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CALIFOR-NIA
SAN DIE«0

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History of Philosophy

ALFRED WEBER

PROFESSOR IN THE L'NIVEKSITY OF STRASBUKQ

^utf)orijeti ^Translation

FRANK THILLY, A.M., Ph.D.

PBOFE8SOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI

FROM THE FIFTH FRENCH EDITION

V^^gvy

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNKR'S SONS

1901

[All riyhts retei-ved]

100

^3 6

LI B lyAR Y

S C R I P P S ly'^S t\ T U T I O N
OF OC2ANOGRA,PHY
UNlVER^Si;»V OF CALIFORNIA
ft.LA. CALIFOJ^IA

Copyricjhf, 1,996,
By Chaklks Scribnkk's Sons.

John Wilson and Son. Cambkidoe, 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
Strasburo-. The author combines in his person the best
elements of French and German scholarship. His knowl-
edge of the subject is thorough 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 the 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. Pliih)sophy often
follows false paths and loses itself in l»Iind alle3^s. Yet
this does not mean that it is a wild-goose chase.

iv PREFACE

We have long wanted a text-book of tlie liistoiy of phi-
losopliy that covers the whole field, and presents the subject
in a manner suited to the needs of the beginner. Zeller's
admirable compendium of Greek philosophy and Falcken-
berg's History of Modem Philosophy deal with special
periods. Windelband's voluminous History of Philosophy^
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
wliich 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, wliich 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 simple English, and to increase the usefulness of the
book wherever it seemed possible and proper to do so, al-
ways keeping in mind the demands of the readers for whom
the work is intended. All material inserted by me is

PREFACE V

placed in square brackets. I have increased the bibliog-
raphy (1) by adding the titles of standard American, Eng-
lish, German, Frencli, 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 tliis country and abroad ; (4) by
placing at the end of the volume a list of the best modern
works on logic, epistemology, psychology, anthropology,
ethics, aesthetics, the philosophy of history, the philosophy
of religion, jurisprudence, politics, etc. I have also pre-
pared an index.

FRANK THILLT,

University of Missouri,
May, 1896.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

Paob

§ 1. Philosophy, Metaphysics, and Science 1

§ 2. Division • ^

§ 3. Sources

I. GREEK PHILOSOPHY

THE AGE OF METAPHYSICS PROPER, OR PHILOSOPHY
OF NATURE

(b. c. COO-400)

§ 4. The Origin of Greek Philosophy 17

§ 5. The School of Miletus. Thales, Anaximander,

axaximenes 21

§ 6. The Problem of Becoming 24

A. The Negation of Becoming

§ 7. Eleatic Philosophy. Xexophanes, Parmenides,

Melissus, Zexo, Gokgias 24

B. The Apotheosis of Becoming

§ 8. ITeraclitu8 33

Viii CONTENTS

C. The Explanation of Becoming

Page

§ 9. The Pythagorean Speculation ^7

§ 10. Empedocles 44

§ 11. Anaxagoras */ 48

§ 12. Diogenes of Apollonia, Archelaus, Leucippus, De-

mocritus 53

THE AGE OF CRITICISM, OR PHILOSOPHY OF MIND

§ 13. Protagoras o9

§ 14. Socrates ... 63

§ 15. Aristippus and Hedonism. — Antisthenes and Cyni-
cism. — Euclides and the School of Megara . 71

A. The Negation of Matter. — The Apotheosis of Thought

§ 16. Plato 75

(1) The Idea 81

(2) Nature 91

(3) The Highest Good 98

§ 17. Aristotle 1*^4

(1) First Philosophy 108

(2) Second Philosophy, or the Philosophy of

Nature 118

B. The Apotheosis of Matter. — The Negation of the
Thought- Substance

§ 18. Epicurus 134

C. The Apotheosis of Will

§ 19. Stoicism 140

§20. The Sceptical Reaction. — Pyrrhonism .... 148

§ 21. Academic Scepticism 150

CONTENTS IX

Page

§ 22. Sensationalistic Scepticism 152

§ 23. The Scientific Movement 159

§ 24. Eclecticism 162

§ 25. Plotinus and Xeo-Platoxism 167

§ 26. The Last Neo-Platonic Polvtheists. — Porphyry,

Jaaiblichus, Proclus 179

II. PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

THE REIGN OF PLATONIC-CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY

§ 27. Christian Platonism 18y

§ 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 Xominalism 219

§ 34. Abelard 222

§ 35. Hugo of St. Victor 227

§ 36. The Progress of Free Thought 230

THE REIGN OF PERIPATETIC SCHOLASTICISM

A. Semi-Reallsttc Penpateticism

§ 37. Growing Influence of the Philosophy of Aristotle 235

§ 38. The Tekipatetics of the Thiktkenth Century . 239

§ .39. St. Thomas of \iiv\s 241

S 40. Duns SctjTus 246

X. CONTENTS

B. Nominalistic Peripateticism

Txas

§ 41. The Reappearaxce of Nominalism. — Dukand, 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 261

§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 Bohme 277

§ 48. The Scientific Movement 281

III. MODERN PHILOSOPHY

THE AGE OF INDEPENDENT METAPHYSICS

(From Bruno to Locke and Kant)

§ 49. Giordano Bruno 286

§ 50. ToMMASO Campanella 291

§ 51. Francis Bacon 295

§ 52. Thomas Hobbes ,300

§ 53. Descartes 305

§ 54. The Cartesian School 317

§ 55. Spinoza 323

I. Definitions 325

II. Deductions 326

(1) Theory of Substance 326

(2) Theory of Attributes 329

(3) Theory of Modes 334

S 56. Leibniz 343

CONTEXTS XI

THE AGE OF CRITICISM

Page

§ 57. John- Locke • 370

§ 58. Berkeley 391

§ 59. CONDILLAC 399

§ 60. The Progress of Materialism 404

§ 61. David Hume 417

§ 62. Immaxuel 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. SCIIELLING 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 INIonism 560

§ 70. Positivism and Xeo-Criticism 573

§ 71. Conclusion 587

Bibliography 605

LvDEx 613

HISTORY (3F 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 summaiy 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 tlie 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 phenomenon^ by the cause of the
causes, or the fii-st 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 ? ^

' As a searcli for the first cause, pliilosophy is defined, more par-
ticularly, as melaphysics, ontology, or apeculcitive philosophy. The phil-
osophy which abandons this search, and contents itself with being
scientific synthesis, is called po.tilive philosophy or positivivn. Posi-
tivism may simply be groiinderl 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 dofjmatism, that is,
the naive or deliberate belief iu the ability of the liiinian mind to

2 INTRODUCTION

But though philosophy has 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 phil-
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. Pui'e, 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
iipon 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 § 33.) When the action of the first cause is
considered unconscious and involuntary, as distinguished from teleo-
logical (or making for an end), realism becomes materialism and mech-
anism. Idealism in tm-n becomes spiritualism when it personifies the
first cause, and regards it, not merely as an idea that realizes itself,
but also as a heing 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. Pantheism, naturalism, or monism identifies the idea of cause
with the concept of substance, and considers the first cause as the
innermost substance 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 (natm'alism) . 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 dynamism, according as these imities are regarded as infinitely small
extensions (atoms), or as absolutely unextended centres of force (dyna-
mides or monads).

PHILOSOPHY, METAPHYSICS, AND SCIENCE 3

it were, of pliilosopliy ; it is, to use an Aristotelian pkrase,
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 tilings — rerum 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 realit}^ either by means of the imagination, or by that
wonderful instinct of childhood and of genius which divinea
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 Ijeen 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 pliilos()])hy of the School ; it is never found among
the independent philosophers, l)e they Christians, Jews, or
Arabians. Tliere may be as much opposition between sci-.
ence and a certain pliilosopliy in the nineteenth century as
there was in the times of Roger Bacon and Lord Verulam.

4 INTRODUCTION

True science and true philosopliy have always been in perfect
accord, and though there may be a sembhmce of rivalry,
their relations are to-day as harmonious as tliey can be.^

§ 2. Division

To the Ionian Greeks belongs the honor of having crea-
ted 2 European pliilosophy ; to the Neo-Latins and the Ger-
mans, that of having given to it its modern development.

Hence there are, in the history to be outlined by us, two
great and wholly distinct epochs, which are connected by
the Middle Ages (period of transition).

1 [On the nature and import of pliilosophy, and its relation to
other sciences, consult Ladd, Introduction to Philosojihy, New York,
1891 ; Volkelt, Vortriige zur Einfiihrung in die Philosophie der Gegen-
wart, Munich, 1892; Paulsen, Einleitung in die Philosophie, 3d ed.,
Berlin, 1895 ; English translation by Frank Thilly, 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 lonians ; 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 a long line of intellectual
development. The influence of Egj^tian and Chaldean science, which
is, moreover, attested by Herodotus, may be compared to that exer-
cised by the Arabian schools upon the development of Clu-istian
thought in the Middle Ages. It has been exaggerated by Roth {Ge-
schichte unserer abendldndischen Philosophie, vol. I., 1846, 1862 ; vol. II.,
1858) and unjustly denied by Zeller (Die Philosophie der Griechen, 5th
ed. 1892, vol. I.; English translation by Sarah AUeyne). Concerning
the relation of Pythagoreanism 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 re^^roduction.

1. The problem which dominates the former is the
problem of the origin of things : the problem of lecoming.
Among the lonians, tliis pliilosophy assumes the form of
materialistic pantheism; among the Italian philosophers,
who are influenced by the Doric spirit, it is essentially
spiritualistic pantheism. The systems produced by these
two schools contain in germ all the doctrines of the future,
especially the monistic and atomistic hj^^otheses, the two
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
irdvT(ov fxerpov avdpco7ro<; 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
philosophical 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. Altliougli
the logic of liist^jry is less transparent during the middle
ages tlian before and after this period of transition, wo

6 INTRODUCTION

notice two epoclis that run parallel with those of Attic
philosoph}- : one, Platonic, realistic, turned towards the
past (from St. Augustine to St. Anselm), the other, Peri-
patetic, nominalistic, big with the future.

III. Modern philosophy dates from the scientific and
literary revival in the fifteenth 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 analysis (essays
concerning the human understanding : Locke, Hume, Kant,
and liis successors).

§ 3. Sources

The principal sources for the history of jDliilosophy are :

For pre-Socratic speculation : Plato and Aristotle. ^

For Socrates: Xenophon^ and Plato, particularly the

Apologj/, the CrtYo, and the Fhcedo.

For Plato : the Republic^ the Timceus^ the Syviposium, the

Fhcedrtcs, the Thecetetiis, the Gorgias, the Protagoras.^
For Aristotle : the Meta])hysics, the Logic, the Ethics, the

Physics, the Psychology, the Politics ; the commentators of

Aristotle, especially Simplicius.*

* Especially the first book of the Metaphysics (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, Fragmenta phil. grcec. ante Socratem, 3 vols., Paris, 1860
[also by Ritter and Preller (mentioned on page 8). English trans-
lations in Burnet's Early Oreek Philosophy (page 8), and of Heraclitus,
in Patrick's Heraclitus on Nature. For translations of classical writers,
consult Bohn's Classical Library. — Tr.].

2 Memorabilia Socratis recens. J. G. Schneider, Oxf., 1813.
« [See § 16, note 2. — Tr.]

* Comment, in Arist. physicorum libros, ed. by Hermann Diels, Berlin,
1882 ; Comment, in libros de anima, 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 Alexancb.ia,7
Origeu,^ Hippolytus,^ Eusebius,!^ Plotiniis," Porphyry,ii

1 Lucretii Cari de rerum natura libb. C. Lachmaun rec. et illustr.,
Berlin, 1850 ff. [edited also by Bernays, Munro, and others].

2 The De divinatione et defato, the De natura deorum, the De offi-
ciis, the Dejinihus, the Tusculance disputationes, and the Academica;
Opera omnia, ed. I-^e Clerc, Bouillet, Lemau-e, 17 vols., Paris, 1827-32 ;
Opera philosophica, ed. Goerenz, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1809-1813 ; Ciceronis
historia pldlosophics antiquce, ex omnibus illius scriptis collegit F.
Gedike, Berlin, 1782, 1801, 1814.

3 Opera qu£e extant c. not. et comment, varior., 3 vols., Amsterdam,
1672.

* De physicis philosophorum decretis libb., ed. Beck, Leipsic, 1777;
Scripta mornlia, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1820 ; Opera omnia graece et latine ed.
Reiske, 12 vols., Leipsic, 1774-82.

s Sexti Empirici opera (Uvpfxoveicop vTrorvnuaeoiv libb. IIL ; Ad ver-
sus mathematicos libb. XL) graic. et lat. ed. Fabricius, Leipsic, 1718
and 1842 ; ed. Emm. Bekker, Berlin, 1842.

8 Diogenis Laertii de vitis, dogmatibus et apopTithegmatibus darorum.
philosophorum libb. X. grsece 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 oiir era.

' dementis Alexandrini opera, Leipsic, 1830-34 (Adyo? TrporpfnTiKos
TT/joy 'EXXj^ms- ; IlatSaycoyos ; Srpco/xaTf Is) .

8 De principds gr. ed. c. interpret, lat. Rufini, et annot. instruxit ed.
R. Redepeuuing, Leipsic, 183G ; Contra Celsum libb. ed. Spencer, Cam-
bridge, 1671 ; Origenis opera omnia quje 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. Ilippolyti refutalionis omnium hceresium libror. X. quae super-
Bunt graice et latine ed. Duncker et Schneidewin, Gbtt. 1856-59.
The firbt book, known by the title ({)iXo(To(f)oCixfva, was for a long
time attributed to Origen ; l)Ooka TV.-X., whioli were discovered in
Greece in 1842, were first pu]>]i9hed by Emm. Miller, Oxford, 1851,
under the title Origenis philosophumena, etc.

1* Eu.seliii Paniph. Pncparatio evangelica, ed. Ileiiiichen, Leipsic,
1812.

u See § 25.

8 INTRODUCTION

Proclus,! Eunapms,^ Stobseus,^ Photius,* Suidas,^ and mod-
ern historical Works.^

1 See § 25.

2 Euiiapii Sard. VitCB philosophorum et sophistarum, ed. Boissonade,
Paris, 18i9.

8 Stobfei Eclogarwn physicarum et ethicarwn libb. graece et latine ed.
Heeren, 2 vols., Gdtt. 1791, 1801 (out of print) ; id. ed. Meineke,
2 vols., Leipsic, 1860, 1864; Stobsei Florilegium, ed. Th. Gaisford,
4 vols., Oxford, 1822 ; Leipsic, 1823 ; Meineke, 4 vols., Leipsic, 1855-57.

* MyriobihUon, ed. Hdschel, Augsburg, 1801. The patriarch Pho-
tius flourished in the 9th century.

^ Lexicon of Suidas, ed. Gaisford, London, 1834 ; Bernhardi, 2 vols.,
Halle, 1834. Suidas flourished about 1000.

6 Especially : [jNIuUach, Fragmenia jihilosophorum Grcecorum, 3 vols.,
1860-1881; Diels, Doxographi Grceci, Berlin, 1879] ; Ritter and PreUer,
Historia philosophice Graeco-Romance ex fontium locis contexta [7th ed.,
Schultess and Wellmann, Gotha, 1888] ; Ritter, Geschichte der Philo-
sophie alter Zeil, Berlin, 1829 ; Brandis, Handhuch der Geschichte der
griechisch-rbmischen Philosophie, 3 vols., Berlin, 1835-1860 ; same author,
Geschichte der Entwickelungen der gr. Philosophie, etc., 2 vols., 1862-64 ;
Roth, Geschichte unserer abend land ischen Philosophie, 2 vols., Mannheim-
1848-58 ; Laforet, Histoire de la philosophie 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. AUeyne 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. AUeyne and Evelyn Abbot, Xew York, 1890. — Tr.].
Tlie following may also be consulted with profit : Grote, Histoi-ij oj
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. Tiibingen, 1886 ; Ferrier, Lectures on Greek Philoso-
phy, 2 vols., Edinburgh and London, 1866 ; London, 1888 ; Teichmiiller,
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 ; INIayor, A Sketch
oJ Ancient Philosophy from Tholes to Cicero, Cambridge, 1881 If. ; Benn,
The Greek Philosophers, 2 vols., London, 1883 ; Windelband, Geschichte
der griechischen Philosophie, 2d ed., Munich, 1894 ; Marshall, A Short

SOURCES 9

For the Patristic period : the polemical writiugH of the
Fathers, 1 especially the X0709 TrpoTpeirrLKo^ 7rpo<i "EXXt;-
va<i, the Pedagogue, and the arpoiixara of St. Clement of
Alexandria, the Principles and the Anti-Celsus of Origen,
the Apologcticus of Tertullian, the Tnstitutiones divincc of
Lactantius, the City of God and the Confessions of ^t.
Augustine.

For the Scholastic period : the De divisione naturce of
Scotus Erigena, the Monologium, the Proslogium, and the
Cur Deus homo of St. Anselmus, the Theology, the Pthics,
and the Dialectics of Abelard, the Sentences of Peter the Lom-
bard, the Commentary of Averroes, the Sum of St. Thomas,
the Qiuvstiones of Duns Scotus and Occam, the Dims onajus
of Roger Bacon, the writings of Raymundus Lullus, the
historical works of Ritter, Cousin, and Haur(^au.2

Hislori/ of Greek Philosophy, London, 1891 ; Chaignet, Histoire de la
psijchologie 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 ; Kdstlin, Die Ethik des klassischen Alter-
//jwms, Leipsic, 1887; Luthardt, Die antike Ethik, 1887; W'dlter, Die
Geschichte der Aesthetik im AUerthum, Leipsic, 1893; Rohde, Psyche,
SeelenkuU und Unsterhlichkeitsglauhe der Griechen, 2 vols., Freiburg,
1890-9-1; Bergk, Griechische Litteratiiryeschichte, 2 vols., Berlin, 1872,
1883; K. O. Miiller, Die Geschichte der gi-iechischen Litteratur, 2 vols.,
Stuttgart, 1882-84 ; Mahafify, History of Classical Greek Literature,
3 vols., 2d ed. London, 1892 ; Teuffel, Geschichte der romischen Littera-
tur, 5th ed., Leipsic, 1890; Bender, Grwuh-iss der romischen Litteratur-
geschichle, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1889 (Engl, transl. from first ed. by Crowell
& Richardson, Boston, 1884) ; Preller, Griechische Mythologie, 2 vols.,
Berlin, 187.5; Lehrs, Pojmldre Aufsdtze aus deni AUerthum, 2d ed.,
Leipsic, 1875; Laurie, Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education,
Londoji, 1895 (first published as a series of articles in the " School
Review," May, 1893-April, 1895). For further references, see L'eber-
weg-IIeinze, § 7, pp. 27-33. Consult also the general histories of
philosopliy iiHMitionod on pages 13 IT. — Tit.].

1 Colleclfd by J. P. Mignc, Paris, 1810 ff.

2 [For primitive Christianity, i)atristic and scholastic philosophy
consult, besides the general histories of philosophy mentioned on pages

10 INTKODUCTION

For the philosophy of the Renaissance : the De docta tgno'
rantia of Nicholas of Cusa, the De suUilitate and the De
rerum varietate of Cardanus, the De immortalitate animce
of Pomponatius, the Animadversiones in dialecticam Ari~
stotelis of Ramus, the Essais of Montaigne, the TriumpJius
philosophice, the De rerum ceternitate^ and the De mundo of
Taurellus, the Aurora of J. Boehme.^

13 if. : Drummond, Philo Judceus, or the Jewish-Alexandrian Philosophy
in its Development and Completion, 2 vols., London, 1888 ; Deutinger,
Geist der christlicheii Ueherlieferung, Regensbm-g, 1850-51 ; Ritsclil,
Die Entstehung der altkatholischen Kirche, 2d ed., Bonn, 1857 ; de Pres-
sense, Histoire des trois premiers siecles de Ve'glise, Paris, 1858 ft". ;
Baur, Das Christenthum der drei ersten Jahrhunderte, 2d ed., Tubingen,
1860 ; J. Alzog, Grundriss der Patrologie, 3d ed., Freiburg, 1876 ;
Pfleiderer, Das Urchristenthum, Berlin, 1887; Stockl, Geschichte der
Philosophie der patrisllschen Zeit, Wiirzburg, 1859 ; Huber, Die Philoso-
phie der Kirchenrdter, ^lunicli, 1859; Xeander, Christliche Dogmenge-
schichte, ed. by J. Jacobi, Berlin, 1857 ; Harnack, Lehrbuch der
Dogmengeschichte, 3 vols., 2d ed., Freiburg, 1888-90 ; Donaldson, A
Critical History of Christian Literature and Doctrine, 3 vols., London,
1885-66 ; same author, The Apostolic Fathers, London, 1874 ; Ritter,
Die christliche Philosophic, 2 vols., Gottingen, 1858-59 ; Rousselot,
Etudes sur la philosophic dans le moyen-dge, Paris, 1840-42; Ilaureau,
De la philosophie seolastiqufi, 2 vols., Paris, 1850; same author, Histoire
de la philosophie scolastique, 2d series, Paris, 1872-80 : Stockl, Geschichte
der Philosophie des Mittelalters, 3 vols., Mayence, 1864-66; Baeumker,
Beitrdge zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, Miinster, 1891
ft.; Renter, Die Geschichte der religiosen AufkUirung im Mittelalter,

2 vols., Berlin, 1875-77; W. Kaulich, Geschichte der scholastischen Phil-
osophic, Prague, 1863; Werner, Die Scholastik des spiiteren Mittelalters,

3 vols., Vienna, 1881 if. ; Gass, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik, Berlin,
1881 ; Ziegler, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik, Strasbiu'g, 1886 ; 2d
ed., 1892; Luthardt, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik, 1888; Lecky,
A History of European Morals from Augustus to Cliarlemagne, 2 xoh.,
London, 1869; 3d ed., 1877 ; Denifle, Die Uniccrsitliten 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. — Tr.]

* [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 infinito universo and De
mo/iade, Campanella's Atheismus triumphatus, Pliilosophia
sensibus demonstrata^ and De geiitilismo^ Francis Bacon's No-
vum organum, Hobbes's De cive and De corpore^ Descartes's
Discourse on Method and Princij^les., Malebranche's Recherche
de la verite, Spinoza's Dtltics, Locke's -Essay concerning Hu-
man Understanding, Leibniz's New Essays and Monadology,
Berkeley's Principles of Human Knowledge, Condillac'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 Philosophical Sciences, tlie
Metaphysics and the Psychology of Herbart, Schopenhauer'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 cliief works of modern scientific literature of general
and therefore philosophical interest, like the Celestial
Bevolutions 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 Weltanschauunf/ der Refonnntlonszcit, 1817. 2(1 ed., Leipsic,
1887; Voigt, Die Wictlerhdehung des clnxsischen Altcrthums, 1859; 3d
ed., edited l)y Lehnerdt, 2 vols., Berlin, 189:3; Biirckhardt, Die Cultur
der Renaissance, 2 vols, 1860, 4th ed. l>y L. Geiger, Leipsic, 1886
(Engl, transl. l)y S. G. C. Middleman, London, 1878 and 1890);
Geiger, Rennv<snnce und Ilumnnismus in Italien und Deulschlnnd, Berlin,
1882; .Symonds, The Renaissance in Itahj, 7 vols., London, 1875-
1886 ; Pesfhel, Geschichte des Zeilalters der Entdeckungen, 2d ed.,
Leipsic, 1879. For further references, Ueberweg-Heinze, vol. III.,
§§ 2-0. - Tu.]

12 INTRODUCTION

finally, the historical works of Ritter,i Erdmann,^ Barchou
de Penhoen,3 Michelet* (of Berlin), Willm,^ Clialyb£eus,«
Bartholmess,^ Kuno Fischer,^ Zeller,^ Windelband,io etc.^^

^ GescMchte der neueren Philosophie (vols. IX.-XII. of his Ge-
schichte der Philosophie^, 1850-53.

2 Versuch einer toissenschaftlichen Darslellung der neueren Philosophie,
6 vols., Riga and Leipsic, 1834-1853.

^ Histoire de la philosophie allemande depuis Leibniz jusqu^ a nos jours
Paris, 183G.

* Geschichte der letzten Systeme der Philosophie in Deutschland von
Kant bis Hegel, 2 vols., Berlin 1837-38.

* Histoire de la philosophie allemande \puis Kant jusqu'a Hegel, 4
vols., Paris, 1846-49.

* Historische Entwickelung der spekulaliven Philosophie in Deutschland
von Kant bis Hegel, Dresden, 1837, 5tli ed., 1860 ; Engl, translation,
1854.

' Histoire des doctrines religieuses de la philosophie moderne, 2 vols.,
Paris, 1855 ; Histoire philosophique de PAcade'miede 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. IL, 1889; vols. III. and IV., 1882; 2d ed., vol. V., 1885, vol.
VI. 1895 ; vol. VIT. (Hegel) not yet published ; vol. VIII. (Schopen-
hauer), 1898. 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 seim
Nachfolger, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1875, Engl, translation by Oxenford, Lon-
don, 1857. — 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 auf
unsre Zeit,2 vols., Leipsic, 1843; Damiron, Essai sur P histoire de la
philosophie au 17""^ siecle, Paris, 1846; Fortlage, Genetische Geschichte
der Philosophic 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 Kritik der Grundbegriffe der Gegenwart, Leipsic, 1878 ; 2d ed,,

SOURCES 13

For European philosophy in general : (Stanley ^),
Brucker,^ Tiedemann,^ Buhle,* Deg^rando,^ Tennemann,^

1893 (Engl, transl.by Stuart Phelps, 1880) ; Seth, From Kant to Hegel,
London, 1882 ; Eucken, Beitriige zur Geschichte der neueren Philosophie,
1886 ; Monrad, Denkrichtungen der neueren Zeit, Bonn, 1879 ; HofEding,
Einleitung in die englische Philosophie 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; Biu"t, A Histortj oj
Modern Philosophy, 2 vols., Chicago, 1892 ; Falckenberg, Die Geschichte
der neueren Philosophie, 2d ed., 1892 (Engl, transl. by A. C. Ai'mstrong,
Jr., New York, 1893); Iloffding, Den Nyere Filosojie Hiatorie, Kopenhar
gen, vol. I., 1891 ; 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 Naturphilosopihie seit Bacon, 2 vols.,
Leipsic, 1841-44 ; J. Baumann, Die Lehren von Rauin, 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-
losophie seit Kant, 2 pts., Leipsic, 1889-90 ; Lasswitz, Geschichte der
Atomistik vom Mittelalter his Newton, 2 vols., Ilambiu'g and Leipsic,
1890; Grimm, Zur Geschichte des Erkenntnissproblems von Bacon bis
Hume, 1890 ; Vorlander, Ge.^chichte der philosophischen Moral, Rechts-,

^ [History of Philosophy, London, 105.5 ; in Latin, 2 vols., Leipsic,
1712. Also, Pierre Bayle, Dictionnaire historiqtie et critique, 2 folio
vols., 1695-97 ; 4th ed., revised and enlai-ged by Des Maizeaux, 4 folio
vols., Amsterdam and Leyden, 1740 ; Boureau-Deslandes, Histoire
critique de la philosophie, 3 vols., Paris, 1730-36 if. — Tk.]

2 Historia critica philosophire inde a mimdi incunahilis, 6 vols., Leip-
sic, 1742-07.

8 Geist der spekuluticen Philosojjhie, 6 vols., Marburg, 1791-97.

• Lehrbuch der Geschichte der Philosophie, S vols., Gottingen, 1796-
1804.

• Histoire comparde des systhnes de la philosophie, 3 vols., Paris,1803;
2ded., 4 vols., 1822-23.

• Geschichte der PhUosophie, 11 vols., L(!ipsic, 1798-1819'; Grundriss
der Geschichte der Philosophie, Leipsic, 1812 ; [l-ngl- transl. 1833 and
1.852 (liolm'a Library)].

14 INTRODUCTION

Ritter,^ Hegel,^ Schwegler,^ Renouvier,^ Nourrisson,'
Cousin,* Janet," Prantl,^ Lange,^ Erdmann,^*^ Ueberweg,"

und Staatslehre der Engliinder und Franzosen, Marburg, 1855 ; Mack-
intosh, On the Progress of Ethical Philosophy during the \lth and l^th
Centuries, Edinlmrgli, 1872; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik in der neueren
Philosophie, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1882-89; Bluntschli, Geschichte des all'
gemeinen Staatsrechts und der Politik seit dem 16. Jahrhundert, Municli,
1864 ; O. Pfleiderer, Religionsphilusophic auf geschichtlicher Grundlage,
2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1S93 (vol. I. : Geschichte der Religionsphilosophie
von Spinoza bis zur Gegenivart) ; Engl, transl. by A. Stewai't and A.
Menzies, London, 1886-1888 ; Punjer, Geschichte der christlichen Re-

1 Geschichte der Philosophie, 12 vols., Hamburg, 1829-53.

* Vorlesungen iiber 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.]

' Geschichte der Philosophie iin Umriss, Stuttgart, 1848 ; 15th ed.
1891 ; [Engl, translations by Seelye, Xew York, 1856 if., and J. XL
Stirling, 7th ed., Edinburgh, 1879].

^ Manuel de philosophie ancienne, 2 vols., Paris, 1844 ; Manuel de
philosophie moderne, Paris, 1842.

5 Tableau des progres de la pense'e humaine depuis Thales j'usqua
Leibniz, Paris, 18.58, 1860.

® Cours dliistoire de la philosophie, Paris, 1829 [Engl, transl. by

0. W. Wight, 2 vols., New York, 1889. — Tr.] ; Histoire gene'rale de
la philosophie depuis les temps les plus anciens jusqxi' 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 Material is7nus, 3d ed., Iserlohn, 1876-77; [Engl,
transl. m 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.].

" Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 3 vols., 7th ed., published
and enlarged by Heinze, Berlin, 1888 ; [8th ed. vol. L, 1894, voL IIL,

1, 1896; Engl, transl. by G. S. Morris, New York, 1872-74, — Tr.J.

SOtRCES 15

Scholten,! Dulu-ing,2 Lewes,^ Lefevi-e,* Alaux,^ Franck,«
FoiiiU^e,7 Fabre,^ Kirchner.^

ligiompldlosopUe seit der Reformation, 2 vols., Braunschweig, 1880-83;
Engl, transl. by W. Hastie, vol. I., Edinburgh and London, 1887;
Dessoir, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Psychologie, vol. I., 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, 1885, 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 desgelehrten 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. III., § 1 ff. ; and Windelband's History of
Philosophy. — Tr.]

1 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 Philosophie, 4th ed., Leipsic, 1894.

8 A Biographical History of Philosophy from its Origin in Greece down
to the Present Day, 3d ed., London, 1863.

* La philosophie, Paris, 1879.

' Histoire de la philosophie, Paris, 1882.

8 Dictionnaire des sciences philosopldques, 2d ed., Paris, 1875.
■^ Histoire de la philosophie, Paris, 1875,4th ed., 1883; Extraits des
grands philosophes, Paris, 1877.

8 Histoire de la philosophie, Paris, 1877.

• Katechismus der Geschichte der Philosophie, Leipsic, 1878 ; 2d ed.,
1884. [To these may be added : Trendelenburg, Historische Beilrdge zur
Philosophie, -ivoh., Berlin, 1816-67; Zeller, Vortrage und Ahhandlungcn,
3 series, 1865-84; Ilartenstein, Historisch-philosophische Ahhandlungen,
Leipsic, 1870; Sigwart, Kleine Schriflen, 2 vols., 1881 ; 2d ed., 1889;
Eucken, Lebensanschnuungen der grossen Denier, Leipsic, 1890; Bau-
mann, Geschichte der Philosophie, 1890; "NVindelband, Geschichte der
Philosophie, Freiburg', 1892 (Engl, transl. by ,7, IL Tufts, London and
New York, 1893) ; Bcrginann, Geschichte der Philosophie, 2 vols., Berlin,
1892-9t; Deussen, Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophic, in six parts,
vol. L, part 1, Leipsic, 1891; Willmann, Geschichte des Idealhmus,

16 INTRODUCTION

3 vols., vol. I., Braunschweig, 1894. 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., PsychoJogie, vol. XL, Logik,
Berlin, 1877, 1881 ; Siebeck, Geschichte der Psijchologie, Gotha, 1380-
84; ; Sidgwick, History of Ethics, London and New York, 3d ed., 1892 ;
Paidsen, System der Ethik, 2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1894 (vol. I., 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 ^Esthetics, London and New York, 1892 ; Flint, History of the
Philosophy of History, New York, 1894. For further references, see
Ueberweg-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 Review, vol.
4, 1895; Mind, New Series, vol.4; The Monist, vol. 5; The Ainer-
icon Journal of Psychology, vol. 6 ; The Psychological Review, vol.
2 ; International Journal of Ethics, vol. 5 ; Zeitschrift fur Philosophie
und philosophische Kritik, New Series, vol. 106 ; Vierteljahresschrift
fiir wissenschaftliche Philosophie, vol. 18 ; Philosophisches Jahrhuch,
vol. 8 ; Zeitschrift fur Philosopjhie und Pedagogik, vol. 2 ; Jahrhuch
fur Philosophie und spekidative Theologie, vol. 9 ; Zeitschrift fiir exacte
Philosophie, vol. 21 ; Archiv fir Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. 8 ; Archiv
fur systematische Philosophie (Npw Series of the Philosophische Monats-
hefte), vol. 1; Philosophischt: Studien, vol. 11; Zeitschrift fir Psy-
chologic und Physiologic der Sinnesorgane, vol. 8 ; Zeitschrift fiir Volker-
psychologie und Sprachwissenschaft, vol. 25 ; Revue philosnphique, vol 20 ;
Revue de metaphysiqne et de morcde, vol. 3 ; L'annee philosophique, vol. 5,
1894 ; Vannee psychologique, vol. 1 ; Rivista Italiana di Filosofia, vol. 9.
The following American and English philosophical series are of value
to the student of philosophy: Griggs's Philosophical C/asszcs -(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 Library of Philosophy, J. H.
Muirhead, editor, London and New York ; The English and Foreign
Philosophical Library, London ; Ethical Library, J. H. Muirhead, editor,
London and New York ; Bohn Library, London. The most extensive
Grerman collection of philosophical works is the Philosophische Bibli-
othek, J. H. von Kirchmann, editor, Heidelberg. Felix Alcan, Paris,
publishes the Bibliotheque de Philosophie. — Tit.]

GREEK PHILOSOPHY

FIRST PERIOD

iLGE OF IklETAPHYSICS PROPER OR PHILOSOPHY
OF NATURE

(600-400)

§ 4. Origin of Greek Philosophy ^

lyLE ptiilosophy of the Hellenes emancipates itself from
their religion in the form of theology and gnomic mo-
rality.2 Aryan naturalism, modified by the national genius

^ [Cf. chapters on mythology, etc., in Grote's History of Greece
(cited page 8) ; Preller's Mythologie (cited page 9) ; Lehrs, Populdre
Aufsatze (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, being a late product of human develoj>
ment, plays but a subordinate and intermittent part in history.
Religion, on the other hand, guides its destinies. It is the primordial
and permanent expression of what lies at tlie very root of our nature,
that is, the will, and consists essentially in the rvill to be, 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-
fver is able to preserve it, is precisely what constitutes the essence of
(iiaififia, the characteristic trait of the religious phenomenon. This
is 80 true that we find the ])elief \\\ immortality and the worship of
tlie dead ax beings that continue to live in spite of all, intimately con-
nected with all religions. Such a belief simply represents the desire
of tlio will-to-live to continue even after death and beyond the grave.

609-^

18 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

and the physical conditions under which it developed,
forms its starting-point. This 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 power, 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 us, and which is cer-
tainly far from being explicit on the subject 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 practice, or worship, the orig-
inal form of morality, are constitutive, but derived and secondary
elements, the products of an essentially emotional, instinctive, and
{esthetical 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 the origin and evolution of religion, see Paulsen's Introduction to
Philosophy, pp. 266 ff.]

ORIGIN OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY 19

defeats, and triumphs. Man, 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 which the moral conscience is devel-
oped and re lined, 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 tlie just and wise gods, the creations of its
riper manhood (Pindar, ^Eschylus, 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 witli 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 tlie question,
Who is the oldest of tlie gods, and in what order do they
spring from their common Father ? and receives an answer
in the theogonies of Hesiod, Pherecydes of Syros,^ and
Orpheus.^ Here, for the first time, the philosophical spirit

' Cf. ZclliT, vol. I., Introduction.

^ F^herecydis frafjmpnta coll. et illustr. Fr. G. Sturz, 2il ed., Leipsic,
1834.

' See concerning Orjilu'us llif scholarly work of Lobcck, Aglaopha'
mux sive de theologice mysticat Grcccorum causis, 2 vols., 1829.

20 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

finds satisfaction; tliese fantastic conceptions are anticipa-
tions of the rational explanation of nature.

To conscience and reason a third factor, experience, is
added. Tliis, too, assists in the transformation of religious
ideas by demonstrating, 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 {ava<^Kif]^ aSpdareia,
fiolpa^ rvxv)-> of ^^ immutable Justice (Sikj], elixap/xevr]), of
a divine Law (delo^ v6/Mo<i), of a supreme Intelligence {d€io<;
X0709, 6eio<; vov^). The pioneers of philosophy, men like
Thales, Xenophanes, and Pythagoras, who were the first
to protest against theological antliropomorphism, were like-
wise mathematicians, naturalists, and astronomers, if we
may so designate men who had an elementary knowledge
of the course of the stars, the properties of numbers, and
the nature of bodies.

Philosophy dates her origin from the day when these
physicians, as Aristotle terms them in distinction from
their predecessors, the theologians, relegated the traditional
gods to the domain of fable, and explained nature by prin-
ciples and causes (apxal koX ahia). Emerging as she did
from the conflict between reason and religious authority,
which sought revenge by systematically accusing her of
atheism and treason, philosophy did not at once cast off
the mythological garb. She loved to express herself in the
rhythmical language of the poets; and even- her concep-
tions retained the marks of the religious faith from which

THE SCHOOL OF MILETUS 21

she sprang. The gods are not abolished ; they are restored
to their true nature, and regarded as elements (aTocxda).
Following the example of theology, pliilosophy begins to
ask herself the question, What is the primitive element,
the one that precedes the others in dignity and in time,
and from which, consequently, the others have been gen-
erated ? The theogonies become cosmogonies, and the only
important question concerning which the first thinkers
differ is the question as to what constitutes the primor-
dial natural force, the principle (apxi])-

§ 5. The School of Miletus. Thales, Anaximander,
Auaximenes ^

1. Thales,^ the head of what may be called the school
of Miletus, and the father of all the Ionian schools, lived
about 600 B. c. According to him, water is the first prin-
ciple, the universal substratum, of which the other bodies
are merely modifications ; water envelops the earth on all
sides ; the earth floats upon this infinite ocean, and con-
stantly derives from it the nourishment it needs.

This doctrine is the old Aryan myth of the heavenly
Okeanos translated into scientific language : the water of
the storm-cloud fructifies the earth and is the father of
all living things.^ It is all we know positively of the
philosophy of Thales. He is, moreover, represented to us
by antiquity as the first geometrician, the first astronomer,
and the first physicist among the Greeks. He is said to

1 [For the pre-Socratics, see the collections of Fragments, Teich-
miiller's Studien and Neue Studien, Byk, Burnet, etc., cited above.
Translations of the Fragments found in Burnet. See also Ritter,
Geschichle der ionischen Philosophir, Berlin, 1821. — Krische, For-
tchuitfjen auf dem Gehiet der alien I'hilo^op/iie, (icittiiigen, 1840. — Tu.]

3 Chief source, Mel., I., 3; [Hitter and Treller, 7th ed., pp. 6-11. —
Tb.].

» Plato, Cratylus, 402 B.

22 GREEK PHn.OSOPHY

have predicted the eclipse of the 28th of May, 585, and to
have been acquainted with the phenomenon of magnetism,
as well "as with the attractive property of polished amber
{rjXeKTpov).

2. According to Anaxiimander,! ^ fellow-countryman
and disciple of Thales, the author of a work O71 Nature, the
first principle is not water, but the infinite atmosphere (to
aTveipov), from which it comes in order to fructify the earth.
This infinite, indistinct matter is the mother of the heavens
and the worlds which they encompass (joiv ovpavwv koI tojv
iv avrol<i Koa/jicov). Everything that exists owes its being
to the first principle, and arises from it by separation ; it is
therefore just that everything render to it, at the hour
appointed by Fate, the life which Fate has given it, in order
that this life may circulate and pass to new beings. The
opposites, warm and cold, dry and moist, which do not
exist in the aireipov, the primitive chaos where everything
is neutralized, are gradually parted off, and form nature,
with its contraries, its opposite qualities, and separate ele-
ments. The first opposition is that between the warm and
dry, on the one hand, and the cold and moist, on the other ;
the former occurring in the earth, the latter in the heavens
which surround it. The earth is a cylindrical body, and
floats freely in the infinite ether, being held in equilibrium
because of its equal distance from all the other heavenly
bodies (§ia t?)^ o/xoiap TrdvTwv aTroaraaiv). There are an
infinite number of worlds (Oeot), which are alternately
termed and destroyed. The fu-st animals were produced

1 Sources: Aristotle, Met., XII., 2; Phjs., III., 4; Simplicius, In
Phys., f. 6, 32 ; Plutarch, in Eusebius, Prcep. evang., I., 8; Hippolytus,
Refut. hceres., I., 6; Cicero, De nat. deor., I., 10; Schleiermacher, Ueber
Anaximandros, Complete Works, 3d series, vol. II., pp. 171-296; Ritter
and Preller, pp. 12-19; [Mullach, Fragmenta, I., p. 240; Burnet, pp.
47 ff. — Tr] ; C. Mallet, Histoire de la philosophie ionienne, Paris, 1842 ;
[Teichmuller, Studien and Neue Studien. — Tr.].

THE SCHOOL OF MILETUS 23

in the water, and from tliem the more advanced species
gradually arose. Man sprang from the fish. Individuals
and species constantly change, but the substance whence
they are derived, the uTreipov, is indestructible {d(f)dapTov,
addvarov, dvQ}\e6pov), because it is uncreated {dyevvi]Tov).
It envelops everything, produces everything, governs ev-
eiything (Trepie'vet diravra Kal irdvra Kv^epva), It is the
supreme divinity {jo delov), possessing a perpetual vitality
of its own.

3. Anaxe^ienes 1 of Miletus, the disciple of Anaximan-
der and third representative of the Ionian philosophy, calls
the generative principle of things air or breath {d^p, nrvevp.a,
-^vx^])' His pliilosophy, which is a more exact formulation
of Anaximander's doctrine, may be summarized in the fol-
lowing words : infinite matter, a perpetual motion of con-
densation and rarefaction that is something like a plastic
principle, necessity directing the motion (St'/c?;, avdy/crj).
Matter, motion, motive force, directing necessity : we find
among the lonians all the elements of the explanations
of nature attempted afterwards. But their systems are
like rudimentary organisms. The perfection of a living
being depends upon the greater or less differentiation of its
organs; the more its constitutive parts differ from each
other and become specialized, the higher it rises in the
scale of beings. Now, the Ionian philosophy is, when com-
pared with that of Aristotle, perfectly uniform. Thales
regards water, Anaximenes air, as substratum, motive force,
and fate, or the law of motion.2 Progress in science, as
well as in nature, is made possible by the division of labor,
by differentiation of the constitutive elements of being, by
the multiplication and opposition of systems.

1 Plutarch, in Eusebius, Prnsp. evaruj., I., 8; Cicero, De nat. dear.,
I., 10 ; Schleicrmacher, Ucber Dioijenes von Apollnnia {he. cit.) ; Ritler
and Preller, pp. 20-23 ; [Burnet, pp. 79 II. — Tk.].

a Aristotle, Met., T., 10, 2.

24 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

§ 6. The Problem of Becoming

1. The first question that arouses controversy is the
problem of becoming. Being persists, beings constantly
change ; they are born and they pass away. How can being
both persist and not persist ? Reflection upon this problem,
the metaphysical problem par excellence^ since it lies at the
root of all the sciences and dominates all questions, gives
rise to three systems, the types of all European philoso-
phies, — the Eleatic system ; the system of Heraclitus ; the
atomistic system, wliich was proclaimed in the idealistic
sense by the Pythagoreans, in the materialistic sense by
Leucippus and Democritus, and with a dualistic turn by
Anaxagoras. The first two are radical; each suppresses
one of the terms of the antinomy ; the third is a doctrine
of conciliation. According to the Eleatic hypothesis, being
is everything, change is but phenomenal ; according to
Heraclitus, change is everything, and being, or permanence,
is but an illusion ; according to the monadists and atomists,
both permanence and change exist : permanence in the he-
ings,^ perpetual change in their relations. The Eleatics
deny becoming ; Heraclitus makes a god of it ; the atomists
explain it.

A. Negation of BECO]\nNG

§ 7. Eleatic Philosophy. Xenophanes, Parmenides,
Melissus, Zeno, Gorgias ^

At the time when Anaximander flourished in Miletus,
another Ionian, Xenophanes of Colophon, immigrated into

1 Considered by the Pythagoreans as ideal unities or numbers ; by
the atomists as real or material unities.

* [Karsten, Philosophorum grcecorum veterum operum reliquice, 2 vols.,
Amsterdam, 1835 f£. ; Bergk, Commentatio de Arist. lihello de Xeno
phane, etc., Marburg, 1843. — Tr.]

ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY 25

Magna Grsecia, travelled through the cities as a philosopher
and rhapsodist, and finally settled in Elea in Lucania,
where he gained adlierents. His theological innovations
were developed and systematized by Parmenides of Elea
and Melissns of Samos, who raised them to the dignity of
a metaphysic. Zeno of Elea, the disciple of Parmenides,
undertook to defend them by means of dialectics, tliereby
becoming the precursor of the Sophists.

1. Xexophanes 1 is a decided opponent of the national
mythology, towards which he assumes a similar attitude
to that of the Hebrew prophets who raised their powerful
voices against polytheism and its empty conceptions. His
written and spoken words proclaim him as the real creator
of philosophical monotheism, which he identifies with pan-
theism. With an eloquence that is full of irony, his satires,
some frao-ments of which are extant, combat the error of
those who infinitely multiply the divine Being, who attrib-
ute to liim a human form (anthropomorphism) and human
passions (anthropopathism). There is one God, he says,
one only God, comparable to the gods of Homer or to mor-
tals neither in form nor in thought. This God is all eye,
all ear, all thought. Being immutable and immovable, he
lias no need of going about, now hither, now thither, in
order to carry out his wishes, but without toil he governs

1 Aristotle (?), De Xenophane, Zenone, el Gorgia ; Clement of Alex.,
2Tpa>fiaTa, V., p. GOl C ; ibid., p. 711 15 ; Bulile, Commentatio de oriu et
profjressu panlheisjni inde a Xenophane, etc., Golt., 1790; V. Cousin,
Xenophane, fondateur de Vecole d'Ele'e (in the Nouveaux frarpnents phi-
losophiquex), Paris, 182S; Kern, Qurestiones Xenophanece, Naumburg,
1846; MuUach, Frarjmenta, I., pp. 101 ff. ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 75-
84; [Burnet, pp. 115 if.]; J. Freiidenthal, Ueber die Theologie des
Xenophanrx, P>roslau, 1880. Freudouthal bases his view partly on
the words iv roU 0(ol(n (Mullacli, p. 101), and makes Xenophanos
a polytlieist. This is a strange misconception of the spirit for the
letter, and would be like reckoning Spinoza among the theists, becausa
he call.s nature God, and God a thinking thing.

26 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

all things by his thought alone. Mortals, of course, accept
the authority of Homer and Hesiod, and think that the gods
are born as they are, and like them have feeling, voice,
and body ; and they ascribe to the gods all things that are
a shame and disgrace among men, — theft, adultery, and
falsehood. They do as the oxen or lions would do if they
could paint: they would certainly represent their gods
in the form of lions or oxen. In place of these imaginary
beings, let us adore the one infinite Being, who bears us in
his bosom, and in whom there is neither generation nor
corruption, neither change nor origin.^

2. Parmenides 2 completes the teachings of his master,
and makes them the starting-point for a strictly monistic

1 MuUach, pp. 101-102 :

Eis 6fos €V T€ 6(01(71 KM dvOpanoicn fxeyidTOS,
0VT€ 8e'/xas 6vr]Toi(HV ofioi'ios ovre v6r]fia.

OvXos opa, ouXos Se wet, ovXos 8f t uKOvei.

*AXX* aTrdvevde novoio vSov (j)p(v\ navra Kpabaivet.

Atfi S' fV TCIVTM T( p.€V(LV KLVOVflfVOV Ov8fV,

ovbe fierepxfo'dal p.iv ennrpeTTfi aWore aWr/.

ciXXa fipoTo\ boKiovai deoiis yevmadat
T^v iT(f>fTepr]v T aiadrjaiv e'x^"' 4'^''^^ '''^ Befiai re.

ndvTa Bfols dvedrjKav Onrfpos ff HcrioSo? rf
ocrtra Trap' dvdpdnroicnv 6vfi8ea Koi "^oyos eariv,
Itai TrXeicr' ecfiSey^avro 6fa>v d6fni(TTia tpya,
KXfTTTfiu, noL^ev€Lv Tf KOI dWrjXovi anareveiv.

AXX' etVot ;(etpdy y* (tx°^ /3ofS rje Xfocrff,
T] ypd\j/ai ;^fipe(Tcrt Koi i'pya TfXf'iu dnep livhpfi,
Xirrroi p.iv 6' Iitttoktu ^oes Se re ^ovaiv o/j-oias

Kai K€ 6(u>v ideas typacpop

* Sextus Empiricus, Adv. malh., VII., Ill ; Simplicius, Inphys., f. 7,
0, 19, 25, 31, 38 ; Proclus, Comment, in Plat. Timceum, p. 105 ; Clem,
of Alex., Strom., V., pp. 552 D, 614 A ; MuUach, Fragm. phil. gr.,
I., pp. 109 ff.; Ritter and PreUer, pp. 85 ff.; [Burnet, pp. 218 ff.].

ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY 27

system. Since there is no change in God, and since God
is everything, that which we call change (aWoiovadaL) is
but an appearance, an illusion (86^a), and there is in
reality neither origin nor decay. The eternal being alone
exists : tliis thesis forms the subject of a philosophical
poem, the fragments of which are the most ancient monu-
ment in our possession of metaphysical speculation proper
among the Greeks. In the ih-st part, dedicated to Trutli,
he demonstrates by means of specious arguments that our
notions of change, plurality, and limitation contradict
reason. In the second part, which deals with 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 begun to
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 l)eing, 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 (a-vvex^)
and indivisible whole. There is no void anywhere. There

28 GKEEK PHELOSOPHY

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, infuiite, 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 (tcovtov 8' eVrl voelv re
Kul ovv€K€v icrrt vojjfxa).^

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 : night or cold ;
and light, fire, or heat. The universe, which to reason is
without beginning or end, has its a]3parent origin, its genesis ;
and this genesis is the successive victory of the principle of

1 Simplicius I?i Phys., 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 {etSi]).
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
7re/3ie%oy), is solid, cold, and dark ; beneath it lies the fiery
sphere of the fixed stars ("OXu^ttTro? eaxaro^). 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 (eana rov
iravTo^), the seat of the Divinity (Aaifxcov), the Queen of
the world (/cu/SepyjyT?/?), Justice (Ai'/c?;), Necessity (AvdyKr]),
the Mother of Love (A(}>poBiTi]).

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 Parmenides the importance which
they have for the louians. 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, witliout, however, being a spir-
itualist in tlie modern sense. Spiritualism distinguishes
between corporeal substance and soul-substance; Eleatic
metaphysics makes no such distinction. Tlic being which
it allinns is neither l)ody nor soul, neither matter nor
spirit; it is being, nulliiug but l)cing; and everything else

1 Cf. tlif! Miija of the Iliiuloos, the luuther 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 suhstance or universal suhstratiwi, we may reckon
Parmenides among the materialists, like his modern imi-
tator Spinoza. But it would be a mistake to call liim 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,
wliich is later than Parmenides. The monism of Par-
menides and Heraclitus is like the block of marble which
may be formed into a basin or a Jupiter, or like the mother-
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 was also a brave general and
a clever politician, opposes the Ionian cosmogonies with
the Eleatic doctrine 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 spfice {coairep icrrl alei^ ovrco koI to fx.€jado<; anreipov
aid xpv €lvaL). 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

1 The author of a book, iripi tov ovtos (in the Ionian dialect), quoted
in different passages by Simplicins, Ln Pkys., f . 22, and paxsim ; [Ritter
and Preller pp. 106-111 ; MuUach, 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. Zeko,^ a pupil and follower of Parmenides, is the
controversialist of the school, the inventor of the process
of demonstration called reductio ad ahsu?rhim, the father of
dialectics and sophistry. The One alone is conceivable;
extension, magnitude, motion, and space, cannot be con-
ceived. If there is such a thing as a (limited) magnitude,
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 tlie 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 liim an insurmountable oljstacle. 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 ; lience it must successively occupy these diiferent
points. Now, to occupy a point of space, at a given mo-
ment, means to be at rest : therefore tlie arrow is at rest
and its movement is but illusory.

» Aristotle, Pk;/s., VI., 2, 9 ; Siinplicius, In IVn/s., f. 30, 1.30, 255;
MuUach, I., pp. 266 IT.; Ritter and Preller, pp. 100 £f.; [Burnet, pp.
828 ff.].

32 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Fiu-thermore, 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 space, which in turn exists in another
space, and so on ek direipov. Motion is, therefore, impos-
sible from every point of view, and we cannot suppose it
to be real, unless we are willing to affirm an absurdity.
Being alone exists, and this being is immutable matter.^

5. GoRGiAS 2 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 rou fir] 6vT0<i rj irepl (f)vae(i)'?, shoAVS, he negates
being itself. Nothing exists, he says ; for if a being existed,
it would have to be eternal, as was proved by Parmenides.
Now, an eternal being is infinite. But an infinite being
cannot exist in space or in time without being limited by
them. Hence it is nowhere, 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 we
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 : Being is nothing, hecoming is everything. The
heing of Parmenides and Zeno, wdiich 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 child exclaimed, in the simplicity of
its heart : " Why, the king is naked ! "

» Aristotle, Met, III., 4, 41.

" Aristotle, De Xenophane, Zenone, et Gorgla ; Sextus Empir., Adv.
math., VII., 65, 77 ; Ritter and Preller, 187 ff.

HERACLITUS 33

B. Apotheosis of Beco^shxg
§ 8. Heraclitus

Heraclitus,^ who, on account of his love of paradox, was
called the Obscure, flourished at Ephesus, near the end of
the sixth centuiy. He has left a deeper impress on Greek
thought than any of the physicists of the fii"st period, and
more than one modern hypothesis is either foreshadowed
or expressly formulated in the valuable fragments of his
book On Nature (^irepl <^vae(o<;).

Like the physicists of Miletus, Heraclitus considers all
bodies as transformations of one and the same element.
But this element is not, as with Anaximenes, the atmos-
pheric air; it is a liner, more subtle substance, which he
sometimes calls foe (ttO/o), sometimes warm breath (■v/^i'X?;),
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 tlie
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-

» Chief sources: Plato, Crahjlns, p. 402 A; Pint. Is. el Osh:, 45,
48; Clem, of Alex., Strom., V. pp. 599,003; Diog, L., IX.; Sext.
Emp., Ado. virith., VII., 126, 127, 133; Stolwus; Sclileiermacher,
Herakleitoa der Dunkle von Epheaos, {Complete Works, Part IH., vol. 2,
Berlin, 1838) ; Jac. Bernays, Heraclilea, Bonn, 1848 ; Die HeraklitixcJien
Br'ipfe, Berlin, 1809; [Las.salle, Die Philonophie Herakleitos dex Dunkeln
von Ephesox, 2 vols., Berlin, 1858; Teiclimiiller, Studien and Neue Stu-
dien, quoted above; E. Pfleidorcr, Die Philosophie dcs Heraklit von
Ephexux, Berlin, 1880; G. T. W. Patrick, Hentelitttx on Nature, Balti-
more, 1889. — Ti:.]; Mullacli, I., pp. 310 ff. ; Ilerarliti Ephesii reliquio',
collected by Bywater, Oxford, 1877; Bitter and Preller, 24 ff. ; [Bur-
net, pp. 13.3 ff.].

' The phy.sicH of Ileraclitu.s reminds one of the mechanical theory
of heat taut,dit by modern physics, ■which, like the sage of Ephesus,
oonBiderfl all organic life as a transformation of solar heat.

34 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

plieric air and water are fire in process of extinction or in
process of renewal ; earth and solids are extinguislied 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 opposite direction, to its principle ;
then it thickens again, re-ascends into the heavens, and so
on ad infinitum. The universe is, therefore, fire in the
process of transformation (vri/po? Tpoirai), 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 word, being, is an illusion of the senses. It is not
possible to descend twice into the same stream ; i nay, it is
not even possible to descend into it once ; we are and we
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 fiow 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 trans-
form the celestial fii'e into solid matter ; while the other

1 Plato, Cratylus, p. 402 A : iravra X<«>pfi f«' ovhkv fxevei k. t. X.

HERACLITUS 35

re-ascends into the heavens, and strives to change earth
into fire. It is this continuous battle between two con-
trar}" currents that produces all vegetable, animal, and
intellectual life on the sui'face of the earth. Everything
arises from the strife of opposites.^ Organic life is pro-
duced by the male and the female ; musical harmony, by
sharp and flat notes ; it is sickness that makes us appre-
ciate health ; ^dthout exertion, there can be no sweet
repose ; without danger, no courage ; without evil to over-
come, no \drtue. Just as fire lives the death of air, air,
the death of fu-e, water, the death of air, earth, the death
of water; so, too, the animal lives the death of the vege-
table, man, the death of the animal, the gods, the death
of man, virtue, the death of vice, and vice, the death of
virtue. Hence, good is a destroyed evil, evil, a vanished
good ; and since evil does not exist without the good, nor
the good without the evil, evil is a relative good, and good
i relative evil. Like being and non-being, good and evil
disappear in the universal harmon3^

The emphasis which Heraclitus la3S on the perpetual
flux and the absolute instability of things, on the vanity of
all in<lividual existence, the impossilnlity of good without
evil, of pleasure without pain, of life witliout death, makes
liim the typical pessimist of antiquity, as opposed to the
optimist, Democritus.2 His negation of being likewise
implies scepticism.^ Inasmuch as truth is the same to-day,
to-morrow, and forever, there can be no certain and final
knowledge if everything perceived by the senses constantly
changes. Tlie senses, however, are not our only means of

1 Ililipolytiis, Ref. hfcr. IX., 9: rroXf/xor (Darwin would translate it
struf/f/le for life) -ni'ivrtjiv nuTrp tan kiu jUacriXfVi.

2 See § 12.

« The school of lleraclilu.s, and particularly Cratylua, the best
known of hia diaciples and one of the teachers of Plato, taught
scepticism.

36 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

knowledge; in addition to them we have reason (voG?,
\6yo<i). The senses show us what passes away, and knowl-
edge that is based on sensation alone is deceptive • reason
reveals to us what is staljle : the divine law (6^eto? v6fxo<;),
the only fixed point in the eternal flow of things. But
the most enlightened human reason is still as far removed
from divine reason as the ape is removed from human per-
fection.i gy distinguishing between the sensible phenome-
non and the noumenon, as Heraclitus did, Ionian philosophy
emerges from the state of innocence, as it were ; it begins
to suspect its methods, to distrust itself, to ask itself
whether the ontological problem can really be solved at
all ; in a word, it foreshadows the critical question.

Anthropology cuts loose from general speculation and
begins to form a prominent part in the system of Hera-
clitus. The soul is an emanation of the celestial fire,
and can live only by remaining in contact with this source
of life. It is constantly renewed by means of respiration
and sensation. Generation is the transformation of the
liquid seed into dry breath. Hence the latent fire of the
earth passes through the liquid state and returns to its
original condition in the human soul. The driest breath
constitutes the wisest soul, but woe to the drunkard who
prematurely causes Ins soul to pass back into the liquid
state ! In death the breath of life or the soul gradually
returns to earth. An individual's energy will depend upon
his more or less constant communion with the celestial fire,
the supremely intelligent and wise soul of the world.

Here we have the first feeble beginnings of physiological
psychology, and they are naively materialistic. The phil-
osophy of this period speaks of mind as popular chemistry
speaks of spirits and essences ; but though materialistic,
it is so little aware of the fact that it does not even
possess a technical term for matter. We are not con-
1 See the Greater Hippias, p. 289 A.

THE PYTHAGOREAN SPECULATION 37

scious of ourselves except in opposition to what we are
not. Hylozoism does not become materialism until it is
opposed by the spiritualism of the Pythagoreans.^

To sum up : All things proceed from a dry and warm
principle and eventually return to it ; everytliing is in a
state of perpetual change, and there is nothing immutable
in the eternal process but the Law wliich governs it and
wliich neither gods nor men can mochfy.

C. Explanation of Beco^ming
8 9. The Pythagorean Speculation

Do the metaphysical doctrines of Pythagoreanism ^ go
back, in part at least, to Pythagoras himself? Are they
the teacliings of the members of the Pythagorean order, of
men like Philolaus, who was exiled from Italy in the first
half of the fifth century, and Archytas, who flourished at
Tarentum during the second half of that centuiy ? The
mystery in which the order was enshrouded from the
very beginning makes it altogether impossible to answer
this question. Aristotle himself seems to be in doubt in
the matter ; he never speaks of the teachings of Pythagoras,

^ Ilippasus of Crotoua (or ^Mptapontuin) fuses Ileracliteaii and
Pythagorean conceptions. See Kitter and Preller, p. -14.

■■' Stobaeus, Eclog., I.; Plato, Timceua; Aristotle, Met., I., 5 passim,
Decalo, II., 13; Diog. L., VIII.; Porjiliyry, Life of Pjjthar/ams; Juni-
bliclius, Life of Pijthagoras ; RluUach (P;/tha(/oreinn carmen aureitm,
p. 193; Ocelli Lucani de tiniversa nalura libellus, 388; 1 1 ieroclis co?n-
menlarius in carmen aurenm, 410; Pi/lhnf/oreorwn aliorumque philosopho-
rum frarpnenla, 18;") ff. [vol. II., pp. 9 if.]) ; Hitter and Preller, pp . 10
ir. ; [Hitter, (Jesrhic/ile der pi/lhrir/oreischen P/tilosophie, Ilaniburi;', 182(5];
A. Laugel, Pi/l/iof/ore, sa iloclrine et son histoire il'a/ires hi critique alle-
mantle ( Revue (les Deur-Momles, 1804); C. Scliaarscliniidt, Die anf/ehliche
Schriftstellerei r/es Philolnnx, etc., Bonn, 1864; Chaignet, Ptjtliaqore et la
philosophic piflhnfforicienne, Paris, 1873. [See also Grote's History o
Greece, vol. II.]

38 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

but only of the Pythagoreans. However that may be,
one thing is certain : the first impetus towards arithmetical
speculation known under the name of Pythagorean phil-
osophy was given by the great mathematician of Samos,
and even though direct and positive proofs are wanting,
nothing can liinder us from proclaiming him as the origi-
nator of the doctrines set forth in this section.

Pythagoras, like Thales, of Ionian origin, was born at
Samos during the first half of the sixth century. He was
at first the pupil of the theologian Pherecydes and perhaps
also of Anaximander, the physicist. According to a tradi-
tion which, it must be confessed, has nothing to warrant it
among the ancients, he visited Phoenicia, Egypt, and Baby-
lon, where he was initiated into the Eastern theological
speculations, and introduced to the study of geometry,
which had already attained a liigh degree of perfection on
its native soil. Returning to Greece aljout 520, he realized
his ideals of religious, social, and philosopliical reform at
Crotona in ^lagna Grsecia, l)y founding a kind of brother-
hood, the members of which entertained the same opinions
concerning morality, politics, and religion.^

1 "When we compare the doctrines, aims, and organization of this
brotherhood, as portrayed by the Xeo-Platonic historians (especially
Jamblichus), with Buddhistic monachisra, we are almost tempted
(with Alexander Polyhistor and Clement of Alexandria) to regard
Pythagoras as the pupil of the Brahmans, nay, to identify him with
Buddha himself. Indeed, not only do the names (J1v6mv, Uvdayopas
= an inspired one, a soothsayer, and Buddha = enlightened) bear such
close resemblance to each other that even the most fastidious philol-
ogist can find no objection in translating Uvdayopeios by " preacher of
Buddhism," but the P\i;hagoreau and Buddhistic teachings are very
much alike. Dualism, pessimism, metempsychosis, celibacy, a common
life according to rigorous rules, frequent self- examinations, medita-
tions, devotions, prohibitions against bloody sacrifices and animal
nourishment, kindliness towards all men, ti'uthfulness, fidelity, justice,
— all these elements are common to both. The fact that most ancient
authors 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, — geometrj^,
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 life of Pythagoras, would tend to confirm
the hypothesis of the identity of Pythagoreanisni and Buddhism.
However, the existence of Pythagoras, the mathematician, five centu-
ries before the Christian era, is placed beyond doultt by the testimony
of Heraclitiis, Herodotus, etc. Furthermore, Buddhism in the form
of Manicha;ism (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-
goroanism of the Neo-Platonic historians and primitive and genuine
Pythaforeanism. Tlie 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 then- 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 tlie subjfct-matter of Pythago-
rean instruction, were called fiadnfinra, — the term from wliich tlic word
mathematics is derived. The original meaning of the word omliracoo
the totality of human knowledge,

40 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

perpetual movement; what impresses Pythagoras and the
Pythagoreans is the immaterial in matter, the order which
prevails in the world, the unity, proportion, and harmony
in its contrasts, the mathematical relations underlying all
thino-s. 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
beino- 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 the
essence of number. Pythagoreanism distinguishes two
Ivinds of unities : (1) the Unity from which the series of
numbers (Ijeings) is derived, and which therefore contains
and comprehends them all; the absolute and unopposed
unity, the Monad of monads (?} /xom?), the God of gods ;
and (2) the One, the first in the series of derived numbers,
which is opposed to the numbers tioo, tJvree, and every plu-
rality (yr\i]9o<i^, and consequently limited by the two, the
three, and the plurality; it is a relative unity, a created
monad (^to eV). The opposition between the 07ie and the
majii/ is the source of all the rest. All the contrasts of
nature, the dry and the moist, the Avarm and the cold, the
clear and the obscure, the male and the female, the good
and the evil, the finite {Treirepaa- [xevov) and the infinite
(diretpov), are but varieties of the ev and the ttXt/^o?, or
of the odd (jrepmov) and the even {apnov). Plurality
as such is without 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 aireipov^ since the aireipov 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 they 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 wlien the universe did not exist. The world has
existed e| a/ww? kuI ek aiMva, and the cosmogony simply
aims to explain the order, law, or series, according to which
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 (aKovaixarLKoi), and represents the eternal unity
as a sphere {r) rod 7ravTo<; a(^alpa), as a compact sphere, in
which ihe parts are not distinguished (irXrjpe^;, avvex^<i\
and which floats in the infinite (aireipov). The ideal opposi-
tion l)etween the even and the odd, the one and tlie many,
becomes the real o])position of the full and the void. At
the origin of things, the full was without the voi<l, oi', at
least, the void was external to it. The foimation of the
cosmos Ijegins by the vend l)reaking in upon the full.
This process is like a perpetual breath which iinilates the
world (tti/o/;, irvevpa). The; void penetrates the a<^alpa
and establishes itself in it, thereljy breaking it up into au

42 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

infinite number of infinitesimal particles, reduced images of
the (T(f>aLpa (the ciro/xa of the atomists). Since, from the
geometrical point of view, quality is reduced to quantity
and form, these 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, fire, air,- water,
and etlier. Fire is the element par 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 {karla rov iravTO'i), around which revolve (1) tlie Oura-
nos, embracing the coufiter-earth (avrix^av) and the earth ;
(2) the Cosmos proper, consisting of the moon, the sun (?)
and the planets ; (3) the Olympus with the fixed stars.
Pythagoras substitutes for the earth a central fire (which
is invisible because the earth keeps facing it with the part
that is opposite to the one we inhabit), and makes the earth
revolve around this centre. But tliis does not mean, of
course, that he advanced the heliocentric theory ; he merely
foreshadowed the system which his school formulated
during the following centuries without 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 which 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 being, the physical point,
produces the line ; the line moves and produces the plane ;

THE PYTHAGOREAN SPECULATION 43

the plane produces the body, 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 witliin certain limits. When these limits are
passed, proportion becomes disproportion, an unequal strug-
gle, disease, decay, and death. But the ideal contents of
the 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 introduce into Greek thought
one of the most important factors in the solution of the
Eleatic-Heraclitean problem: What is becoming or the
process 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 infinitosimal
particles or physical points of which matter is made up.
The subsequent systems all attempt to reconcile Elea and
Ei)hesus by means of the physico-arithmetical theory of
elementary units. Thought discovers in the atomistic
hypothesis the middle term that unites Parmenides, who
denies the great empirical fact of generation and change,
and Heraclitus^ who sacrifices being and its permanence to
becoming, — tliereby combining the two rival systems into
a liigher synthesis, — and lays the foundation for every
rational explanation of the process of becoming. Hence-

44 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

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 j)lace : 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^ou?), 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 ; Init it is con-

1 Sext. Emp., Adv. math., VTL, 123; Simplicius, In PJn/s., f. 24,
f. 76; Plutarch, De plac. pJnl; Aristotle (Met., Phys., and Psychology),
etc.; Fragments of Empedocles, collected by A. Peyron (Leipsic, 1810),
S. Karsten (Relii/mce pUl vet. gr., vol. IT., Amst., 1838), Th. fBergk
(Leipsic, 1843), II. Stein (Bonn, 1852), Mullach (I., pp. 1 ff.), Rittei
and PreUer (pp. 125 ff.) ; [Burnet, pp. 218 ff.].

EMPEDOCLES 45

ceivable that the thousand different combinations of these
elements should 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.

Hsi\e the fo^ir elements {arofxela) movement of their own,
or have they received it from a distinct principle, from a
Irigher 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 {(f)iXia,
^fXoT?;?, aTopyrj) or the principle of union, and Discord
(veiKO'i, epL<;, e;^^o?), the principle of separation.^ These two
motive causes, which the imagination of the poet interprets
as opposing divinities, alternately rule the elements. Love
first unites them and forms them into a single spherical
body {(r(f)alpo<;). Discord ensues and divides them ; as a
result, the earth, the ocean, the atmosphere, the heavenly
ether, and the stars arise. This period of })rimitive crea-
tion, which is tlie A\'ork of Discord, is followed by an epoch
of struggle between Discord and Love, during which
plants, animals, and men originate. Discord lias, in sepa-
rating the elements, prepared for each class of beings the
habitation adapted to them, l)ut it coidd not form tlie organ-
isms themselves, which are a mixture of the four elcmoits
and consecpiently tlie work of the unifying i)rinciple, the
product of Love reacting against tli(; exclusive sway of vVn-

^ Nowaflays we should us<j the terms attraction and niitilsion. The
cosmogony of KmiMidocles contains the germ of Kant's.

46 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

tipatliy. Although the two principles are now at war with
each other, Love will ultimately gain the victory, and the
four spheres of the world, which are at present separated,
will, on the last day, be combined into a new chaos. This
alternation between periods of separation and periods of
union is a fatal necessity, and will go on forever.

Like Anaximander and Heraclitus before him, Empe-
docles explains the origin of beings by the process of
evolution, but he explains it in his own way. Their
organs, he believes, first arose as shapeless and discon-
nected rudiments, then disappeared and reappeared, sepa-
rated and reunited, until, at last, they were adapted to
each other and joined together for good. The first forma-
tion of these beings was the result of chance ; but their
preservation, proficiency, and development were due to the
fitness which they ultimately attained.^ Our philosopher
also regards individual existence as a doubtful good. He
is, therefore, the precursor of Schopenhauer as well as of
Darwin. With Heraclitus and Hippasus, he identifies the
soul with the fiery principle. Discord detached it from
the a^atpo';, in which it originally existed, mixed with
all the other beings. Like the rest, it will eventually
return thither. Life is the expiation of the soul's desire
for a separate existence. Passing through the stages of
plant, animal, and man, it rises by degrees, and, by absti-
nences, fasts, and continent living, finally again becomes
worthy of returning to God. The propagation of the hu-
man species is an evil, since it perj^etuates the actual state
of things and retards their return to the original unity .^

1 MuUach, pp. 315, 316.

2 The same views are held by Anaximander, who regards death as
an expiation; by Plato, who despises the world of sense, and eagerly
desires the return to the realm of pure ideas ; by Plotinus of Lyco-
polis, who is ashamed of his body and the manner in which he entered
into the world. The religious conceptions of the fall, of original sin
and expiation are familiar to Aryan Europe as well as to Asia.

EMPEDOCLES 47

Man is the image of the a(f)alpo<i. The four radical elements
are represented in him : the earthly element, by the solid
parts 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 superioritj^ follows from
the fact that all the cosmical elements are concentrated in
him. He perceives everything, because he is everything ;
he 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 homceojjathic as distinguished from the allopatliism
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 the four elements are most closely mingled, is the
seat of sensation and of the soul. This is proved by the
fact that when 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 health}" and good wlien our blood is
normally composed (/xeo-?; Kpaai^). The blood is sacred,
and ought not to serve as noui-ishment. In these doctrines,
which remind us of Egypt, Moses, Buddha, and Zoroaster,
we see the dawn, as it were, of modern pliysiology.

In his theology, Empedocles conceals his naturalism
under the traditional forms of mythology. He deifies —
in name onlj, not actually, like popular belief — the
four elements, which he calls Zeus, Hera, Orcus, and
Nestis, and the two motive principles. Love and Discord.
But we find in Empedocles, alongside of liis tlieological
atomism and naturalized polytheism, Eleatic monism and
the tendency to reduce elements and j)rinciples to a liiglier
unity, which is tlie 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 PHILOSOPHY

fable, invisible, incorporeal God, flashing through the whole
world with rapid thoughts.^

The leading thought 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 the order-
ing vov<i, anticipates the teleology of Plato and Aristotle.

§ 11. Anaxagoras

Anaxagoeas 2 was born at Clazomense in Ionia, of an
illustrious family. He seems to have emigrated to Athens
about 460, and to have been, for thirty 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 towaids tlie 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
^vaeoj'iy a few 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 MuUach, p. 12, V. 395: —

^pijv ifpfj Koi d6tiT(f)aTOs enXfTo fiovvov
(ppovTicn. Kt'iafxov airavra KaraLcrcrovaa 6of)cn,v.

2 Aristotle, Met., I., 3 ; passim ; Simplicius, In Phijs., f. 33, 34, 35,
38; Diog. Laertius ; Fm^men^s collected by Schaiibach (Leipsic, 1827),
Schorn (Bonn, 1829), MuUach (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 el la doctrine d' Anaxagore,
Paris, 1848.

ANAXAGORAS 49

1. The Materials of the Cosmogony. — Mattel
cannot be reduced to a single element, to a homogeneous
substance, like water, aii-, or fii*e, 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 iniinite number of them. These
germs of things (jjirepixara) are infinite in number and
infinitely small (^(^pii'-j^aTa airetpa koI irXriOo^ koI a-fJUKpo-
r}]ra), uncreated, indestructible, and absolutely unchange-
able in essence. The quantity of these fii'st principles is
always the same; nothing can be destroyed or added
(jravra laa aei . . . ael Travra ovSev iXdcrao) ecrrlv ovSe
TrXetoj) ; 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 VvTong. 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, which still continue to exist.
Hence it would be better to call coming into being, mixture,
and j^assing away or death, separation} There is no other
change except change of place and grouping, external meta-
morphosis, movement; the notion of change of essence or
ti-ansubstantiation is a contradiction.

2. Efficient and Fiscal 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. The latter are inert and incapable of moving by
themselves. Hence they cannot account for the move-

* Simplicins, In Phya., 3 1 : To 5f yli'taffat koi dnoWvirdni ovk 6p6uyi
vofii^ovniv ol "EXXfjz/ff ■ ov^iv ya/) )(f)rifin ovi^e ytverai ov^e unoWvrai, aXX'
anb (i')VT<t)V ^(prjiiuTOiiv (TvfXixioytTdl re kui SinAcpiVfrai. Km oiTcof 3i/ opdSit
KoXoitv TO T( yivtaOai avpiiia-ytadai, koi to dnoXXvaOai SiaKpiutadai,

50 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

ment in the woi-ld and the order which rules it. In order
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 them. The latter are wholly
passive ; the vov'i, however, is endowed with spontaneous
activity; it is perfectly free {avTOKparr}^)^ 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 past, present, and future ; it has ariunged
and organized everything with design and according to
its teleological htness ; it is the eternal governor of the
universe, more powerful than all the other elements put
together.

3. Cosmogony. — In the beginning, the inert and
unintelligent elements were all jumbled together {ojjlov
irdvTo). In this original chaos (/jLiyfia), 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'i iXOcov iravra 8l€k6-
a/xTjae). 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 fity/jia 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 last, in the
heavenly regions, the most subtle elements, the tier}-
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 receives
the shape which it now has. The stars are solid masses,
which were torn from the earth by the rotatory motion
originally possessed by it in common with the rest of the
universe, and which were ignited by coming in contact
witli tlie celestial ether. The sun is a fiery mass, fMv8po<;
hidirvpo^. The moon has mountains and valleys in it, and
borrows its light from the sun.

The views Avliich we have just expounded forecast the
cosmogonic theories of Buffon, Kant, and Laplace. Anaxa-
goras also anticipates comparative physiology by advancijig
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 tlie vov<;. If man is more intelligent than animals, it
is, lie believes, because liis 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
bemgs, or is it but the sum of all the intelligences, all
the purposes, and all tlie motive forces, whence move-
ment in general results ? On the one hand, it is certain
that, inasmucli as the vov<i 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 Spinoza and the 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^i is free and conscious of its
action, tliat he regards the word Fate (elfiapfjiev't]) 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 upon them
in a purety 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 vou<i 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 vou<i, without even susjDccting that he
was contradictincr himself.

The same may be said in answer to the question whether
the voik 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 vov<i are altogether like those of the spirit
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 vou<; and material substances : the wO?, in fact, is the
finest, the most mobile thing of all {XeirroTaTov Travrcov
■^(^priixdrwv) ; it is identical with the ar)p -xjrvxi] of Anax-

DIOGENES OF APOLLONIA, ARCHELAUS, ETC. 53

imenes.^ Hence, it is merely the highest kind of matter
and, consequently, not absolutely opposed to it as in spirit-
ualism proper. The dualistic conception is, as yet, only
vaguely defined in the system of Anaxagoras, who finds it
hard to cut loose from the materialism of the physicists.
Tliis is evident from the fact that Archelaus, his disciple,
considers the vov<i as the finest kind of matter. Moreover,
Anaxagoras himself fails to apply the notion of finality
and his principle that the prime mover is an intelligent
being. Aristotle justly censures him for using mind as a
deus ex macliina to account for the movement of matter,
and then wholly abandoning it for physical and mechanical
causes as soon as it has served his purpose in explaining
the origin of the first movement.^

Nevertheless, Anaxagoras went far enough in spiritual
ism to cause a reaction in Ionian physics, which became
decidedly materialistic in consequence of this opposition.

8 12. Diogenes of Apollonia, Archelaus, Leucippus,
Democritus

1. Diogenes of Apollonia^ rejects both the pluralism
of elements and the dualism of unintelligent matter and
immaterial intelligence. He is a disciple of Aiiaximenes,
and assumes only one original element, air, which is the
source of all life in nature, and tlie essence of all bodies.
Mind, -wliicli Anaxagoras seems to regard as a separate

* 'I'lms Aristotle finds fiiuK \\\\\\ Anaxagoras for ideiitifyinsj^ i/oCs
witli -^vxT}- thoii(,Oi prctciidin^- to distinguish between ihoin {Do
animn, T., 2).

2 Aristotle, Met., T., 4, 7. C"f., Plato, Pl,fr,1o. 07 R.

» Simplicius, In Pfn/s., ^'2, .3.3; Diog. L., TX. ; [Fmrfmrnts, coll. hy
Schorn, Tionn, 1829]; Mnllach, T., pp. 252 ff. ; fHittn- and Picllcr. ].p.
172 ff. : Hurnot, pp. 'VW f . ; .'^oliloicrniafln'r, Udter Dini/rnes vnn Apol-
Innin (Works, i>art TIL, vol. 2, R.-rlin, 1S.'5S) ; Panzerbieter, De Ding
A. vita et scriptis, Mciningcn, 1823. — Tk.].

54 GEEEK PHILOSOPHY

principle, is wholly dependent on air. This is proved by
the fact that the spirit leaves the body as soon as the
breath 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
(jxeya Kol ia')(ypov kol athiov re ical aOdvarov koX ttoWo,
eiSo9). It is the opinion of this physicist, whose views
are closely akin to those of Melissus and the Eleatics, that
dualism is the negation of the fundamental principle of
science (e^ ez'o? aTravra). I believe, he goes on to say, that
all things are differentiations of the same thing, and are
the same thing ; and this seems obvious to me. How,
indeed, could the so-called elements, earth, water, air, etc.,
mix with one another, if they were not fundamentally the
same ? How could they help or harm each other ? How
could the earth produce plants, and plants animals ? Let
us therefore confess, with the ancient physicists, that all
things arise from the same substance, and are destined to
return to the same thing.^

2. Aechelaus.^ — Archelaus of Athens, or, according
to others, of Miletus, is a disciple of Anaxagoras. He ad-
heres to his teacher's atomism, but protests against the
dualistic interpretation of his system. The vov'i is a sepa-
rate thing like water, gold, and iron. It differs from these
substances as these substances differ among themselves.
Gold is not iron, but iron and gold are both matter. So,
too, mind, though neither gold nor iron, is, nevertheless,

i MuUach, p. 254. [Ritter and Preller, p. 173.]
2 Diog. L., II. ; SimpL, In Arist. Phjs., fol. 6 ; [Ritter and Preller,
pp. 178 ; Mullach, I,, pp. 257 ff . ; Burnet, pp. 367 ff.].

THE ATOMISTS 55

material ; it is the finest, the most subtle, the most intan-
gible substance, without, however, being a simple tiling.
A simple substance is a substance that is composed of
nothing, and consequently does not exist. Matter and
substance are, therefore, synonymous terms.

3. The ATo:\nsTS. — That is also, on the whole, the
teaching of Leucippus and his cUsciple, Democritus of
Abdera, in Thrace, the most learned of the Ionian physi-
cists and the head of the ancient and modern materialistic ^
school (420 B.C.). His numerous writings have been lost,
but important fragments remain. Besides, direct sources
being wanting, we may refer to the exposition of atomistic
principles in the poem of Lucretius.^

The somewhat vague doctrines of Anaximenes, Dio-
genes, and Anaxagoras, on the nature and organization
of matter, are clearly formulated by Democritus.^ With
Anaximenes and Diogenes, he affirms the homogeneity
of all bodies; but, with Anaxagoras, he conceives this
indeterminate matter as divided into an infinite num-
ber of infinitely small molecules, which come together and
separate. In that way bodies are formed and destroyed.
These molecules are infinite in number and indivisible

1 We say muterialistic, and not atomhtic. For atomism is as old as
Anaxagoras and his theory of the ^pr^fiaTa "meipa kqi n'KTJdos Km afiiKpo-
TT]Ta, in fact if not in name.

2 [De natiira rerum, ed. by Lachmann (1850), Bernays (1852),
Munro, with Eng. tr. (1886). See Masson, The Atomic Theory of
Lucretius, London, 1884. — Tr.]

« Aristotle, Met., I., 4; De coelo, III., 2; De mwna, I., 2; Sext.
Emp., Adv. math., VII., 135; Diog. L., IX.; Lucretius, De rerum
natura; Clem, of Alex., Stromaleix; Mullach, I., pp. 330 ff . ; Ritter
and Preller, ])p. 154 ff. ; [Liard, De Democrito philofopho, Paris, 1873;
Brii.'ger, Die Urhm-egnng der Atome, Ilalle, 1884; Natorp, Forschungen
zur Geschichte des Erlcenntnis.sprohletnx im Alterlhum, Berlin, 1884;
Liepmann, Die Mechanik der Leucipp-Dcmolritschen Atome, Leipsic,
1885; Hart, Zur Seelen- und Erkcnntnisdehre des Demnkrit, Mu\hauseu.
1880; Xatorp, Die Ethika des Demokrilos, Marburg, 1803. — Th.].

56 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

(aTOfxa), without, however, being mathematical points, for
an unextendecl thing would be nothing. They are identi-
cal in chemical quality (to yevo'i eV), but differ in size
(lu,€ye6o<;) and form (ax^f^a,)- They are endowed with pe]>
petual motion, which they do not receive from a tran^
scendent principle, but which belongs to their essence.
The force which moves them acts according to necessity
(Ka6' elfxapfievr] vtt avdjKi]'i), and not, as Anaxagoras
seems to think, according to design (vov-i) and purpose
(reXo^;). Democritus rejects all teleology, but denies chance
also, though he sometimes employs the word ruxv in the
sense of necessity {avd<yfC7]). According to him, the word
" chance " merely expresses man's ignorance of the real
causes of phenomena. Nothing in nature happens without
cause ; all things have their reason and necessity.^

The Eleatics denied the void and consequently motion.
To assume movement is equivalent to affirming the void
(rb Kevov). If there were no void, the atoms could not
even be distinguished from one another; that is to say,
they could not exist. Hence the void is the incUspensable
condition of their existence. It is also the condition of
movement, and therefore as important in the formation of
things as the full {to irXrjpe'i). The void is, as it were, a
second principle, which is added to the ^natter of material-
ism, and gives the system of Democritus the dualistic
turn which the most consistent monistic philosophies have
not been able wholly to avoid. The void of Democritus
meets us under the name of uTreipov in Pythagoras ; it is
the fir) 6v of Plato, Aristotle, and Plotinus, the negativity
of Campanella and of Hegel. Democritus regards it as the
condition of motion and of matter ; the idealists regard it
as the condition of the dialectical movement of thought.
The perpetual motion {atho^ Kivr}ai<;) produces a whirl'

1 Stobfeus, Ed. pJnjs., p. 160; Mullach, p. 365: Ov8ev xpw^ f^^'''T
yiverai, a\\a navra f k "koyov Km vn dmyKi]s.

THE ATOMISTS 57

ing movement (Stw?) among the atoms, in consequence of
which they are combined according to their external affin-
ities, — that is, according to size and form ; for since they
are all chemically the same, they neither attract nor repel
each other. The heaviest atoms naturally move down-
wards in infinite space, while the lightest form the atmos-
phere. Some atoms have uneven, rough, sharp, or hooked
surfaces. These catch hold of each other and form acid or
bitter substances ; while atoms with smooth surfaces form
substances which impress the senses agreeably. The soul
consists of the finest, smoothest, and therefore most nimble
atoms. When such atoms exist in isolation, or are mixed
together in small quantities, the soul-atoms are insensible ;
when they are joined together in large masses, they acquire
the faculty of sensation. They are scattered over the en-
tire body, but gathered together more numerously in the
sense-organs, where sensation is produced : in the brain, the
seat of thought ; in the heart, the seat of the affections ; and
in the liver, the seat of desire. Sensation and perception
are explained as follows : Effluences {airoppoiai) go forth
from all bodies and enter our organs of sense, where they
excite sensation, and the brain, where they produce ideas
or images of things {elhaXa).

Sensation is the only source of knowledge, and there is
nothing in thought that has not passed tlu'ough the channel
of the senses. Our ideas represent our impressions, that
is, the relations existing between ourselves and the external
world; they are not direct reproductions of the objects
themselves, the inner essence of which is concealed from
us. We ctre self-conscious as long as the soul-atoms remain
intact in the body ; sleep ensues, and with it loss of con-
sciousness, when a certain number of atoms escape ; when
nearly all of tliem escape, and ])ut a few remain, Ave fall
into a state of seeming deatli ; aii<l, fniiilly, when all the
psychical atoms are separated from the Ijody at once, we

58 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

die. Deatli cannot destroy these atoms, because the atom
is indivisible and therefore indestructible ; it destroys their
temporary union in a body, and, consequently, the individ-
uality formed by such a union. Since feeling does not
belong to isolated atoms, but is jjroduced only by a combin-
ation of atoms in the brain and in other organs, death puts
an end to feeling and destroys the personality.

The gods are more powerful beings than man, but their
immortality is not absolute. Since they are composed of
atoms, like mortals, they eventually succumb to the com-
mon fate of all, though they live longer than human beings.
In the eternal universe, no one has any absolute privileges.
Since the gods are more powerful and wiser than ourselves,
we should venerate them. We may assume that they come
into relation with us, — in cbeams for example ; but we
should free ourselves from all superstitious fears concern-
ing them, and not forget that above these beings, however
powerful they may be, there is one still more powerful than
they, — Necessity, the supreme, impersonal, and impartial
law which governs the heavens and the earth. To this law,
which nature imposes upon all beings alike, we must submit
with joyous hearts. Our happiness depends upon it.^

Atomistic materialism culminates in scepticism in Pro-
tagoras of Abdera, the philosophy of Heraclitus in Cratylus,
and the Eleatic doctrine in Gorgias. This period forms a
fruitful crisis in the history of Greek philosophy. Though
temporarily discouraged by the examination of her resources
for knowing the truth, philosophy emerged from the dark-
ness, strengthened and exalted, conscious of her powers,
and enriched by a series of studies that had, until then,
never been pursued; I mean the intellectual and moral
sciences.

1 See Bur chard, Fragment e der Moral des Aider iten Demokritus,
Minden, 1834. For the points of contact between Democritus and
modern positivism, see Aristotle, Phys., VIII:, 1, 27.

SECOND PERIOD
AGE OF CRITICISM OR PHILOSOPHY OF :^^KD

§ 13. Protagoras

Peotagoras,^ a fellow-countiyman and friend of Denio-
critiis, acquired fame through the eloquent lectures which
he delivered in Sicily and at Athens. He was no longer a
(f>LX6cT0(f)0'i, but a o-o^to-T779, that is, a teacher of piiilosophy
who received pay for his lessons. His example was fol-
lowed by a number of talented men, who undertook to
acquaint the educated public with the conceptions of the
pliilosophers, which had hitherto been restricted to the
narrow confines of the schools. The laxness of their moral
principles and their unbelief in polytheism caused these
clever popularizers of knowledge to be stigmatized as
Sophists. Their work, however, ranks in importance with
that of the Humanists and Encyclopedists. Pampered as he
was by the cultured, wealthy, and sceptical youths of the
age, but detested by the common people, who remained pas-

1 The Thecetetus of Plato ; Diog. L., IX. ; Sext. Emp., Hiipohjp., I.,
217; Adv. math., VII.; [Mullach, vol. II., Iviii., pp. 130 ff.] ; R'itter
and Preller, pp. 183 ff. ; Vitringa, De Profogorce vita et philosnphla,
Groeniiigen, 18.52; [Xatorp, For.schiingcn zitr Geschichte des Erlennl-
nissprohlems (see above, page 55) ; Harpf, Die Ethik des Protaijoras,
Heidelberg, 1884. For the Sophists in general, see Grote, Hislory oj
Greece, vol. VIIT. ; Hegel ; Hermann, Geschichte und System der plato-
nischen Philosnphie, pp. 179 ff., 290 ff.; J. Geel, Hisloria critica sophisla-
rum, etc., Utrecht, 1823; Valat, Essai historique sur les sophistes grecs
(Investiqaleur, Paris, 1859) ; Schanz, Bp.itrdge zur vorsok-ratischen Philo-
xophie, I.; Die Sophislen, fliittingen, 1807; Blass, Die allische Beredsavi-
kfiilvon Gorf/ias bis zu Lysias, Leipsic, 1808; II. Sidgwick, The Sophists
{Journal of Philology, IV., 1872, pp. 288-300; V., 1873, pp. 00-80);
Siebeck Untersuchungcn znr Philosophic der Griechen (I. : Uebev So
krates' Verhaltniss zur Sophistik), 2d ed., Freilnirg, 1888. — Tu.].

60 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

sionately attached to the religion of their forefathers, Pro-
tagoras, like his contemporaries Anaxagoras and Socrates,
fell a victim to the fanaticism of the masses and the
hypocrisy of the great. He was banished, and his writings
burned in the market-place (411). We may assign as tlie
immediate cause of his condemnation, the doubts Avhich he
expressed concerning the existence of the gods in his book
irepl deoiv.

The scepticism of Protagoras represents the conclusion
of a syllogism of wliich the Trdvra pel of Heraclitus forms
the major, and the sensualism of Democritus, the minor
premise. The sensible world is a perpetual metamori^hosis ;
the senses show only the things that pass away ; they do
not reveal the immutable, necessary, and universal. Hence,
if we would know the truth, we must derive it from a
better source than our deceptive senses ; we must appeal
to reflection, to reason. But, according to Democritus,
reflection is simply the continuation of sensation, from
which it does not essentially differ. Consequently, if sen-
sation is changeable, uncertain, and illusory, and is at the
same time the only source of knowledge, it necessarily
follows that all knowledge is uncertain. No one knows
anything but his own sensations. Things that are not given
to us in sensation do not exist for us. Whatever we feel
exists for 7(s. Since the atoms of Democritus are not
perceived by the senses, they are merely hypotheses without
any real value, and the importance whicli the philosopher
attaches to them is inconsistent with his doctrine. The
same may be said of the germs of Anaxagoras, the elements
of Empedocles, the principles of the school of Miletus;
they are all purely hypothetical theories, and cannot be
demonstrated. There is no truth for man except in what
he perceives, feels, and experiences. And as sensations
differ for different individuals, a thing seeming green to
one and blue to another, large to one and small to another,

PROTAGORAS 61

it follows that there are as many truths as"" individuals ;
that the individual is tlie measure of the true and the false
OjrdvTcov YprjfiaTcov fxerpov dvOpcoiro^, tcov jxev ovroiv co? ecrn,
TMV S' ovK ovTcov w? ovK ecTTLv'^) \ that thcrc are no univer-
sally valid truths or principles, or, at least, that we have
no certain criterion (/cpn^pLov) by which to recognize the
absolute truth of a metaphysical or moral proposition. The
individual is the measure of the true and the good. An
act that benefits one man harms another ; it is good for the
former, bad for the latter. Practical truth, like theoretical
truth, is a relative thing, a matter of taste, temperament,
and education. ]Metaphysical controversies are therefore
utterly vain. It is not possible for us to prove anything
but the particular fact of sensation ; still more impossible
is it to know the causes or ultimate contlitions of reality,
which escape all sense-perception.

Let man, therefore, occupy himself with the only really
accessible object, with himself! Let him abandon his sterile
speculations concerning ultimate causes, and concentrate
his attention upon what is, after all, the only problem of
importance, — the question concerning the conditions of
happiness. Happiness consists in governing one's self and
others ; to govern one's self means to be virtuous ; hence
philosophy is the art of being virtuous. In order to gov-
ern others — in a society that is captivated by the beauties
of language and always ready to sacrifice the matter to the
form — it behooves one to be eloquent, that is, to think
correctly and to speak correctly. Hence, philosophy is
the art of thinking correctly and of speaking correctly. It
consists of the following three branches: practical ethics,
dialectics, and rhetoric.

These doctrines, in which tlie subject and the object are
for the first time opposed to each other, exaggerate a

1 I Hog. L., IX., 51.

62 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

highly important truth : the truth that realit}^ is not some-
thing external to the thinking and feeling subject ; that the
feeling and thinking subject is a coeflicient in the produc-
tion of the phenomenon ; in a word, that thought — whether
it be transformed sensation or something else — is one of
the principles of things, one of those primary conditions of
reality for which philosophy has been seeking, a principle
which it divined in the Xo'70? of Heraclitus, the eV of
Pythagoreanism, and the vov<i of Anaxagoras. Thought
7iot only strives to reduce things to a unity, it is the unify-
ing principle itself (to eV), that which unities and measures
reality. It is, indeed, Trdvrcov '^^^pijfxdrcov /xerpov, and in so far
as it is not conscious of itself except in man, Protagoras
and the Sophists were perfectly right in saying : iravrav
'X^prjijArcov fxerpov dvOpwiro^. This maxim is no less epoch-
making in the liistory of ancient philosophy than the 'yvG>6i
aeavTov of Socrates. It demolishes the past in order to
make room for new and sounder theories based upon the
consciousness of self, and inaugurates tlie age of criticism.

The criticism of Protagoras and the Sophists yields
many fruitful results.

It destroys the mental foundations of polytheism and
prepares the way for the religion of Socrates, Plato, and
the Stoics. In the second place, it destroj's the naive
dogmatism of fantastic speculation ; and its dialectical
extravagances and sophistries compel thought to give an
account of itself, its mechanism, its methods, and its
laws. For several centuries, philosophy had used its
reasoning powers without accounting for the nature and
the forms of the syllogism; it had made its inferences
and deductions without investigating the inductive and
deductive methods. In this respect it resembled the mil-
lions of creatures who see and hear without having the
slightest notion of the mechanism of sight and hearing.
Sophisticism, even though it abuses the laws of thought,

SOCKATES 63

nay, let us say, precisely because it abuses them, makes the
niind conscious of its laws and causes it to analyze them,
and so becomes the forerunner of the science of logic, the
development of which constitutes the glory of Aristotle.
Simultaneously with the science of thought, it creates the
science of its inseparable outer shell, language, — grammar,
syntax, or philology in the broadest sense of the terra. By
laying so much stress on form, and showing such care in
the use of wortls, the Sopliists rendered the Greek language
more flexible, and fashioned it into the wonderful instru-
ment of thought wliicli we admire in the dialogues of Plato.

The error of Protagoras and the subjectivistic Sophists
consists in their interpreting dvdpcoTro^ to mean, not man
in general but the indi\ddual, not the human understand-
ing but the understanding of each particular inchvidual,
and in assuming, in consequence, as many measures of the
true and the false as there are individuals. Protagoras,
like the majority of the Greek philosophers, exaggerates
(1) the physiological and mental differences existing be-
t^veen individuals ; (2) the illusions of sensation. He
ignores the fact which science has since demonstrated,
that the investigator may correct the data of the senses
by means of each other, and his ignorance of this fact
leads him to deny the existence of an objective criterion
of truth. He fails to see that the human reason is
essentially the same in all incUviduals. ^len hinder him
from seeing man.

It is this cardinal error in his philosophy which is recti-
fied by Socrates.

§ 14. Socrates

Socrates of Athens ^ (409-399), once a sculptor like liis
father, was attracted to philosophy by the teachings of the

1 .Sources : Xenophon's Mpmnrnhilla and Spitposium ; Plato, Apol-
og>/. Phuln, PJuetlrus, Metio, Thentetus, etc., Aristotle, Met., T., and

64 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Sophists, and, like them, devoted his life to the instruction
and education of the youth. The brilliancy and spiritual-
ity of his conversation, which was Attic to a fault, the
grandeur of his ideas, the boldness of his political para-
doxes, everything about the man, except his outward form,
was calculated to charm and attract. The martyrdom
which he suffered only helped to raise the admiration of
his many disciples to the highest pitch. Though ar_ adver-
sary of the Sophists, whose venality he condemned, he
resembled them so much that he was mistaken for a
Sophist. Like them, he expressed a contempt for meta-
physics, natural science, which, he said, culminates in
atheism, and mathematics, which, to his mind, consists of
nothing but barren speculations. Like them and like the
true Athenian that he was, he placed the study of the moral
man and of the duties of the citizen in the veiy centre of
education ; like them, finally, he rated the formal culture
of the mind much more highly than material instruction,
without calculating the effect of intellectual freedom on
the religion and the constitution of the State. Hence, he
was, not without some show of reason, identified with the
Sophists, and the hatred of the conservative democracy
in its turn destroyed him. Aristophanes opened the battle
against the reformer. He ridiculed him in the Clouds and

passim ; Cicero, Acad., I., 4, 15, and passim ; Ritter and Preller, 192 ff. ;
Freret, Observations sur les causes de la condamnation de Socrate (an
essay I'ead in the year 1736, printed in the M^moires de I'Acad^mie
des inscriptions, vol. 47 B, pp. 209 if.) ; [Grote, History of Greece, vol.
Vm., chap. 68; Kdchly, Sokrates und sein Volk {A kademische Vortrage
und Reden, I.), Zurich, 1859 ; Alberti, Sokrates, ein Versuch iiber ihn
nach den Quellen, Gottingen, 1869] ; Chaignet, Vie de Socrate, Paris,
1868 ; [Antonio Labriola, La dottrina di Socrate, Naples, 1871 ; Sie-
beck, Ueher Sokrates' Verhdltniss zur Sophistik {Untersuchungen zur
Philosophie der Griechen, 1873; 2d ed., Freiburg i. B., 1888)]; Fouillee,
La philosophie de Socrate, 2 vols., Paris, 1874. [Wildauer, Sokrate^
Lehre vom Willen, Innsbruck, 1877. — Tr.]

SOCRATES 65

at the same time aroused suspicion against his religious
and political vie"\vs. After the fall of the Thirty Tyrants,
Socrates was accused " of not believing in the gods of the
State, of proclaiming other gods, and of corrupting the
youth," and condemned to chink the hemlock (399).

Although Socrates left no writings, we have a better
knowledge of liim than of his predecessors. For this we are
indebted to two of his enthusiastic pupils, Xenophon and
Plato. Their accounts do not, by any means, agree with
one another in all respects. The Socrates of the Memor-
abilia is ' a moral philosopher and an apostle of natural
religion rather than a metaphysician ; the Socrates of the
Dialogues of Plato is a keen and profound thinker, the rival
of Heraclitus, Parmenides, and Anaxagoras. The simplest
explanation of the diiference is as follows : Xenophon pre-
sents the teacliings of the master according to his under-
standing of them ; while Plato, whose philosophical horizon
is broader than that of Socrates, exaggerates the metaphy-
sical import of his doctrine and uses Socrates as a mask
for his own ideas. Happily we liave, besides the very
detailed but sometimes uncertain data of the two disciples,
the opinion of Aristotle to guide us, and he cannot, to say
the least, be accused of partiality.^

The scepticism of Protagoras and the Sopliists forms
the starting-point of the philosophy of Socrates. All he
knows is that he knows nothing ; he is, furthermore, con-
vinced tliat certainty is impossible in the case of physical
science. However, though he is a sceptic in cosmology,
his scepticism does not extend to the field of morals. He
believes — and tliis conviction of liis forms a new and pos-
itive element in tlie pliilosopliy of his times — lie believes
that there is something in the universe tliat can be known,

» Met., I., 6 ; XIII., 4. Top. I., 2. Eth. Nic, passim. [Cf. Klctt,
SoLrdlfis Tifich lien Xenophontischen MfiiiordhUlcii, Canstatt 18n;i. —
Joel, Der echtt und der Xenophonlische SoLrates, Berlin, 189:}. — Tu.].

66 GEEEK PHILOSOPHY

and known absolutely ; this, as the words inscribed on the
temple of Delphi : Know thyself^ indicate, is man. We
can never know exactly what is the nature of the world,
its origin, and its end, but we can know what we ourselves
ought to be, what is the meaning and aim of life, the high-
est good of the soul ; and tliis knowledge alone is real and
useful, because it is the only possible knowledge. Outside
of ethics there can be no serious philosophy.

By making man the real object of science, Socrates evi-
dently did not intend to create a scientific anthropology,
or even to give us a psj^chology in the strict sense of the
word. Man means for him the soul as the seat of" moral
ideas. He accepts no other science than ethics, of which
Aristotle calls him the founder ; but ethics is, in his opin-
ion, a real, certain, and positive science resting on universal
principles. Seemingly, indeed, Socrates does not get beyond
the standpoint of Protagoras and his principle that man is
the measure of all things. But the moral system of the
great Sophist was not scientific, because it failed to recog-
nize universal principles. By man as the measure of all
things, Protagoras means the individual, and not human
nature in general ; he means the particular, accidental,
changreable individual, and not the immutable and neces-
sary moral element which is common to all. He did not
believe in tlie existence of such a fundamental human
nature. Moral ideas do not, in his opinion, possess objec-
tive and absolute value; goodness, justice, and truth
depend upon individual taste, which is the sole and final
judge. There are, therefore, as many systems of ethics as
individuals, which amounts to saying that there is none.
The Sophists were deceived by the diversity of opinions,
judgments, and feelings which they discovered among men.
This diversity is but apparent and on the surface. The
moral ideas lie concealed and slumbering, as it were, be-
neath individual prejudices. We have only to remove this

SOCRATES 67

superficial layer by means of education, in order to dis-
cover in all the same ideas and the same aspirations towards
goodness, beauty, justice, and truth.

Socrates' merit, therefore, consists in having attempted,
at least in morals, to separate the general from the particu-
lar ; in having advanced from the individual to the univer-
sal ; in having again chscovered, beneath the infinite variety
of men^ the one unchangeable man. Beneath the confused
mass of opinions held by a demoralized century, he finds
the true and immutable opinion, the conscience of the
human race, the law of niinds.^ Hence Socrates not only
rendered a service to ethics, he benefited metaphysics as
well. In the midst of intellectual anarchy, he teaches
thought how to infer and define, and helps to put an end
to the confusion of ideas by giving words their exact
meaning.^ Thus, as long as there is no exact definition of
the notion of God, a man has as much right to espouse
atheism as theism : theism, if by God is meant the one
indivisible Providence that governs the world ; atlieism,
if we mean those antlu'opomor^jhic beings with whom the
Greek imagination peopled the Olympus. The main thing,
therefore, is to come to some agreement as to the terms ;
and to this end we must define them exactly, — an art in
which Socrates excelled. He was, says Xenophon,^ untir-
ing in his efforts to examine and define goodness and wick-
edness, justice and injustice, wisdom and folly, courage
and cowardice, the State and the citizen. He did not offer
his definitions to his liearers ready-made. He differed from
the sensualist Protagoras in his conviction that moral
ideas are fundamental to humanity, that eveiy human mind
is hi(j ivitli truth, that education creates notliiug tliat is not
already tliere, but merely awakens and develops the latent

1 The Koivoi \6yoi of Ilcjiaclitiis.

2 AristoU.', Mri., I., (3; XIII., 4, 8-0, Z'>; Top., I., 12.
« Mem., I., 1, 10.

68 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

germs of knowledge. He contented himself with being a
spiritual midivife^ and his chief delight lay in teaching his
hearers how to discover the true definitions for themselves.
A better teacher never lived. He practised his art, which
he loved to compare with that of his mother,^ in the jDublic
places, on the walks, and in the work-shops ; wherever he
found an intelligent face before him. He was in the habit of
plying those whom chance made liis pupils with questions,
— questions that were often trifling in their natui'e. He
began by chiming in with their views. Then, by means of
the most skilful questioning, he gradually forced them to
confess that they knew little or nothing, and, finally,
brought them to see the truth. The dialogues of Plato
give us an insight into the famous dialectical method, which
enabled Socrates to confound the learned pretensions of his
interlocutors, and which has been called the Socratic irony.
Though Socrates sought to enlighten men, to teach
them how to flunk correctly and to know the truth, his
object was not to make them learned, but to make them
happy and useful citizens.^ Ever since the days of Socra-
tes, philosoph}" has regarded it as her prerogative to take
the place of religion, morality, and positive faith, in the
absence of a universally recognized official religion. This
accounts for the peculiar character of the Socratic and
post^Socratic schools, which are as much religious brother-
hoods as learned schools. For Socrates, Avho is, to a cer-
tain extent, a national tliinker, a full-fledged Athenian,
and for whom actual life has greater charms than abstract
theory, vrisdom or knowledge is not the goal ; it is the
means, the indispensable means, of right living, as essential
to the private individual as to the citizen and statesman.
The intimate relation which exists between knowledge and

1 Plato, Thecetelus, 149 A, 151. Mem. IV., 7, 1.

2 Mevi., I., 1, 11 ; Aristotle, Met., I., 6; XIII., 4; De part, anim.,
I., 1, 642 ; Cicero, TuscuL, V., 4.

SOCRATES 69

will constitutes the fundamental principle and, in a meas-
ure, the very soul of his philosophy. The essential thought
is that the more a man thinks and knows, the better will
he act; that our moral value is directly proportional to our
lights. From tliis principle the other cliaracteristic propo-
sitions of his philosophy necessarily follow, namely : that
virtue is teachable ; that it is o)ic^ which means that we
cannot be virtuous in one thing without being so in all
things, or vicious in one without being so in all ; finally,
that no one is voluntarily bad; that evil is the fruit of
ignorance.^

The ethical system of Socrates is a mean between the
idealism of Pythagoras and the realism that is inseparable
from the sensationalistic and materialistic trend of the Ionian
schools. It aims at the ideal, but it loves to express this
ideal in sensible forms, to reflect moral beauty in physical
beauty. Socrates is far from being an ascetic : he strives
to subdue nature, to make it the instrument of intelli-
gence, to rule over it as an absolute master ; but he never
di'eams of suppressing it.^ He is a Grecian and an Athen-
ian above everything else, and so sensitive to external
charms and phj-sical beauty that he feels himself obliged
to wage constant yx-AY with the allurements of matter.

He agrees with liis predecessors on religious matters in
that he repudiates mythology and its fables, without, how-
ever, being a free-thinker in the modern sense. His spirit-
ualistic faith is not even devoid of superstition. He
believes in the supernatural, in superior beings who watch
over nations and insjiire individuals (Sai/xovia). But he
strongly emphasizes the universality of Providence, and
thereby attacks the particularism of the Athenians, thus
paving tlie way for the notion of tlie universal brotherhood
of man, tauglit l)y Stoicism and Cllnistiaiiity.^

' Afcm., III. t); IV., 0; Arist., Kth. Nic, III., 1 ; Vi., 13.
* T'lato, Si/mposium, lid, 214, 220.
» Afem., I., 1, 18; IV., Vi, Vi.

70 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

In short, the founder of Attic philosophy is very much
inferior, as a theorist, to his modern antitype, Emanuel
Kant. Owing to his heroic death, his importance, though
great, was overrated at the expense of that of liis pre-
decessors, who were philosophers of the highest order. But
he is, nevertheless, one of those reformers whose sojourn
on earth has been productive of lasting and fruitful re-
sults. His great work consists in having given to con-
science the honored place wliich it deserves, in having
reinstated the absolute, immutable, and universal. At a
time when men publicly declared that good and evil are
relative, and that the rule for judging an act is not the
" changing " law of conscience, but its success, he had the
courage to proclaim the authority of a conscience that
merely varies in ajDpearance, and the superiority of the
moral law over individual caprice. Now, to maintain the
absoluteness of morality meant the reform of philosophy
as well as that of morals. For, in spite of what indepen-
dent moralists may sa}^, human thought cannot, without
contradiction, affirm the absolute in practice and jQi deny
it in theory.

Of the many disciples of the new school, some, like
Aristippus and Antisthenes, develop the ethical teachings
of Socrates in opijosition to the metaphysical speculations
of the old schools ; others, like Euclides and Plato, unite
the Socratic conception of the liighest good and the Eleatic
notion of the absolute, the end of the moralists and the j^rs^
cause of the metaphysicians, and therebj^ re-establish the
union between the philosophy of morals and the philosophy
of nature, wliich had been dissolved by scepticism.

AKItjTIPPUS, x^NTISTIIENES, EUCLIDES 71

§ 15. Aristippus and Hedonism. — Antisthenes and Cynicism.
Euclides and the School of Megara

1. Aeistippus of Cyrene ^ was a sensualistic Sophist
before joining the Socratics, and adhered to the theoretical
teachings of that school. With Protagoras, he maintains
that all onr knowledge is subjective, and that we cannot
know what things are in themselves. He sharply dis-
tinguishes between the object of knowledge and Kant's
thing-in-itself^ that is, the external and absolutely unknown
cause of our sensations (to eixiTOLrjTiKov tov 7rddov<i^? His
ethics, too, is more in accord with the principles of Pro-
tagoras than those of Socrates. Pleasure {rjhovri) is, ac-
corchng to him, the ultimate aim of life. Hence the name
hedonism is applied to his doctrine, which must not, how-
ever, be interpreted as a coarse sensualism. Pie is a follower
of Socrates and his moral principles on this important
point, and demands, above all, moderation in indulgence,
rational self-command in presence of the allurements of
sense, and intelligent control of the vulgar instincts of our
nature. AVe must, he said, remain masters of ourselves
under all circumstances, so that we may say : ep^co ovk
exofiai, or, as the Latin poet translates the maxim of
Aristippus : —

— Mihi res non me rebus suhjnngere Conor. ^

]\Iental pleasures, friendship, paternal and filial love, art
and literature, take precedence, in the scale of enjoyments,
over fleeting sensuous feelings ; and the wise man should
particularly seek, not the pleasures of the moment, but

1 Diog. L., IT.; Sext. Enip., .-If/r. math., VII., 191-192; [Kilter
and Treller, pp. 207 ff.-, MuUacli, II., 397 If.; Wendt, De philosophia
Cyrenaica, Gottingen, 1841. — Tk.] ; II. v. Stein, De philosophia
Cyreuaica, Gottingen, 1855; [Watson, Hedonistic Theories from
Arislijipus to Spencer, New York, 1895].

2 Sext. Eini)., Adv. math., A'll., 191.
• Horace, Epistles, I., 1, 17.

72 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

lasting joys, a permanent state of moral content (%a/3a,
€v8aL/jL,ovia). Moreover, Aristippus and his adherents agree
witli tlie Sopliists that all action has for its motive the
desire to be happy, and for its end the pleasure which the
act procures. They likewise agree with Protagoras in
religion. The hedonists were outspoken freethinkers, and
helped to demolish the remnants of the polytheistic faith
among the educated classes. In a work entitled The Gods,
Theodoras of Cyrene, called the Atheist,^ openly espoused
atheism; another hedonist, Euhemerus,^ held, in a sensa-
tional treatise {lepa avajpacf)^] ^), 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 Romans, 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 tlu-ough a process of evolution which
may, at first sight, seem surprising, but which is no more
than natural ; it changes into pessimism in the philosophy
of Hegesias,* called TretaLddvaro'i (" 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 (rjSovr] iu
Kivrjaei), according to some, permanent pleasure or happi-
ness (xapct, evSaifxovLo), 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 Cyi-enaics in Mullach,
II., pp. 397 ff. ; Ritter and Preller, 207 ff . — Tr.]

2 About 310 B. c.

' Fragments preserved by Diodorus and Eusebius.
* A contemporary of Ptolemy I.

AEISTIPPUS, ANTISTHENES, EUCLIDES 73

that unalloyed happiness is a ciream. 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.i Tliis is the way in which
Hegesias reasons, and all must reason who regard pleasure,
jo}', or happiness as the only end of life (reXo?). Life has
real value only for such as recognize a higher aim, namely,
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 liighest good, is a relative good, and not
the summum homim. 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. Antisthenes.'^ — The idealistic teachings of Socrates
are reproduced and exaggerated l)y 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 ;

1 Cicero, Tusc, I., 34 : A malis mors ahducit.

2 Aliout 300 II. c. See Diog. L., II., 03 ff.
« § 10.

* Diog. L., VI.; [for A. and lii.s scliool, see also, Mullach, II.,
pp. 201 ff. ; Hitter and Preller, pp. 216 ff. ; Dueniinler, Antistheriica,
IlaUe, 1882. —Tk.]

74 GKEEK PHILOSOPHY

Virtue is the highest good. The Cynics, his successors, go
so far in their enthusiasm as to prochiim the 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, the pleasures of social life, they
came to violate the simplest rules of politeness, and, in
principle at least, rebelled against the laws themselves.
For a life of refinement and civilization these " Rousseaus of
antiquity " substitute the state of nature ; cosmopolitanism
takes the place of patriotism. The principle of individual
autonomy, which had been proclaimed by the Sophists and
by Socrates, passes from theory into practice. Not all the
Cynics, however, are radicals. We must make allowances
in the well-known history of Diogenes of Sinope,^ 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,2 the founder of the school of Megara,
made the first attempt to give the ethical system of the
master a metaphysical support, wliich he finds in the phil-
osophy of the Eleatics. He accepts the teaching of Par-
menides that being is one, and the Socratic notion concern-
ing the reality of the vov<i and of moral principles. From
these premises he boldly draws the conclusion, wliich was
again advanced by Fichte in modern times, that mind or
goodness is being, the only absolutely-existing being. All

1 [Goettling, Diogenes der Kyniker oder die Philosophie des grieschi-
schen Proletariats (Geschichtl Abhandlgn., vol. I.), Halle, 1851. — Tr.]

2 Diog. L., IT. [Ptitter and Preller, pp. 223 ff. ; Mallet, Histoire de
Ve'cole de Megare, etc., Paris, 1845. — Tr.]

PLATO 75

we know of Euclides is summed up in this sentence. But
this alone assures liim a distinguished place among the Attic
pliilosophers ; his system forms the connecting link between
Socrates and Plato. The school of Megara, which Stilpo ^
made famous, and that of Elis, which was founded by
Phtedo,2 the favorite pupil of Socrates, devoted themselves
to the development of eristic dialectics, hut 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. vSpec-
ulative Socraticism inaugurates tlie era of the philosophy
of mind, which predominates in the second period, and
in turn becomes (A) idealism, (B) materialism and eudae-
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

§ 16. Plato

Plato of Athens was born of a noble 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 which
was presented to him by generous friends and for centuries
remained in possession of the Platonic school.

1 Diog. L., TT. ; Seneca, Ep. IX.
« 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 liis 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
Republic^ 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 wi'itings
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-
7nenides, the SopJiist, the Crati/lus, and the Philehiis, 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 Phcednis, which
opposes the selfish rhetoric of the Sopliists 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 Spnposiuin, or con-
cerning the different manifestations of the eras, from sensual
love to the philosopliical love of beauty, truth, and good-
ness, as tills was personified in Socrates ; (4) the Grorc/ias,
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-i2; Ch. Schneider (Greek and Latin), Paris, 1846-56 ff . ; K. F-
Hermann, Leipsic, 1851-53 ; [Schanz, Leipsic, 1875 ff. Ritter and
Preller, pp. 233 ff.].

{The Dialofjues of Plato. Translated into English, with 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 Sclileiennacher, 3d ed., Berlin, 1855-62 ; also by II.
Miiller, 8 vols., Leipsic, 1850-66. — Ti?.] ; Plato's T-For^-s, French transl.
by V. Cousin, 8 vols., Paris, 1825-40.

For Plato and his writings, consult: [Ast, Platans Lehen und
Schriflen, Leipsic, 1816 ; K. F. Ilerinanu, Geschichle und System der
platonischen Philosophie, Heidelberg, 18:59]; 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 Saiiimlung der
platonischen Schriflen, Bonn, 1800 ; Fouilloe, La philosophie de Platan.
Exposition, histoire, et crilirpie de In thi'orie des idc'es, 2d od., Paris, 1SS8-S9 ;
[Chaignot, La vie et Ics ccrits de Platan, Paris, 1871 ; Benard, Platan.
Sa philosojthie, pre'ce'de'e d'un aperfu de sa vie et de ses e'crits, Paris, 1892;
Huit, La vie et Voeuvre de Plalon, 2 vols., Paris, 1893 ; Pater, Plato and
Platonism, Xew York and London, 1893 ; Van Oordt, Plato and his
Times, Oxford and the Hague, 1895; B. Bosanquel, A Companion to
Plato s Republic, New York, 189.5J.

78 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

world ; (7) the Thecetetus, or concerning knowledge and
Ideas ; (8) the Phcedo, or concerning the innnortality of the
soul ; (9) the Laius^ a work which seems to be a partial
retraction of the Republic. These treatises are dialogues.^
Socrates is the cliief 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 his 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 philosophy ;
indeed, the statement has been made that it is so diilicult
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 cln-ouological order of
the dialogues of Plato, consult the Introductions of Schleiermacher, the
German translator of Plato, and the investigations of Socher, Ast,
K. F. Hermann, Bonitz, Zeller, Susemihl, Suckow, Munck, Ueberweg,
[Schaarschmidt, Teichmiiller, and Siebeck ; also, Horn, Platonstudien,
Vienna, 1893. — Tr.].

2 Concerning the genesis of Platonism, see Karl Joel, Zur Erhennt-
niss der geistigen Entwickelung und der schriffstHlerischen Motive Plato's,
Berlin, 1887 (reviewed by M. Reinach in the Revue critique, Aug. 22,
1887).

PLATO 79

Ids 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 which
we experience in the Timceus and the Phccdo, of distinguish-
ing clearly between the pedagogical element and the teach-
ino- 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 Timceus, does it therefore follow that the
idea of creation is absolutely foreign to his mind ? When
he speaks of a creator and follows popular fancy in pictur-
ino- him as a human workman, does that mean that theism
is not the essential element of his thought ? The Fhcedo,
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 but a literary form, and mistake
mere figures of speech for the hidden meaning of things.
But we must also abandon the notion that Plato was too
great a man to be influenced in liis reason by the imagi-
nation. We have no right to make liim a Christian or a
mo(k'rn philosopher. It is un(h)ubt(Mlly true that Catholic
mysticism borrows extensively from Platonic theology, and
it is equally certain that Plato's dialectics contain the rudi-

» Timceus, 28 C, 29 C-D.

80 GREEK THILOSOPHY

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 perpetual 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 through an infallible inner sense.
But Socrates remained a sceptic as far as metaphysics
vas 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 Trdvra pel, 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 tliis science. Geometry is based
on a 2^rio7-i 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
pliilosophy is, like mathematics^ 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 (etS?;, ISeai), or unchano-e-
able forms, or the eternal types of fleeting thino-s, or nou-
mena (voov/xeva), the objects of true science {eTnan^ixri) as
distinguished from phenomena, the objects of sense-percep-
tion (atadrjaa) and opinion {86^a). The philosophy of Plato
is the science of Ideas. It is called dialectics after its new
method. To this science of first principles, which is the
fundamental and only science worthy of the name, is added
the iheori/ of nature {cj^vaiKi]). The latter, however, is of
secondary importance, and does not deserve the name of
science. Ethics, or the science of the liighest good, is the
last branch of dialectics and the crown of philosoph3\

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 highest good.

1. The IdeaI

"Wlien we compare the mother who gives up her life for
her child, the warrior aaIio dies in defence of his country,
and the philosopher wlio 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 t])e good. Wlien we compare a mas-
terpiece of areliitecture or of scidpture with a tragedy of
Sophocles and a beautiful human form, we discover in

' For Plato's dialectics and idoolopy, see especially the Thetxtetus
(lol ff.), the Sophut (218 ff.), the Philehus (15, 54, 58 if), Parmenides
(130 ff.), and the Rfjmhlic (especially books VI. and VII.).

82 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

these apparently different objects a common trait, — beauty,
or the Idea of the beautifuL When we compare the indi-
*viduals of a species, say the human race, we find in them
a number of qualities common to all, an identical type ;
these common characteristics, or the type whicli is repro-
duced in all, constitute man-in-himself {avTodv6p(07ro<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, they move or are at
rest, they are identical or they differ from each other.
Now, tliis heing, shared ])y all, this non-being, or movement,
or rest, or identity, or difference, is what Plato calls the
Idea of being, the Idea of movement, etc. Hence he un-
derstands by the term Ideas {eiSi], IBeat) : (1) what modern
philosophy calls laws of thouglit, morality, or taste (ISeaL) ;
(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 {yevr]) ; (3) what natural
science calls types, species, or, as Plato would say. Ideas
(etBi] proper). In short, he means by Ideas all possible
generalizations ; there are as many of them as there are
common names. Every common name designates an Idea,
as every proper name designates an individual. The
senses reveal particulars, or natural objects ; abstraction
and generalization {eTrayco'yy]) 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 {ivvorjixara). At this point
Plato shows his originality. According to sensualism, our
sense-perceptions alone represent real beings existing out-
side of us. According to Plato, general notions or concepts
also represent realities, and these realities, these objects of
our notions, which sensualism denies, he calls leleas. Ideas
are to our notions what natural objects are to our sense-

PLATO 83

perceptions : they are their objective causes. The objects
which the deceptive and vulgar organs of sense present to
us ^ve 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, how 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 mediasval 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, Antisthencs, 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 livinpf
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 o])jects and just acts, and fails to perceive beauty as
such, or justice as such, it is because he has tlie sense for
the former, wIiIIl- liis sense for Ideas or liis reason is at
fault. If this were suiricicntl}- developed, it would no
longer see tlie real reality {rh optco'; ov) in material exist-
ence, but in till; Ideas; it Wdiild lodk f(ir reality, not in
the world of sense, l)Ut in the 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 (Koyot) and the eternal objects (to, 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
(avrb TO KaXov). For the sensationalist, the beautiful, like the
good and the just, is a quality which Ave abstract in thought
(abstrahere') 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 iral 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 ; Icauty 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 'particidar tree or a 'particular floM^er,
because it endures. The Idea is what it expresses ; it is
this ahsolutely and without qualification ; all we can say of
the sensible object is that it has sometliing of what the
Idea is, tliat it 2jarta'kes of it (yLieTe;^ei), while the Idea is
undivided being.

Let us again inquire into tlie 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 Avith ugly objects ;

1 Symposium, 211ff.

PLATO 85

they are not beautiful wlien we compare them with more
beautiful things. They are fair to-day, foul to-morrow;
fair at one place, or in one relation, or in one point of view,
or to one person ; foul under different circumstances and
in the judgment of other persons. Hence ever;y'thing in the
world of phenomenal beauty is relative, fleeting, and uncer-
tain. Ideal beauty {avro to koKov) is ever-lasting; without
beginning and without end ; without diminution and v/ith-
out decay; invariable, innnutable, and absolute {ixovoeihh
ael 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
{el\iKpLve<i, d/xtKTov^ KaOapov). It is neither a mere notion
nor purely individual knowledge {ou8e rU Xo'709 ovSe rh
i7riaT)]fJLr]'), but an eternal reality.

Wliat 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 Phaedo. The
Idea of the great is great in all points of view ; it is abso-
lutely great. Hence to sum up: (1) The Ideas are real
beings; (2) the Ideas are more real than the o])jects of
sense ; (-3) the Ideas are the onli/ true realities ; the ob-
jects of sense possess a merely borrowed existence, a
reality which they receive from the Ideas. Tlie Ideas
are the eternal patterns (TrapaSeiyfiaTa) after which the
things of sense are made ; the latter are the images
(eiScoXa), the imitations, the im[)erfect copies (ofioiMixara,
fj,L/xT]a€L<; ^). The entire sensible world 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 sensi])le world is like
our interest in tlie iK)rtrait of a friend of whose living
presence we arc drpiiviMl,

* Puniicnides, \'-i2; Tiiiucus, ^H.

86 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

The world of sense is the copy of the workl 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 the 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 inci'ease
in generality and force, until we reach the top, the last, the
highest, the most powerful Idea or the Good, which com-
j)rehends, 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 highest Idea is analogous to that exist-
ing betv/een objects of sense and Ideas. The objects, as
we have said, fartahe, 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 ; they 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 visible copies. As compared to the
highest Ideas, they cease to be substances ; they become
modes of the only really ahsohite 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 higher unity. Plato liimself
emphasizes the principle of the unity and connection
of Ideas at the expense of their indiAdduality ; 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
unit}'.! The clear and transparent Ideas of the master are,
to use a figure of speech, precipitated by the scliool, and
the Lyceum consequently censures the Academy for adding
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 chstinct 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 thvine 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 {aladrird^ tottos:) ; it is sui gen-
eris, a place suitable to tlie nature of the Ideas, an ideal,
intelligible jDlace {voi]To<i totto^) ; the home of the Ideas is
mind (z^oO?), 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 by itself {avro
Kad^ avTo). A prouder challenge could not be hurled at
materialism : Space which you conceive as a condition of
reality is quite the reverse ; it is the cause of non-being
and impotence. The Idea is real because it is one and
unextended, 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 conseciuently enfeebled, impoverished, and

1 This substantialization of the Ideas is already noticeable in the
Sophist, and has been regarded by some as an argnment against tlie
genuineness of the dialogue. (See Schaarschniidt, in the work cited
above.)

2 Mpho, 81.

« Phvedrus, 2i7. •

88 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

relatively destroyed (m 6v). Compared with the Idea,
which you regard as a poor reflection of the real world,
your supposed real world is itself but 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 (/ca^' 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 Timccus,^ the Creator (6 Bi]ixLovpy6^) is spoken of as the
eternal God (cSv ael Oeo'i, 6 6e6<i) ; his immediate creatures
(the stars and the celestial spirits) are called 6eoi\ Oeol 6eo)v,
ovpdvLov deo)v yevo<i ; while the sensible universe is a god in
process of becoming {iaofjievo^ 6e6<;). Evidently, the god who
is to be 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 athiov)^
wliieh 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

* Timceus, 28, 34, 41, passiin.

PLATO 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 the 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 principle. That the
Platonic school identified God with the absolute Idea may
be readily inferred from the attributes which are ascribed
to the Good and to the Suj)reme Being. A brief compari-
son will suffice to convince us of this fact. The absolute
Idea (the Good, the 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 gotls is represented to us as
the eternal cause of the good in the world ; as the supreme
wisdom, by the side of wliich all human philosophy is im-
perfect ; as the supreme justice, law-giver, and liighest law,
who rules the beginning, the end, and the middle of tilings ;
as the pure reason which has nothing to do with matter or
witli evil.-'^ Hence, tliere cannot be the least doubt that the
God of Plato is the aljsolute Idea of the good. 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 liighest reality ; for, from Plato's point
of view, the Idea only is real.

Now the Idea docs not exist in space proper, but in the

1 Republic, YI, 508 D.

* OvK oiaias ovroi tov ayadov aX\ fVt fntKdva Trjs ovcrias npccr^da
Koi bvvdiid vnfpixovToi-

' Re/jufjiic, VI, 500 ff. ; VII, 517: TlavTibu avrfj (fj tov dya6ov 18(a)
6f)6(ou T( Koi KoXSiv aiTia . . . ovrrUi ai8ioi rfj? t uyndov (i)viTfCLii (ilrui . . . tp
T( rtjiuTd rfiCjs . . . TfKoiaa, iv t( i/o/jro) . . . dXrjdfun', khi vuvv napa<rx(>fi(vr].

90 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

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 Ave are not con-
scious of them. The senses show us their external copies,
and, to a certain extent, remind us of the originals existing
in us {avdfxvT]aL<;). Sensation pi'ovoJces Ideas ; it does not
produce them. Its function consists in recalling to our
minds the a priori Ideas which we possess without susjDect-
ing it. Moreover, the senses are deceptive ; and instead of
revealing the truth, they keep it from us. Reasoning
{v6r](n<i) is the only road to truth ; and this springs from
love {ep(o<i). 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. Tliis pure and holy desire seeks for satisfaction
in earthly emotions, in friendship and aesthetic pleasure. ^
But the human embodiments of the Idea, or the material
incorj)orations 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.

^ Strictly speaking, it is not even correct to say: it cannot come to
MS, etc. ; we should say : the knowledge of the Idea, the notio/i {\6yos:)
cannot come to us, etc. ; for the Idea exists independently of the notions
of our mind ; it is ovbe t\s \6yos ov8e ema-rfjfir] (p. 85) ; it neither
comes nor goes ; all that comes to the mind, or becomes, or is formed,
or is developed, is simply our concepts (ewo^/xara), which, like the
sensible things, are but shadowy copies of the eternal Ideas. — (Alle-
gory of the Cave, Rep. VII.)

^ PhcBdrus, 242 ft.

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 [<^L\oao(^Ca)
is peculiar to the man who is filled with light from on
high.

In spite of its mjstical character, Plato's method is
rationalistic in the strict sense of the term. There is no
contracUction 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
immecUate and a priori perception of an absolute principle,
a perception wliich we call mystical, precisely because it is
immediate and unanalyzable. Platonic idealism, like its
offshoots, the systems of Plotinus, Spinoza, and SchelUng,
begins with a mystical act and culminates in a religion.^

2. Natuee

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

* Phcedrus, 278 : To fxtv aofpuv . . . ifxoiyt y^tya dvai boKfl tcai 6t<ji
1X09(0 ■npinfi.v.

* See Ilartmann, Philosophy of the Unconscious (translated hy E. G
Thomas), the chapter entitled : On tlic Uuconscioua in Mysticism.

92 GREEK PHILOSOrHY

alone, but presupposes a second princii^le, ^A'hich 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 part 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 well
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
ability, and untiringly search for a satisfactory solution of
the problem. Plato finds the key to the answer in the con-
ception of divine goodness ; this enables his thought to
pass from the ideal to the real.^ The Idea is the absolute
good ; God is sujDreme 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 notliing
outside of it but non-being {firj 6v). But, in so far as it is
the highest reality, it is also the highest activity, the heing
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 [tocovto tl olov ro 6V), and takes part in
the absolute existence of the Idea (Koivcovia, fiede^i-i).
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 (vXr]), as Plato's successors would say. According to
Plato and idealism, matter is notliing corporeal; it is
something that may become so, through the plastic action
1 Timceus, 29 E.

PLATO 93

of tlie 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 aireipov) ; it is devoid of all positive
attributes, and cannot therefore be designated by any posi-
tive term, since every term cletermines ; it is the indefinable
(aopLarov), the formless (afiop(f}ov), 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-
Se%e9) ; it may become the mother of all sensible things
Qiv (p yiyverai ro jLyvofxevov, ra vdvra Sexofi^vr]), the uni-
versal recipient {8e^a/j.ev7]). It is identical with space and
the place filled by bodies (j(a>pa^ 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 (/x?) 6V);
(2) creation is action ; now, all action presupposes an oljject
to be acted upon, or an object which suffers action (ttci-
(Txov) ; hence the divine activity presupposes matter, and
does not create it. iMatter 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 {^aatXeia) ; the Idea con-
tinues to remain the highest being, while the eternal exists
ence of matter is equivalent to eternal non-being.

But though eternal matter docs not limit llie Idea, which
as such is absolute, it does, none {he less, limit its operation
in the universe. INIatter is both the conditic^n sine qua non
of the action of the Idea and its eternal obstruction. It
is both the indispensable auxiliary and the irreconcilable
foe of tlie creative Idea. True, it is passive, but its pas-

^ Ai'istotlf, Ph>/x., IV. 2: Aio Ktu YIXutcov tt/u vXt]u koi Trjv ^^aypav
aiiTO (Lr](Tiv (ivai (P tu Tifitiico • . • Ofian mv ti'itto:' kcu rrjv ^ojjxiv to avro
anffpfivaro. Cf. C. Ha;uinker, Das Problrm tier Mulifrie in <lcr (jriechl
schen rhilu.iophie, 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 stupitUty. It is non-being or the
perpetual negation of being, and consequently opposes and
resists everything positive, stable, and immutable, and for-
ever destroys the works of God. It is the primary cause
of the imperfection of things, 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 (uto? /lovoyevj]^,
etKoiiv Tov Oeov), the god that is to be (ia-o/jievo^ ^eo'?), the
visible god {aladrjTO's 6e6^), Avhose relative perfection re-
minds us of the Father of the Universe {7ron]T7]'i koX irarrip
TOV iravTo^)^ the living animal (^«oi^), that reproduces, as
faithfully as it can, the eternal ideal animal {^wov alhiov).
This cosmos has (1) a body (a-co/xa) governed by necessity
(avdyKi]) ; (2) a rational content, a purpose, or a meaning
(yoO?, ^a)ov evvovv), a final goal for which it was made, an
end to realize (reXo^;) ; and finally (3) a soul {■^vXHi ^"^^^
€/x'^v')(^ov)y 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 sliape of a
sphere, which is the most beautiful form imaginable,
and makes the world the most faithful image of its in-
telligil)le 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 (ayijpcov) and disease
(avoaov) ; for it comprehends all the forces of nature, and
nothing outside of it can hiu't 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 (avaXoyLo)}

Atomistic materialism rejects final causes, and therefore
opposes the' view that the world has a meaning, or that
it realizes an idea. Platonic idealism takes the vov<i of
Anaxagoras seriously, and explains the creation of the
world wholly from the teleological point of view. It
acknowledges the existence of physical causes, but it sub-
ordinates them to final causes ; the former are tlie means
or involuntary instruments of the latter. Thus, the ele-
ments, in regard to which 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 between these 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 ever^-thing 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 only
» Tim(eus, 28 H, 31 C, 31 A, 39 D, 41 A, 92 B.

96 GKEEK 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 ; water,
of icosahedrons ; air, of octahedrons ; 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 171 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 things. 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, so as not to be identi-
fied with it. Finally, the coarser appetites reside in tlie
abdomen and are separated from the noble passions by the

PLATO 97

diaphragm. In order to i subject them to the rule of reason
and the noljler passions, nature phiced in this region the
liver, a smooth, bright organ, wliich 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 tlirough 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 Avith 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 Xoyta-riKov /^epo?) is the immortal
part ; sensuality {to iin6v[xr}TLK6v\ the mortal part, because
it essentially depends on corporeal life ; will, energy, or
courage (to ^u/zoetSe'?), is the union of the two, and consti-
tutes the soul proper and its individuality. Tlie iniinor-
tality of the intelligent soul follows: (l)from its simplicity,
whicli renders all decomposition impossible ; (2) from the

1 All these data are taken from tlio Timmus. We have reproduced
them here and italicized these in order to's and for the purpos^e nf's,
simply to give the reader a classical saiii]>le of tlu! theory of final
causes in its apitlication to nature. Thoujrh 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. *

98 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

goodness of the Creator ; (3) from the fact that it is the
very principle of hfe, 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 avdfjLvr]at,<; (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 eTndvfirjTLKov 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 (eTnarrnxr}^ being impossible here, we
are reduced to faith (Trio-Tt?).^

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 Phcedo, 61-107. ' ^ Timceus, 51, 52.

PLATO 09

the Good or absolute Justice, we can resemble him only in
justice (SiKaLoavurj). 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 (ef ^eoi?), of necessity they
hover around the mortal nature and tliis earthly sphere
(rovSe rov tgttov TrepnroXel i^ avd'yK7]^). Wherefore we
ought to fly away from earth to heaven as quickly as we
can (^XPV ^pOevSe eKelae (f)evy6Lv on rd^iaTa), and to fly away
is to become like God, as far as this is possible {(f>vy7] Se
6fioLQ}at<; TO) dew Kara to Swarov). 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 belong-
ing to each of the thrSe souls. For the intelligence it con-
sists in the correctness of thought {ao(f)ia, (f)iXoao(f){a) ; for
the will, in courage (avSpia) ; for the sensibilit}', in temper-
ance {(Tco^poavvrf) . Wisdom is the justice of the mind;
courage, the justice of the heart; temperance, the justice
of tlie senses. Piety (ocnoTri^) is justice in our relation
with the Deity ; it is synonymous with justice in general.

i\Ian must be educated in order to attain justice and
thi'ough it to become like God. He can never realize this
virtue in isolation. Justice, or tlie final goal of things, is
realized only in the collective man or in the State (-TroXt?).
Plato's ideal State, like the individual, embraces three parts
or separate classes: (1) the philosophers, who constitute the
legislative and executive power, the intelligence and the
head of the State, or tlie ruling class; (2) the warriors,
who are the heart of the State, or the militant class ;
(8) tlie merchants, artisans, agriculturists, and slaves, or
the servant class, who correspond to the sensual soul,
which is restricted to the lower ])arts of the human
body. Wisdom Ijclongs to the ruling chuss ; courage to
» Theatetus, 170. « Republic, X., G13.

100 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

the niilitaiy class ; obedience to the two higher classes,
who think and fight for them, belongs to the laboring,
commercial, and serving classes. In order that the col-
lective man or the State may form a real unity or an
individual on the large scale, particular interests must be
merged in the general interest, the family must be absorbed
in the State, the individual must cease to be a proprietor.
Henceforth the children belong to the State only, which
forms one large family .^ The State is the father of the
children ; the State also educates them. Up to the age of
three, the education of the child consists solely in caring
for the body. From three to six, its moral education is
anticipated by the narration of myths. From seven to ten,
gymnastics. From eleven to thirteen, reading and writing.
From fourteen to sixteen, poetry and* music. From sixteen
to eighteen, mathematics. From eighteen to twenty, mili-
tary exercises. When the twentieth year is reached, the
State makes its first selection among the young people,
choosing such as are fitted for the military career, and
such as are qualified for the government. The latter make
a thorough study of the different sciences until they are
thirty years old. At the age of thirty, a second selection is
made. The least distinguished enter upon the secondary
positions of the administration ; the others continue the
study of dialectics for a number of years, and crown their
education with ethics. After they have been introduced
to the knowledge of the highest Good, they are capable of
assuming the most exalted duties of the State. The latter
is essentially a pedagogical institution, whose mission is to
realize Goodness Eind Justice on our earth, and will not,
therefore, tolerate art itself, except in so far as art is a

^ This arrangement might seem strange to us, did we not remem-
ber that the Greek State simply consisted of the city. Furthermore,
the communistic teachings of the Republic are not repeated in the
Laivs.

PLATO 101

means of education, and is employed in the service of the
Good.i

These deductions, wliieh are idealistic in the extreme,
bring us back to the ontology of Plato. Reality, it must be
remembered, does not, according to him, belong to sense-
objects (or phenomena), but to the Ideas or types which
these ol)jects reproduce and which are perceived (conceived)
by reason (the noumena). The phenomenon is real, only
in so far as it partakes of the ideal type of which it is a
copy. Now, the highest Idea, which is to the world of in-
visible realities what the sun is to the phenomenal uni-
verse, is the Good or absolute Goodness, the fu'st and final
cause of all being, and consequently superior and anterior
to being itself, which it creates by natural radiation.

Tills ontology may be defined as the monism of the good.
It is, undoubtedly, the sublimest and purest product of
pliilosophical genius. Others may have advanced beyond
it ; no one has ever excelled it. Kant himself, who denies
real existence to the phenomenon, making it conditional on
sensibility and the intellect, and then proclaims practical
reason as the judge of theory, and goodness as the judge
of truth, is in reality but a reproduction of Plato minus the
poetical element. Modern science is nominalistic ; never-
theless it regards realism as relatively true. The real ob-
ject of science is the general, tlie universal, or the ty[)ical
law of the particular facts. Thus, when the anthropolo-
gist occupies himself with Peter and Paul, his ol)ject is
to know what man is ; and the physicist's interest in
the apple that falls from the tree, or in tlie snow-flake
that floats in the air, or in the sinking avalanche, is occa-
sioned by the fact that tliese particular phenomena serve
t() exemplify his theory of weight. The modern scientist,

1 Hence tlie theatre is not permitteil in Plato's cominonwealth ;
for it set* before us a world in which good and evil are necessarily
intermingled. — (/^/>u/y., III., .OfH-lOj.)

102 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

like Plato, regards the phenomenon as changing, the law
as stable and therefore moi-e real than the particulars (jo
6vT(o<i 6v). The mistake does not lie in exalting the uni-
versal over the particular ; it consists in separating the
former from the latter metaphysically, and in making a
transcendent entity of the genus or type ; it does not
consist in exalting vov<; over at'o-^T/cri?, but in making
two separate and even incompatible principles of vov<; and
atadrjaL'i. In themselves, the type and the individual
which realizes it, the law and the phenomenon wdiich is
its ap[)lication, are but one and the same reality considered
from different points of view ; observation and reasoning
are merely two stages of one and the same method. A
physic, a physiology, or an anatomy that is the creation of
pure reason is inconceivable. The universal must be de-
rived from the particular, because it cannot be found any-
where else. Plato's failure to escape the illusion that the
Idea is something separate, real, and transcendent, is in part
due to the imperfect state of the philosophical terminology
of his time. If, in place of elSo? (aspect, form, type), he had
used the word w'/^o?, or law, the term with which modern
science has become so familiar, he would not easily have
fallen into the error of the separatisfic conception. But it
is not merely the terminology that misleads him ; it is the
poet in Plato that impels the philosopher to realize the
Idea. Aristotle, in a spirit of controversy, and a few sin-
cere but unintelligent disciiDles of Plato, exaggerated the
realism of the master, but the realism is there none the
less,^ and its consequences are only too aj)parent. The
Idea is real in itself, and does not need to be realized.
Then the cosmic process loses its raison d'etre ; it no longer
consists in the realization of an Idea ; it is the fall of a god.
Creation would be the overflowing of the Idea, as it were,
and the generation of being, that is, according to Plato,
1 See especially Repub., VI, 509.

PLATO 103

of spii-itual being, thought, or intelligence ; for the being
wliich comes from the Idea must "■ resemble " it as the
son resembles his mother. Beinc/, in the real and absolute
sense of the term, and being-mind (thought) are one and
the same thing, from tliis point of view. Tliis explanation
of the v.'orld, which, to tell the truth, is but a figure of
speech, would perhaps suffice, if the world were actually a
society of pure spirits, the abode of goodness, justice, and
perfection. But it is a mixture of being and non-being, of
spirituality and corporeality, of good and evil. Whence
comes this second constitutive element of the phenomenon,
this non-being f From the Idea ? Impossible. The Idea
can create nothing but being, intelligence, and goodness.
Hence, a second principle that is co-eternal with the Idea
has participated in the creation of the world ; the monism
of the good becomes a dualism of Idea and matter. By
coming in contact with the latter, the Idea, or rather in-
telligence, its offspring, is polluted, diminished, and im-
poverished. Hence, intelligence must consider matter as
its natural enemy, as the chief cause of its diminution, as
the seat and the principle of evil ; the mind will, of course,
desire to be freed, as soon as possible, from the body which
holds it in bondage, and from the visible world, which is a
prison, a place of correction. The Uto})ian system of poli-
tics, wliich sacrifices nature to an al)stract principle, asceti-
cism, monachism, the horror of matter which we find among
the Neo-Platonists, the Gnostics, and even Catliolics, all
these elements are the logical consequences of a conception
that makes the Idea a reality.

Speusippus, the successor of Plato in the Academy (347-
339), seems to see the need of combining the One (the Idea)
and the many (matter) by means of a concrete princi})le
that contains them l;otli. He lays great weight on tlie
P}'thag(uean notion of emanation, devck)})ment, and scries,
wliich forms the very essence of 2seo-I*lalonism, luid teaches,

104 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

in opposition to Plato, that perfection is to be found, not in
the original and abstract unity, but in the developed, differ-
entiated, and organized unity. ^ But his reverence for the
name of Plato, and the position which he held as the
scliolarch of the school hindered him from subjecting the
master's view to an impartial criticism.^ The same is
true of Xenocrates, Polemo, Grantor, and Crates, who
were succeeded by the sceptic Arcesilaus.^ It was left
to Aristotle, the most distinguished among the pupils
of Plato and the founder of a new school, to criticise
and reform Academic idealism from the standpoint of
concrete spiritualism.

§ 17. Aristotle

APvISTOTLE,* was born at Stagira, not far from Mount
Athos, in 385. His father, Nicomachus, the physician

* Aristotle, Met., XII, 7 : To KaWiaTov Km to apiarov fir] iv ap^rj fivat.

Cf. § 65.

2 Cicero, Acad, post., I, 9, 3i.

3 See § 21. [For the Platonic school, see Diog. L., IV, ch. 1-5;
Mullach, vol. Ill, pp. 51 ff.; Ritter and Preller, pp. 283 ff. For
further references, see Ueberweg-Heinze, I, § 44. — Tr.].

* Aristotle's Complete Works ; the Berlin edition in 5 vols. : vols.
I. and II., the Greek text (rec. Imm. Bekker, 1831) ; vol. III., a Latin
translation (1831) ; vol. IV., the principal commentaries (coll. by
Chr. Aug. Brandis, 1836) ; vol. V., fragments and commentaries (coll.
by V. Rose), Index Aristotelicus ed. H. Bonitz, 1870 ; the Didot edition,
5 vols., Paris, 1848-70; Tauchnitz edition, 1831-32, 1843; [Aristotle's
Psychology, in Greek and English, with introduction and notes, E.
Wallace, Cambridge, 1882 ; Nicomachean Ethics, transl., with an anal-
ysis and critical notes, by J. E. C. Welldon, Xew York and London,
1892 ; transl. also by Williams, Hid., 1876, Chase, ibid., 1877, Hatch,
ibid., 1879, Peters, ibid., 1881, Gillies (Sir John Lubbock's Hundred
Books), ibid., 1892; Politics, transl. by Welldon, Cambridge, 1888,
Jowett, 2 vols., Oxford, 1885-88, Ellis, with an introduction by H.
!MorIey (Sir John Lubbock's Hundred Books), London, 1802 ; On the
Constitution of Athens, transl. and annotated by F. G. Kenyon, Lon-

ARISTOTLE 105

of King Amyntas of ]MacedoD, came from a family of
physicians. The blood of experimentalists and positive
scientists flowed in his veins. In the year 367, he
entered upon liis course of study (as we should say now-
adays) at Athens, where he became lii'st a pupil and then
the successful rival of the veteran Plato. From 343 to
340, he was the teacher of Alexander, the son of Pliilip.
The friendship betw^een him and Alexander proved advan-
tageous to Aristotle, for it enabled liim to accumulate vast
collections, and contributed largely toward making him the
father of natural science. In 334 he began to teach his
pliilosophy in the walks of the Lyceum at Athens ; hence
the name applied to his school, and the epithet given to liis
disciples, — Peripatetics. After the deatli of Alexander, he
was accused of Macedonianism and atheism, and compelled
to retire to Chalcliis, in the island of Euboea, where he
died in 322.

don, 1891 ; Poetics, transl. by Wharton, Cambridge, 1883 ; Rhetoric,
transl. by Welldon, London and Xew York, 1886 ; translations of
the above and of the Metapliy^oi, Organon, and History of Animals in
the Bohn Lil)rary; editions of the Politics, -with introduction by
Kewman, 2 vols., Oxford, 1887, of tlie Ethics, by A. Grant, 2 vols.,
4th ed., London, 1884, and Bywater, Oxford, 1894; German transla-
tions of Ai-istotle in Metzler's collection, Hoffmann's Uebersetzungs-
hibliulhek, Engelmann's collection, and in Kirchmann's Philosophical
Library. — Tu.]. The Metaphysics has been translated into French
by Pierron and Zdvort, 2 vols., Paris, 1840; the Politics, Logic, Ethics,
Poetics, and Meteorology, by Barthelemy Saint-IIilaire, Paris, 1837-62.
[For the philosophy of Aristotle, see Biese, Die Philosophic cles Aris-
toteles,2 vols., Berlin, 18:35-42 ; A. Posmini-Serbati, 'Arislotele esposto
ed esaminato, Turin, 1858; Bonitz, Aristolelische Studien, I.-V., Vienna
1«(;2-6G; I-K3\ves, Aristotle,. Loudon, 1864; Grote, Aristotle, ed. by A.
Bain and G. C. Robertson, 2 vols, (incomplete), London, 1872, 3d ed.,
1884; E. Wallace, Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle, Oxford, 1875,
3d ed., 188:5; A. Grant, Aristotle (in Ancient Classics for English
Rf'(idirs), Edinburgii and London, 1878; David.son, Aristotle and An-
cient Ednrational Ideals, New York, 1892; Kappes, Aristolclcs-Lcxikon,
Paderborn, 1894. — Tit.]

106 GREEK PHlLOSOrHY

The writings attributed to Aristotle deal with almost all
the sciences known to antiquity, that is, according to the
philosopher's own classification,^ with the theoretical sci-
ences, which have truth for their oliject (mathematics,
physics, and theology, or the fii-st philosophy), with the
practical sciences, which treat of the useful (ethics, politics,
etc.), and with the j^oetical sciences, whose object is the
beautiful. The Categories, the Be interjyretatione, the two
Analytics, the Topics, etc., which have been collected under
the name Organon, make Aristotle the real founder of logic.
True, he was not the first to conceive all the principles
of logic ; the discussions of the Eleatics, the Sophists, and
the Socratics, have shown us how reason gradually be-
came conscious of. the processes winch it originally em-
ployed instinctively ; thus the elementary axioms, such
as the principle of contradiction, the principle of sufficient
reason, the imncipium e.rclusi tertii, the dictum de oiiini et
nullo, and without doubt also the more special rules of the
syllogism came to be formulated. But it required the
genius of an Aristotle to co-ordinate these elements, to
complete them, and to formulate them into the system of
deductive logic, wliich constitutes his chief claim to fame.^
The physical and natural sciences are ably set forth in the
Physics, the De coslo, the De generatione et corruptione, the
Meteorology, the De anima, the Parva naturalia, the His-
tory of Animals, the treatises On the Parts of Animals,
On the Progression of Animals, On the Generation of
Animals, etc. The problems of philosophy proper are
discussed in a number of writings on first principles,
which a hiacncevaari^'i collected into a single work com-

^ Metaphysics, VI., 1, 9.

^ For Aristotle's logic, see Trendelenburg, Elementa logices Aristote-
lece, Berlin, 183G ; 8th ed., 1878. lEiiduterungen, 3d ed., Berlin, 1876 ;
Prantl, Geschlchte de?- Logik, vol. I. ; Eucken, Die Methode der aristote-
lischen Forschung, Berlin, 1872. — Tu.]

ARISTOTLE 107

prising fourteen books, and placed after the writings on
2)Jii/sics (^fxera ra ^vaLKo) : hence the name metaphysics^
wliich has since been applied to pliilosophy proper, a term
with which Aristotle liimself was not acquainted. Ethics
and politics are treated in the Nicomacheaii Elhics,, in the
Magna moralia, in the Eudemean Ethics, in the eight books
of the Politics. Rhetoric and poetry are discussed in the
books known by those titles. Taken altogether, the
works of Aristotle constitute a veritable encyclopedia
of the knowledge possessed by the fourth century before
Chi'ist.i

Philosophy is defined by Aristotle as the science of uni-
versals (^ kuOoXou iina-T'qiJLr]). Every real science is, or at
least aims to be, a view of the whole, a general theoiy ;
hence the special sciences are partial i^hilosoiyhics {c^lKo-
ao(f>iai), as well as general theories concerning one or more
groups of given facts, theories which are summarized and
systematized by general philosophy. Conversely, philo-
sophy proper or the fii'st science {Trpcorr] cf)L\ocro(j)ia) 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, 18G5, and Fragmenta ArUtotelis, collegit ]En\. Ileitz,
Paris, 1809. One, whose loss was much to be deplored, the treatise
On the Constitution of Athens, lias 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 sjiurious
commentaries. Some, like the Caterjories, the De tnterprelntione, the
treatise De Melisso, Xenophane et Gorgia, the Eudemean Ethics, etc.,
are doubtful. Others, at bust, like the De motu auimnlium, the (f)v(rio-
yvufjUKtl. the (J'Jconoinics, tlie Rhetoric to Alexander, etc., are certainly
bpurious.

108 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

everything that exists (?; tmv Trpoircov apx^v kuI uItlcov
decoprjTiKr])}

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 tln-ough
him of the knowledge of the absolute ; man alone is en-
dowed with speech. By means of language, we designate
{KaTTjyopov/xev) 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 Avhich 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
(icaT'q'yoptai. rov 6vto<;) ; that is, the things are in reality
either substances or quantities or relations, etc., and are
not merely conceived as such.^

1. First Philosophy ^

The mathematical and physical sciences treat of the
■ quantity, quality, and relations of things ; the first philo-

1 Met. I., 2, 14. Cf. L, 8 ; L, 10.

2 Met. v., 7 ; VI., 4.

3 For the Metaphysics, consult [Schwegler, Die Metaphi/sik des Ari-
stoleles (text, translation, and commentary), 4 vols., Leipsic, 1847-49] ;
II. Bonitz, In Arisiotelis Metuphysica, 2 vols., Berlin, 1848-49; C. L.
Michelet, Examen critique de Vouvrage d'Aristote intitule' Metaphysiqiie,
Paris, 1836 ; Vacherot, Theorie des premiers principes suivant Aristute,
Paris, 1837 ; Felix Ravaisson, Essai sur la metaphysique d^Arislote, Paris,
1837 ; Jacques, Aristoie considere' comme hislorien de la philosophie, Paris,
1837; Jules Simon, Etudes sur la thcodicee de Platon et d'Aristote, Pa-
ris, 1840 ; [Glaser, Die MetapJiysik des Aristoteles, Berlin, 1841 ; Bar-
thelemy Saint-Hilaire, De la metaphysique, etc., Paris, 1879 ; Bullinger,
Aristoteles' Metaphysik, Munich, 1892, — Tk.].

ARISTOTLE 109

soph}- lias as its object the queen of tlie categories, the
category of substance {ovaCa), to which all the rest are re-
lated and on which they are based. It inquires into the
nature of being as such, regardless of all relations of time,
place, etc. {to ti rjv elvai), that is, absolute and necessary
being, the eternal essence of things as opposed to the rela-
tive, contingent, and accidental.^

Hence Plato is light in regarding it as the science o^^
real being (ro 6vt(o<; qv), as distinguished from that which
appears to he, and is in reality but a passing relation. He
errs in conceiving the Ideas as real beings existing apart
from the individuals which express them (IBeai ')(Q3pi(jTaL).
In vain do we search in Plato's writings for the proof
that Ideas subsist apart from tilings. Moreover, it is
hard to see what this theory accomplishes. It does not
solve the metaphysical problem, but merely complicates it
by adding to the real world a world of useless homonyms.
The separate Ideas do not, in fact, contribute either towards
the production, or the preservation, or the science of things
(et? yvcoaiv). We are at a loss to know what is the rela-
tion lietween things and Ideas (rpoiro^ /cad^ ov rdXXa ck
Twv eihoiv eariv). The assertion that the Ideas are pat-
terns and that the things participate in them is to speak
vain words, and to utter poetic metaphors {ro he Xe'yeiv
TrapaSeiyfiara elvai kuI fi€T€)(^€iv avroiv raWa KevoXoyeiv
iarl Kal fxeTa^opa'i Xeyeiv 7roL7]TiKd'i). Besides, if tlie gen-
eral Idea is the substance of the particulars or the essence
of the things, how can it exist apart from that of whicli it
is the substance and the essence (x^pt? t7]v ovaiav Kal ov 77
ovaia)? The general cannot exist outside of and along-
side of the particular {to kuOoXov p-ij eari tl irapa tcl Kad^
eKucTTa). Hence the Ideas or spccilic types, cf)nsi(leied as
siicli and aijart fi'om the tilings, are not real beings or sul)-
btances {ovaiai), if we understand l)y ovaia that wliich exists
1 Mei.\\.,\; XL, 4, 7.

110 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

by itself. 1 Aristotle does not, however, deny the objective
existence of species. For him as well as for Plato, the
general Idea is the essence of the i:)articular, and may
be called ovaia^ in so far as this word signifies essence.
What he denies is that Ideas exist apart from things
{')(a)p(,<i). The Idea is inherent or immanent in the thing ;
it is its form^ and cannot be separated from it except by
abstraction. It is the essence of the particular and with
it constitutes an indivisible whole. For the ev Trapa ra
iroWd we must substitute the ev Kara tcov ttoWmv or
iv Tol'i TToXXot?.^

On the other hand, the materialistic theory is equally
untenable. JNlatter has no reality apart from the form
(eZSo?, /jLop^T], that is, not only the shape, length, breadth,
and height of the thing, but all of its properties). Mattel"
without the Idea is as much of an abstraction as the Idea
apart from the particular object which realizes it. Nor does
movement exist by itself ; it presupposes a substratum.
Hence, neither the Idea nor matter nor movement has real
or substantial existence ; reality consists of all these taken
as a whole (a-vvoXov), or of the particular (ro'Se tl). Reality
is a concrete thing {iilktov) ; it contains constitutive ele-
ments, which thought distinguishes, but which do not exist
apart from each other. The most important (KvpLoiTepov) of
these elements is the Idea or the form, whicli Aristotle con-
ceives as identical with essence or soul. Matter is merely
its support, but it is an indispensable support.

The next question is, What are the generative causes of
real being ? All tilings which are produced either by nature
or art have a material cause (vXrj, vTroKei/xevov), a formal
cause (to elSo?, ro tl ian, to tL r]V elvai), an efficient or
moving cause (ap^V '^V'^ jeveaecoi;, ap-)(r} tt]^ KLVi^aeco';, to odev
rj Kivrjcn^i to odev r/ ap')(r) t>}9 KLVqaew'i, to aiTLOV Tr]<i fxeTU'

1 Met, I., 9, 15, 16; V., 8, U; XIL, 10, 22; XIV., 3, 12, 4, 9.

2 Met, III., 4, 1 ; Analyt. post., I., 11.

ARISTOTLE 111

yi9oX^9, TO KLvovv^ TO KLvqTLKov), and a final cause {to ov eveKa,
TO TeXa, Tctjadov).^ Tims, to take an example from art. A
bed or a statue presupposes (1) matter : the wood or the
marble or the brass of which the thing is made ; (2) an
Idea (a plan or a pattern) according to which it is made ;
the idea of the statue exists in the mind of the sculptor,
the idea of the bed, in the mind of the joiner ; (3) arms,
hands, and tools, as motive forces and efficient causes j
(4) a purpose or motive that sets these forces in action,
and effects the transition from capacity or potentiality
(SvvajjLi^) to actuality (ivepyeLa). The same is true of
nature and particulaily of organic nature. A living
organism, as, for example, a man, is the product of the
following four causes : (1) the substance wliich forms the
starting-point and substratum of the embryonic develop-
ment ; (2) the Idea or specific tj'pe according to which the
embryo is developed, the form which it tends to assume ;
(3) the act of generation ; (4) the (unconscious) j^urpose of
this act, namely, the production of a new man. There are,
then, for every fact and for the universal fact itself (the
world), four kinds of causes : matter. Idea, force, and the
final purpose. Through the cooperation of these four prin-
ciples, the real being, be it an object of art or a living
being, is produced. These principles, moreover, do not
subsist as substances ; the}^ always inhere in a particular
thing : every natural product is preceded by an individual
of tlie same species, from which it is generated. Similarly,
every phenomenon in art and ethics presupposes an actual
cause. Each man is educated Ijy another educated man ;
the efficient cause is always a concrete being, and that
wliich exists potentially becomes actual, only through the
instrumentality of some actual thing.

Though philo8oi>hieal reflection distinguishes four gener-
ative principles of tilings, three of thorn, the Idea, the

» Met. I, :i. Cf. Vil., 7. IT.

112 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

motive cause, and the final cause, are very often identified,
and constitute but a single principle (e/a^erai 8e to, rpia ek
TO ev TToXXaKt^). Thus, in art, the Idea of Hermes in the
imagination of the sculptor, moves his nerves and muscles,
and at the same time constitutes the end which he aims
to realize by means of matter. Take an illustration from
nature. A man is to be produced. 3Ian is the Idea which
is realized by generation ; a man realizes it, and he realizes
it in order to reproduce man (^rb fiev yap tl ian koI to ov
eveKa ev ecrri, to 8' o6ev t) KivriaL^ tm etSei tuvto tovtol<; ^).
In both cases the Idea is the formal cause, the motive
c^use, and the final cause.

There are then, ultimately, only two principles of things,
— the Idea or for7n which causes them and at which they
aim, and the matter of which they are made: elSo? and
vXi]. The former is essential and the cause proper; the
latter is of secondary importance and a mere condition
(avvaiTLov). Since these two principles are the necessary
antecedents of all becoming, they cannot have been pro-
duced themseWes ; for in that case they would have had to
exist even 'prior to being, which is impossible. They neces-
sarily precede all generation, since generation is possible
only through them.^ Both Aristotle and Plato regard mat-
ter and form as eternal ; only, the Stagirite does not con-
ceive the eternity of matter to mean absolute dualism. If
matter and Idea are diametrically opposed to each other, as
they seem to be in Plato, how can they ever be united, how
can they co-operate and produce all things ? Tilings that
are diametrically opposed cannot be united {airaOi) fyap tcl
kvavTia {nr aA,Xr;X&)V •'^).

Plato's yu.77 ov^ that is to say, non-being or absolute priva-
tion {aT€priaL<i)^ and real matter are two entirely different
things. Matter is accidental non-being (kuto, (TV/ji^e/3i]K6<;),
whereas privation is non-being as such. The conception of

1 Phys., II., 7. 2 Id., I., 10, 8. 8 3Iet., XII., 10, 7.

ARISTOTLE 113

matter is one tliat is closely akin to the notion of sub-
stance ; in certain respects matter is substance itself, while
privation is nothing of the kind.^ It is not the firj 6v or
non-being, but the ^jli] tto) 6v or potential being (SwdfieL 6V),
the possibility or capacity of being, the germ and the be-
ginning of becoming. Concrete being, or the particular,
represents the development of this germ, the realization of
tliis possibility, the potential actualized (ivepyeia). Matter
is the germ of the form, the potential form ; the form, in turn,
or rather the union of form and matter, which constitutes
the particular thing, is matter in actuality. ^ Thus, in the
teclmical field, wood, the matter of which the table is made,
is a potential table ; the finished table is the same wood in
energy. Brass is a potential statue ; the statue is the
actualization of the brass. In nature, the egg is a bird in
capacity ; the bird is its ivepyeta. Matter is the beginning
of all things ; the Idea (shape or form) is the goal for
which it strives ; matter is the rudimentary or imperfect
state ; the form is the perfection or completion (ivreXey^eia).
If v\r] were synonymous with arepj]aL<;^ matter could not
become anything, it could not be united with a form or
assume those definite outlines which define the real being ;
for from nothing nothing can come. Instead of struggling
against the form, it strives after it, it desires it (opeyerai %
as the female desires the male.* Matter and Idea or form
are, therefore, correlative notions ; instead of excluding
each other, they presuppose and supplement each other ;
motion or evolution (Kivrja-i';, jxera^oXr] ) is the term which
mediates between them ; motion is the transition or trans-

1 Php., X., 10, 4.

2 3/e/.,VIII., 6, 19.

» It is identical with Leibniz's conception of effort (§ 56), and
Scliopenliaucr's u-ilt or will to be (^ Gl). Aristotle iiiniself uses the
expression ^ovXtadm, in sjjeaking of nature (I'olit., I., L', 'J, 14j.

* Phyx., I., 10, 7.

114 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

formation of the former into the latter. Hence the impor-
tance ascribed by Aristotle to the idea of movement ; ^ it
enables him, in a certain measure, to escape the dualism of
Plato, which the latter himself had attempted to avoid by
means of the conception of number or ylrv^i]. His entire
system is founded on the trinity of Svvafxa, Kivr)aL<i, and
ivepjeta.^ If matter is to form what capacity is to energy,
the germ to the finished organism, then the 02:)position
between the two principles is far from absolute, and all
things are both potentiality and actuality, matter and form.
Brass is form or energy in relation to the raw mineral,
matter or potentiality in relation to the statue. The tree
of which a bed is made is form, shape, or actuality in rela-
tion to the seed from which it grew, formless matter in
relation to the bed. The youth is form (ivepyeia iarl) in
relation to the infant, formless matter in relation to the
grown man.

The rule that every being is both form and substratum,
idea and matter, soul and body, admits of but a single ex-
ception : the Supreme Being is pure form and without mat-
ter. According to Aristotle, matter invariably forms the
starting-point for a process of develojjment ; it is the ante-
cedent of a higher perfection. Now the Supreme Being is
absolute perfection ; hence he contains no matter for a more
exalted being; in short, he is immaterial. Aristotle here
seems to contradict the nominalistic theory, on which his
polemic against the separate Ideas of Plato is based, and,
above all, refutes his own statement that everything is
material {airavra v\r] eari^). But this difficulty jjartly

1 Id., III., 1 if.

2 Met., XII., 5, 6 ; 10, 21. Cf. XII., 2, 10 : Tp'ia 8r) rh mna Km rpe'is
ai dpxai, k. t. X. The difference in the names (aTeprjon, vXt], popcprj)
i.s not fundamental ; for Aristotle has in mind, on the one hand, the
three phases of being (elvai), on the other, the three constitutive prin-
ciples of existence (ov).

8 Met., XII., 3, 8.

ARISTOTLE 115

disappears wlien we take into consideration his definition
of the word matter. He means by it matter that has not
yet been formed, the provisional as opposed to the final ; it
denotes imperfection, capacity, undeveloped germ. If this
is what is meant by matter, then, evidently, every being- in
the universal scale of beings is idea or perfection, as coiu-
pared -to the lower stages, and matter or imperfection, as
compared to higher beings ; and the Supreme Being — but
the Supreme Being only — is pure idea, pure form, or pure
actuality. Aristotle also declares that the last matter (mat-
ter in the final stage of development) and the form are the
same (?; iax<iTr] vXrj koL rj /jLop(f)ij ravTo ^). Hence we may
conclude that he would not, perhaps, have objected to call-
ing the Supreme Being icrxart] vXtj or the final stage of
the universal evolution, though he would have denied that
this higher phase of existence is in part material. But
he does not accept the pantheistic conception of an abso-
lute that develops, and is matter before being form, poten-
tiality he/ore being energy .^ If the Supreme Being had first
existed in germ and as potentiality, then it would have
been necessary for an actual being to exist antecedent
to God in order to energize tliis germ and to make God
actual ; for not only does all seed come from a pre-existent
actual being, but no capacity ever becomes actual wdthout
the cooperation of an actual being. Not capacity but
energy, not the potential but the actual, not the imper-
fect but the perfect, is the first principle anterior and
superior to everything else.-'' T1iis favorite conception of
Aristotle really agrees with the Kleatic doctrine : ex nihilo
nihil ; its logical conseq\ience is the negation of the chaos
as the original form of existence, if we may apply tlie term
"form" to the formless as sucli, or to the complete absence

J hi., Vlir., G, If). Cf. Vir., 10, -27 ; XIL, 3, 8; 10, 8.
"- hi, XI r., 7, l!)-2(). Cf. Plnj^ , II., 0, G.
» Ibid.

116 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

of all order. Since form or absolute energy and matter
are both eternal, it follows that matter has never been
without form, and that there never was a state of chaos.^

The eternal actual Being is both the motive or generat-
ing cause, the form, and the final goal of things.

It is the first mover and itself immovable {irpcoTov klvovv
ov KiVQv^evov). The existence of this first mover is the
necessary consequence of the principle of causality. Every
movement implies, in addition to the thing moved, a moving
principle, which, again, receives its motion from a higher
motive force. Now, since there can be no infinite series of
causes, we are obliged to stop at a first mover. To deny
this and at the same time to assume the reality of motion,
to assume with Leucij^pus, Democritu's, and others, an in-
finite series of effects and causes without a first cause, is
to violate one of the most fundamental laws of thought.
Moreover, the first cause acts forever, and the ensuing
motion is likewise eternal. The universe has neither a
beginning nor an end in time, although it has its limits
in space.

Here a difficulty {airopia) arises : How can that which
is immovable and remains so, move ? How can the mo-
tive cause act without setting itself in motion ? It must
be assumed that God acts as the beautiful and the desirable
act. Thus, a master-piece of art or nature moves and
attracts us, and yet remains completely at rest itself.
Similarly, the ideal which I strive to realize, or the goal
at which I aim, sets me in motion without moving itself.
So, too, matter is moved by the eternal Idea {to ri rjv elvai
TO TrpcoTov) without the slightest movement on the part of
the absolute being. It has a desire for God (opeyeTai), but
God is the first cause of this desire.^

Inasmuch as the Supreme Being is immaterial, it can
have no impressions, nor sensations, nor appetites, nor a will
1 Met. XII., 6, 15. 2 j,j^^ XII., 7, 3.

ARISTOTLE 117

in the sense of desire, nor feelings in the sense of passions ;
all these tilings depend on matter, the passive or female
principle, the recipient of the form. God is j^ure intelli-
gence. The human understanding {vov<i iradrjTLKO'i) passes
from a potential state through the stages of sensation, per-
ception, and comparison. The divine vov<i has an imme-
diate intuitive knowledge of the intelligiljle essence of
things. Our discursive thought pursues an ol)ject whicli
is different from it and which cannot be attained cxcej)t by
gradual stages, wlule the absolute thought is identical with
its object. Since nothing is higher than God, and since the
thought of God has the highest possible object, God is the
object of his own thought (voT]aeQ}<i voija-a). God's life is
free from all pain and imperfection, and therefore beyond
desire and regret (aTraOi]^) ; it is supremely happy ; hu-
man life with its emotions is but a feeble image of it.
God enjoys what Ijut few favored mortals enjoy, and then
only for a limited period of time ; his life consists in the
pure contemplation of the intelligible truth, in Oecopia
[Siwycoyy] S' icrrlv oia rj apiart] fiLKpbv "^pouov rj/xlp i).

As the iinal cause of the universe and the highest good
(to ayadov koI to apiarov)^ God is both in the things or
tlieir immanent essence {rd^L<i) and ahuve the things, apart
from the world, or transcendent (/ce^ajptcr/xeVoi^ tl koX avrb
Kad' avTo). Discii)line exists both in an army and outside
of it in the mind of the general. Similarly, God is both
the law and the law-giver, the order and the orderer of
tliinos .2 Everything is organized, ordered, and harmonized
])y liim and witli a view to iiim ; and since he is one (mat-
ter alone is iiiiiiiifold ■'), tlicre can be but one single, eternal
universe. Conversely, the unity which prevails in the
world proves tlie unity of God. Ovk a^yaOhv iroXvKotpaviiy

€i9 KOipaVO<i tCTTO).^

» Afet., XII, 7, 11. 2 /,/., XIT., 10, 1, 2. ' Id., YIU., G, 21.
* Id., XII., 10, 2:3 ((iuotatiou I'rom lloincr).

118 GREEK THILOSOPHY

On this principle of principles depend the heavens and
nature.^

2. Second Philosophy, or the Philosophy of Nature

According to Aristotle, the sky is the perfect sphere of
which the earth is supposed to be the centre ; nature is
everything within this sphere that is subject to motion or
to rest ; or, more abstractly, it is motion itself, in no far as
the latter emanates from the first mover and is continued
by the secondary causes. Physics is a tlieory of motion.^
It inquires into the immovable principle (the divine), the
imperishable moving power (the heaven), and the perish-
able world or sublunary nature.^ There are as many kinds
of movement as there are categories of being.* The prin-
ciDal ones are : (1) movement that affects the substance, or
origin and decay {jepeaL^; koI cf)dopd) ; (2) movement that
affects the quality, or change of quality, alteration {Klvr^aa
KUT ctWoicoaLv, fieralSoXr]) ; (3) movement that affects the
quantity, or addition and subtraction {kivi^o-l^ kut av^i^cnv
Kol (^Oiaiv) ; (4) local movement, or change of place ((f)opd,
Kivi]aL<i Kara top tottov ^). The first (origin and decay), how-
ever, is not, strictly speaking, a movement, while, of the
other three, change of place is regarded l\y all the physi-
cists, and especially by Anaxagoras, as the most important,
the most universal, and the most original form of motion.^
Motion, change, energy, or cntelechy^ is the realization of
the potential as such.' But it is not a substance (ovcria),
and does not exist apart from the things which it affects
(jrapa ra TrpdyfjLara).

1 Met., XII., 7, 11 : 'Ek Touwrrj^ I'lpa apxn^ rjpTrjTai 6 ovpavh'S K.a\ rj

2 Phis., ni., 1, 1. » Id; II., 7. * Id., III., 1, 2.
6 Id., III., 1, 7. « Id., VIIT., 10.

' Id., III., 1, 7: *H Tov dvvafjifi ovTos eWeXe^j^rta.

ARISTOTLE 119

Space (%w/3a, r67ro<i) is more like a substance. It is,
however, ueitlier the material of wliich bodies are made,
as Plato erroneously supposes in the Timmus.} nor their
form, nor the interval which separates them {8idaTi]fj,a),
but the limit between the surrounding and the surrounded
body,2 between the contents and the container. Tliis sin-
gular definition is intended by Aristotle as a disavowal of
the conception that there is such a tiling as empty space
separating boches fi'om each other (the k€v6v of Democritus),
a view which he regarded as erroneous. Movement, ac-
cording to him, does not imply the existence of the void ;
it is invariably a change of place of cUfferent bodies. The
condensation of a body presupposes the rarefaction of the
surrounding body, and vice versa. Consequently, there is
no void either in the bodies or outside of them.^ Since
space cannot be conceived without movement, the im-
moval)le (the divine) is not in space. Moreover, inasmuch
as space is the boundary between the container and the
contained, and since the universal is not contained in any-
tliing, but contains everything, the universe or the All
cannot occupy a particular place. Hence the universe,
or the whole of things, does not, strictly speaking, move.
Its parts alone suffer a change of place. Taken as a
whole, however, it can only revolve upon itself. Indeed,
certain portions f)f the heavens move, not upwards and
downwards, l)ut in a circle, and only the denser or lighter
substances are carried downwards and upwards.^

Like space, time exists only as the condilion of motion ;
it is the measure or number of motion. It is potentially
infmite like motion (whatever Plato may say of it), and
this distinguishes it from s])a(^e which is limited. It is
nonsense to speak of an actually intinite space. Inhnit)

1 I>l,;,s., I \'., 1 .

- f/f., IN'., <) : To ntixii nw TitjntxnvTi)^ tToJuaToa.

' lU., IV., 8. * M, IV., 7, 5.

120 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

is merely potential and never actual ; for the actual has
form ; it is determined or finite ; the potential is not finite,
but infinite. Conversely, infinity has potential existence
only in the infinite multiplication of numbers and the in-
finite divisibility of magnitudes. Now, time is the measure
of motion and consequently a numljer, and number pre-
supposes a person who can count. Hence it follows that
time presupposes a soul and cannot exist except for a
numbering soul.^

We distinguished between several kinds of movement,
the most important of which is called change of place.
The latter, again, has different forms. The fii'st and the
most perfect of these is movement in a circle, which is
the only motion that can be endless, simple, and uniform.
Rectilinear motion cannot be constant, and is therefore
less perfect than the other. It cannot be continued ad
infinitum, because Aristotle's universe is limited ; hence,
in order to continue, it must return upon itself or become
oscillatory ; and there is bound to be a stop, however mini-
mal it may be, at the point where the movement begins
again to go in the oj^posite direction.

Circular movement and rectilinear movement upward
and downward are the two great forms of Kivricn^ in the
physical world. The former, which is the most ]3erfect,
because it is simple and continuous, belongs to the highest
heavens (tt/ocoto? oupavo^), the solid vault which supports
the fixed stars ; ^ the latter, wliich is less perfect because

1 PJnjs., IV., 20, 4.

2 The modern theory of heavenly bodies moving in space, a view
which prevailed among the lonians and the Pythagoreans, seems to
be wholly foreign to Aristotle. When he speaks of the heaven and
its motion, he does not mean, by metonymy, the motion of the stars
enclosed in this space ; his idea is that the heaven itself, that is, the
entire series of concentric spheres, which consist of the same sub-
stance as their stars, moves. lie also likens the motion of the stars to
the movement of a person seated in a chariot ; the person is immov-
able and yet advances as the chariot advances.

ARISTOTLE 121

it is not absolutely continuous, moves the lower or central
parts of the universe. The eternal revolution of the outer-
most heavens around the axis of the world is immediately
caused by the immovable first mover, who moves the other
parts of the world only indirectly and by means of the
7r/3WTo<f ovpavof;. Hence, the sphere of the fixed stars is
in the rrpoorov klvovv Kivov/jLevov, the first moved mover, and
communicates its motion to the lower or planetary spheres
(Sevrepo^ oupav6<;). These solid but transparent spheres, of
which there are about fifty, revolve around a common cen-
tre, the centre of the earth, wliich is also the centre of the
world. But their movement is no longer a simple move-
ment ; they rotate from left to right, like the outermost
heaven, but they also move from right to left. This com-
plicated movement can only be explained on the assump-
tion that each sphere has, in addition to the fu'st moved
mover, a particular, relatively-independent mover. Finally,
the central sphere, that is, the earth and its iidiabitants, its
ocean, and its two atmospheres, is placed under the direct
guidance of the XDlanets and under the indirect influence of
the fixed stars. It does not revolve around its own axis,
but executes complex movements, the fundamental form
of which is upward and downward movement.

Tliins'S that move downwards from the universal circum-
ference to the universal centre are called heavy; things
that move ujjwards from the earth towards the sky are
called liglit. Tlie opposition between heavy and light is
the same as that between cold and warm ; for experience
shows tliat cold air falls and warm air rises. On this
douljle opposition depends the differentiation of elements.
Heavy and cold matter forms the earthy or solid element;
lifdit and warm matter produces fire. Water and air, that
is, moisture and diyness, form two intermediate elements,
whose purpose is to reconcile tlie contrary extremes.
Altliough Aristotle thus assumes the four aroixda of

122 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Empedocles, he maintains with Heraclitus and Democritus
that these elements are homogeneous, and that they rep-
resent successive transformations of one and the same
matter. In fact, experience sliows liim tliat solids pass
into liquids, liquids into gases, gases into fu-e, and vice
ve7'sa, that fire and gases are liquefied, and liquids solidi-
fied. Hence, he identifies the chemical notion of element
with the physical notion of state.

The chfference existing between the elements of sub-
lunary matter depends essentially on the nature of the
movement peculiar to the earth, and does not extend
beyond our world. It is not found in the celestial spheres,
which consist of pure ether. Tliis ether is not a fifth ele-
ment Qrreinnov aroLxeiov^, as has been erroneously believed,
but the original and neutral substance which Anaximander
called the direLpov, and which is the substratum common to
the four elements of the terrestrial sphere. There can be
no dense liquid, gaseous, or fiery elements in the heavens,
because there is no contrast between heavy and liglit, cold
and warm, in that region ; and this contrast does not exist
in the heavenly spheres, because rectilinear and vertical
motion is unknown there.

Removed as they are from the contrasts of our perishable
world, and coming into direct communion with the first
mover, who dwells in the outermost heaven,^ the bright
inhabitants of the sides enjoy happiness unalloyed, and are
endowed with immortality. They of all beings most re-
semble the unmoved first mover. Their movements are
not arbitrary ; what seems to be an imperfection is in reality
a divine prerogative. Even the free man is much more
determined in his actions than the slave and the animal ;
for he obeys the established laws of tlie State, while they
contribute but little to public affairs, and habitually act by
chance.2 The more reason a being possesses, the more reg-
1 Phys., Vm., 14, 24. 2 Met., XII., 10, 4.

ARISTOTLE 123

ular are its acts, and the less arbitrary is its behavior.
Moreover, the more immovable the secondary gods are, the
more they resemble liim in whom there is neither move-
ment nor change of any kind. As immovable beings, any
numljer of them can exist in one and the same sphere. The
planets, which are inferior in dignity to the fixed stars, are
likewise immortal and nncreated beings endowed with life
and activity.^ The movers of the planets impart to their
respective spheres movements that are opposed to the
divine and perfect movement of the TrpoJro'i ovpavos^ thereby
declaring their independence of the Deity and their hostility
towards the universal order. We have here the beginning
of evil, but so small a beginning that the life of Mercury,
Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the Sun and the IMoon,^
is, as compared with the life of the earth, a divine, perfect,
and happy existence.

The operation of the four elements, and the perpetual
change of bodies resulting from it (the iravra pel of Hera-
clitus), are confined to the terrestrial and sublunary sphere.
Tills is the sphere of becoming, l)irth, and death, and — in
so far as ^vai<i signifies production, generation, or becom-
ing — the stage of nature proper as distinguished from the
sky, which is the abode of the strpernatural., tliat is, of the
unchangeable and everlasting.^ 'Jlie opposition between
earth and heaven, evddoe and e'/cet, the Here and tlie Beyond,
the natural and the supernatural, has not, it is true, the
same meaning and import in Aristotle as in Catholicism ;
still it is certain that this dualism adds to liis cosmology a
tinge of Platonic mysticism that contrasts with his onto-
logical principles. It was this (bialistic conception of an
eaitli placed in the centre of the world and a God placed
at the periphery, as far from the earth as possible, that

1 De ccelo, 2U2.

* !)(>tli Kuri ami moon an; considered as ])lanel9.

» Met., XI., G, 12.

124 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

caused the Church to adopt the Aristotelian system, and
led to its being forced upon the minds of men as revealed
truth, even after the great majority of scientists had taken
sides with Copernicus.

Aristotle's meteorology is more independent than liis
astronomical theories, which are based on the preconcep-
tions of his age. The terrestrial atmosphere comprises two
regions (tottol), one of which is moist and cold, and sur-
rounds the earth and the ocean ; while the other is formed
of an element that is lighter and warmer than air, called
TTvp by Heraclitus, and extends to the vault of the
heavens. 1 In the liighest atmosphere are situated the
comets and the milky-way (!). The lower atmosphere pro-
duces winds, storms, rainbows, and other meteors, which
are explained, in the same way as earthquakes and tides,
by the reciprocal action between the upper and lower
atmospheric strata and the waters of the earth. Aristotle's
theory, or at least his explanation of aerial and ocean cur-
rents, contains, as we see, a shadow of the truth. But it
is in the sjjhere of natural science proper that his genius
bursts forth in all its grandeur.

The organic world is the real domain of fmal causes.
Here, more than anywhere else, nature reveals herself as
an artist of infinite capacity, universally choosing the sim-
plest and the best means of arriving at her goal. What
distinguishes nature from art (rex^v) is this : The goal at
which the artist aims exists in his thought as a clearly-con-
ceived idea, while in nature it exists as an instinct. There
is an end to be realized in the case of the bird which cre-
ates itself as well as in tlie case of tlie bed that is made by
the joiner. In order to become a reality, the end bed
needs the hands of the joiner ; the end hird realizes itself ;
in both instances, however, final causes play an important
part. But, what of the objection that nature sometimes
1 Meteorology, 1, 3.

ARISTOTLE 125

produces monsters ? Well, mistakes may be made in her
domain as well as in the domain of art. A grammarian
may, in spite of his knowledge, make a mistake in spelling ;
a physician, though skilful, may administer the wrong-
medicine. So, too, errors can creep into tlie operations of
nature, and monstrosities are merely deviations from a goal
that is aimed at without success.^ Nature desires the best
without always being able to achieve it.^ Her mistakes
must be charged to matter, not to the active idea.^ Fur-
thermore, it would be absurd to deny natural teleology sim-
ply because we do not see in natm-e a deliberating motive
principle. Art does not deliberate either ; in the majority
of cases there is no need of reflection. Art moves from
without, nature from within. If the art of naval construc-
tion were in the wood, it would resemble natiu'e in its
action.^ Hence nature acts teleologically as well as art.^
The end or iDurpose is the verij i^riiiciple that makes her
ad^ and 'pre-exists in principle in the organisms p)roduced
hi/ herJ

Organisms differ from inorganic bodies in that they are
impelled by an inner principle (j^v^v}, which employs a
number of organs (opjava) in order to realize its purposes.
The vegetable kingdom is not an end in itself ; the animal
which lives on the i)lant is its end. Hence the soul of the
plant simply performs the functions of assimilation and
reproduction (^t6 OpemiKov). The soul of tlie animal has,
in addition, the faculty of feeling {to ala-OrjriKov), to wliich
is added, in liigher animals, the capacity to retain sense-
impressions (fiv-qfij]). The sensations of sight, hearing, smell,
taste, and touch, meet in a connnon sense (kolvt) atadrjai'i),

1 Phys , If., 8, 9. » Pullllrs, I., 2, 14, 19. « Phijs., IT., 8, 8.

* 'I'liis is what inoderii metaphysics calls the immanent teleology of
uature.

• Phys.,U.,8, 1.', Ifj. j,i^ u., y, 4
' Mel., IX., S; De ]»irt. aiiiiii , II., 1.

126 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

which synthesizes them and constitutes a rudimentary form
of inner apperception. The soul of the animal is suscep-
tible of pleasure and pain ; hence it strives for what makes
an agreeable impression upon it, and shuns the contrary (to
opeKTLKov^ the active faculty or will). Hence the spon-
taneous movement of the animal {(fiopd, to KivTjrtKov Kara
Tov TOTTov). In addition to all these endowments of animal
life, the human soul possesses the faculty of knowledge or
reason (to StavorjTLKov). Owing to this, man is the master-
piece of nature, the most perfect organic being (ex^i- o
avOpunro'i ttjv (fivaiv a7roTtTeXeo-/x€VT]v ^). He is the linal
goal (TeXa) 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 eiforts, 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 piu'pose
of the zoological development, the human species, pene-
trates and overcomes inorganic matter.^ Corres]3onding
to the elementary plant-soul we have an organism in
which up and down are distinguishal)le, 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 ojoposition 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.

* The fuudameutal conception of comparative anatomy.

ARISTOTLE 127

The animal kingdom is divided into two classes, one
of wliicli embraces sanguineous animals, viz., mammalians,
bii'ds, tislies, amphibia ; wliile the other consists of insects,
crustaceans, testaceans, and mollusks.^ Warmth is in
separable from life, and the relative perfection of an
animal directl}^ depends upon the amount of lieat in it.
Aristotle believes in spontaneous generation on a grand
scale, although 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 parte 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
(8vuafMi<;) and function (ivTeXe^eia). Because of this inti-
mate correlation, the organized body exists and lives only
for the sake of the soul, which is its final cause or the pur-
pose for which it exists (to ov eveKa to aMfxa) ; 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 {evTeXe-xjeia tov crcofxaTo^).
Without the body the soul may, indeed, exist potentially
(Bwdfiei), but not actually or in reality (ivep'yeia). It is,
according to Aristotle, as impossible to feel, to desire, and
to will, without the necessary corporeal organs, as it is to
walk without feet or to make a statue out of nothing
(^ahi^eiv avev ttoSwi', opav ciuev 6(f)da\fj.o)V, avSpi,a<; dvev
XaXKOv^). The soul is to the body what cutting is to the
axe ; the function of cutting w(juld 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.

^ I>e partiliiis anundlium, T., •?.

* Di; (jeueratione iniimiillmu, II., '-i. Cf. Mr/., ^'II., 11, 11.

128 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

From the relation ol:)taining 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 inhabit 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 {Svvd/j.eL<;) ; 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 organized bod//, 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 earthly things ; it is perish-
able {^dapro^ 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 (i^oO?
iraOrjriKo^) shares the fate of the body, without which it
cannot be conceived. Only the active intellect (voC? ttoit]-

1 De anima, II., 1 : Ei 8/; ri koivov €n\ Trda-rjs '^vxrjs Set 'Keyeiv, e'lrj av
ivTiKi^eia 17 Trparr] aafiaros (pvaiKoii opyaviKov.

^ De anhna, III., 5 : 'O Se ivadrynKos vovs (pdapTos-

ARISTOTLE 129

Tt/cd?), tlie pure reason, which conceives the universal and
the divine, enjoys the privilege of immortality ; for it alone
cannot be explained as a function of the body ; nay it is
essentially different {-fvxr'i'i ^evo^ hepov) and separable
(Xcopio-Tov) from this, while tlie other faculties cannot be
separated from it (ra Xolttci p,6pLa rr}? t/tui^t}? oiiic eari
^(opiard ^). The active intellect is not a capacity, but an
actual being {ovaia ivepyeia u>v) ; 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 (Oelov),
that existed before the soul as w^ell before the body, and
was united with it mechanically {dvpadev). This separate
intellect (%cy/3to-To?) is absolutely immaterial (aiiLyr]<i), im-
passive {anraOrj^), imperishable, and eternal {adavaro'i koI
atSco^) ; without it the passive and perishable intellect can-
not think (dvev tovtov 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. Tlie logic of the S3'stem demands that we identify it
with God himself ; for its definition agrees, in every re-
spect, with tliat of tlie absolute vov<;.^ Moreover, Aristotle
cannot assume a plurality of sei)arate intelligences without
contradicting a pi'liicipli' <>f his nictaphysics : vjhatever is
plural is material:' 'i'lic vov'i ttolijtiko^ is declared to be

* De anliiia, 11., 0.

2 /J., III., .'). Cf. De (jener. el cvrnij,!.. 11, :{.
» Mrf., XII.. ■■'>, li>. ^ Jhul.

• Id., XIII., (i, 'Jl.

130 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

absolutely immaterial {airaOri^, ctfiiyri^). Hence it can only
exist in the singular : it is unique, and resembles tlie im-
manent reason, the world-soul, or the universal spirit (\0709
rov Traz^To?) of Stoic pantheism, of which the particular souls
are temporary personifications. The transcendency of the
God of Aristotle Avould not exclude such an interpreta-
tion, for the Metaphysics affirms both the transcendency of
the Deity and his immanency in the universe as the phy-
sical and moral order of the world ; but what excludes it
is the very emphatic assertion that the active intellect is
substantial {ovTO<i 6 vov^ x^pLaTo<i kol airadr]^ koX a/xLyr]^, ry
oua-ia wv ivepyeia ^). Logically, tliis intellect can be nothing
but the Supreme Being himself. When Aristotle allows
himself to call the vov<i atSLo<; a part of the soul and its im-
mortal part at that, we shall say that his logic is at fault.
One tiling, however, is certain : by affirming that the eter-
nal intelligence alone is immortal, he positively denies
individual immortality. On this point of the Peripatetic
teaching there cannot be the slightest dispute.

The active intellect (TrotT^ri/co?) is by no means identical
with the human intellect, and its immortality is of little or no
use. Indeed, according to Aristotle's theory of knowledge,
which is closely akin to the teachings of Democritus and
sensationalism, the human understanding is not the creator
or the father (TroLrjr^-i), but only the recipient or the mother
of ideas. It is, by nature, devoid of all content, and re-
sembles an empty tablet or a wliite page (jpafxfiaretov u> firjOev
virapx^i- ivreXexe^ajeypafi/Jievov^). Peripatetic sensualism
does not, however, exclude the excipe intellectum of Leibniz,
but assumes that ideas pre-exist in the mind, if not actually,
potentially at least (Swdfiei) ; in other words, it maintains
that the mind originally possesses, not ready-made ideas,
but the faculty of forming them.s The ex nihilo nihil is

1 De anima, III., 5. ^ Id., III., 4.

f See the discussions of this subject by Locke and Leibniz (§§ 56
and 57).

ARISTOTLE 131

one of Aristotle's fundamental doctrines. Although he
holds that the infant mind is an empty tablet, that expe-
rience is the source of our knowledge, that intelligence
is developed and realized by sensation, he does not teach
either an anti-philosophical dualism or a vulgar mechan-
ism. On the contrary, dualism affirms one of the principles
of knowledge to the exclusion of the other ; it isolates
thought and keeps it from having intercourse with nature,
on the plea that any increase produced through the senses
would be a pollution. Plato teaches such a dualism. As
far as Aristotle is concerned, the charge of dualism may
-with justice Ije brought against his theology, on the one
hand, and his theory of the active intellect, on the other.

The presence of the vov<; makes the human soul an inter-
mediate being between the animal and God. In seiisibilit}^
perception, and niemor}", it resembles the animal ; in reason
it is like God. This dual aspect constitutes its originality
as a moral being. There can be no morality without the
coexistence of animal and intellectual principles. The ani-
mal is not a moral being, because it is devoid of intellect.
Nor can there be any question of morality in the case of God,
who is pure thought. Hence morality is the distinguish-
ing characteristic of human nature, and if the end of every
being is the complete and j^erfect realization of its nature,
the end of human life consists neither in the one-sided
development of the animal functions nor in changing man
into God (\\hich would be foolish and impossible), but in
the complete and harmonious expansion of our dual essence.
For man the highest good consists in the happiness (evSai-
liovia) resulting from the harmonious cooperation of the in-
tellect and the animal elements. Such a state of equilibrium
constitutes virtue. Tlie liarmoii}' between the active and
passive intellect is called intellectual virtue {aperr} Btavorj-
TLKrj) ; this manifests itself as wisdom in theoiy, and as
prudence or common-sense {(^p6vr]cn<;^ ev^ovXia) in practice.

132 GHEEK PHILOSOPHY

The harmony between the intellect and the will is called
ethical virtne {aperrj 7]6iki])^ that is, courage, temperance,
liberality, magnificence, magnanimity, gentleness, sincer-
ity, and sociableness. Virtue is not the extreme opposite
of vice (as Plato holds) ; it is the mean (ro jxeaov) between
two extremes {aKpa). Courage, for example, is a virtue,
and as such the mean between timidity and foolhardiness ;
liberality is the mean between avarice and prodigality. ^

Inasmuch as man is (f)V(r€t ^cpov ttoXltiicov^ individuals
cannot make and change the State at will ; on the con-
trary, the State forms the individuals. The family, prop-
erty, and slavery are natural institutions. It is no truer
that the same form of government is as suitable to all
nations and circumstances than that the same garment fits
everybody. The monarchy is the best form of government
when the power is in the hands of a good prince ; for in
this case it is an image of the government of the universe :
a perfect monarchy under a perfect monarch. But this
form is the m.ost odious of all when it becomes tyranny.
The safety of the State consists in a just apportionment
of powers, and depends essentially on tlie strength of
the middle classes.^

Aristotle's ethics and politics, like his metaphysics, are
decidedly antagonistic to the Utopian ideals of Plato. He
is a realist and a positivist, a common-sense thinker, so to
speak, and takes into special account the facts of experi-
ence ; he is exceedingly careful not to set up an ideal goal
which humanity can never reach. His entire philosophy is
a doctrine of the golden mean, and as far removed from a
coarse sensationalism as from an idealism that is out of
harmony with real life. In his love of science for science's
sake, the suppleness and versatility of his genius, his predi-
lection for measure, proportion, and the harmony of the

^ NicomacTiean Elides, II., 5 ff . ^ Politics, IV., 9.

ARISTOTLE 133

ideal and the real, Aristotle represents the climax of Greek
thouo-ht. But he also marks its decline, and inaugurates
a new epoch in the general evolution of humanity. He
resembles a Semite or a Roman in the unremitting good
sense wliich he displays, and in his sober positivism. His
style is not, like that of his master, the work of the Muses.
But liis pliilosophy is even more realistic in matter than
in form. His fundamental metaphysical teacliing, which
makes matter a necessary element of fhiite existence ; the
epistemological doctrine that the mind is an empty tablet ;
his monotheism, wliich is much more outspoken and absol-
ute than Plato's ; his morality of the golden mean ; Ids
monarchical tendencies, — everj-thing about his system is a
forecast of the new world, the elements of which were pre-
pared at Bella, Rome, Alexantbia, and Jerusalem.

AmoncT the most distinj^uished scholarchs who succeeded
him in the Lyceum are to be mentioned Theophrastus,^
Dicsearchus,^ Aristoxenus,'^ and, above all, Strato of Lamp-
sacus,* the teacher of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Aristoxenus
denies the immortality of the intellect, and Strato the exist-
ence of God ; which proves, either that the master's doctrine
of immortality and the first mover was merely an accom-
modation, or that his ancient followers were even less
united than his mediaeval disciples. What distinguishes
the pupils from the master, and what characterizes post-
Aristotelian philosophy as a whole, is the gradual division
of scientific labor A\'hich takes place after Aristotle. The
work of Aristotle the scientist was continued in Sicily,

^ Cicero ar/ Attic, II., 16; Acad, post., I., 9; De fini!)us,\., 5, 12;
Tuscul. v., 9 ; Siini)licius, Iti P/n/s., f. 225. [See also for Theopliras-
tus and other disciples of Aristotle, Hitter and Preller, pp. 3(il ff. ;
Mullach, vol. II., pp. 29:} ff. ; Writings edited by Schneider, 1818 ft'. ;
Fragments, hy Wiinmer, 1851, 1862. — Tu.]

2 Cic, Tuscul. I., 10. 3 Jhltl.

* Cic. de nat. deor., 1, 13; De Jin., V., 5; Diutj. L., V., 58; Siiiv
pliciu.-*, loc. cil.

134 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Eg3rpt, and the islands of the Mediterranean ; while Athens,
and in Athens the Lyceum itself, merely retained a philoso-
phy of reasoning, dialectics, and eristics, which cared less
and less for the physical cosmos^ and devoted its entire
attention to the soul.

What is the essence, the aim, the destiny of the human
soul, the favorite toj)ic of Attic pliilosophy ? Plato regards
thought as the essence and end of the soul, and Aristotle's
theology is at bottom simply an apotheosis of roO?. Epi-
curus, however, like Democritus, negates the thought-
substance and teaches a philosophy of pleasure. Between
these two extremes we have the concrete Spiritualism of
the Stoics.

B. Apotheosis of Matter. Negation of the
Thought-Substaxce

§ 18. Epicurus

Epicurus ^ was born about 340, at Gargettos, of Athenian
parents. Reflection on liis mother's superstitious practices
and the study of Democritus made him sceptical, and
convinced him that our fear of the gods and the hereafter
is the principal obstacle to the happiness of man ; and it is
the business of philosophy to make us happy by freeing us,
tlii'ough observation and reasoning, from the belief in the

^ Sources : Diog. L., X. ; Cic, Defin., I. ; Lucretius, De rerum natura :
Sext. Emp., Adv. math., XI. ; Gassendi, De vita, moribus, et doctrina
Eplcuri, 1647, and Syntagma pldlosopMce Epic, 1655 ; The Studies on
Epicurus and Lucretius by J. Rondel (Paris, 1679), Batteux (1758),
etc. ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 373 if. ; Guyau, La morale d' Epicure et
ses rapports avec les doctrines contemporaincs, Paris, 1878; [Trezza, Epi-
curo e V Epicureismo, Florence, 1877, 2d ed. INIilan, 1885; P. v. Gizycki,
Ueher das Leben und die MoralphilosopMe des Epikurs, Halle, 1879;
W. Wallace, Epicureanism, London, 1880 ; Usener, Epicurea, Leipsic,
1887. See also Grote's Aristotle, and Susemihl, mentioned p. 140. — ■
Tk.1.

EPICURUS 135

supernatural. In the society wliicli he founded at Athens
about 306, his personal influence seems to have been very
great, and the maxims which he dictated to his cUsciples
[KvpLai So^ai) formed the permanent basis of the Epicurean
teacliing long after his death (270). But neither polythe-
ism nor Clu'istianity had any interest in preserving his
numerous writings,^ nearly all of which have been lost, and
this Socrate double cVun Voltaire has been more bitterly
attacked than any other founder of a school.

Unlike Aristotle, who loves science for science's sake,
and considers the tirst philosophy as the best and most
divine science^ "although others may be more useful," ^
Epicurus makes science the servant of life, and is inter-
ested in theory only in so far as it is related to practice.
The aim of philosophy,^ which he cUvides into the canonic
(logic), physics, and etliics, is, according to him, to make
human life tranquil and peaceful {arapa^ia), and this aim
he finds realized in the system of Democritus, w4th whom
he agrees in almost every respect.

Matter is not non-heinr/, as Plato holds, but the positive
and onl}^ principle of things, the universal substratum, of
which soul, mind, and thought are mere accidents (avfiTrroi}-
fiara rj (rv/x^e/SrjKora). Outside of it, there is nothing but
the void, the condition of movement. Matter is composed
of innumerable, uncreated, and indestructible atoms in per-
petual motion. According to Democritus, these coipuscles
naturally and necessarily mo^■e downward. But inasmuch

1 About three hundred, according to Diogenes Laeriius. With tlie
exception of the Letters, etc., preserved by this historian, we know
nothing of the lost writings except what we can learn from the quota-
tions found in various Greek authors, the valuable re'sMme' presented
by Lucretius in his Dc rerurn nntura, and the fragments of the work
TTfpi (})va«os, etc., discovered at Ilerculaneum.

2 Met., I., 2, 19-2.5.

* Epicurus defines it as follows : 'Epfpyf la Xoyots kqi SiaXoyianon tuv
iviaifxova ^lov irfpinotovaa (Sext. Emp., A'lv. iiialh., XI., I'llt).

136 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

as they are joined together and form bodies, it must be
assumed, according to Epicurus, that they deviated from
the perpendicuhir line. Such a deviation couhl only have
been the result of chance. Epicurus is not, therefore, an
absolute determinist, for he assumes chance, that is, the
possibility of an effect without a cause. This view allows
him to recognize in etliics the freedom of indifference, or
causes without effects.^

But though, by an inconsistency that does more credit to
his imagination than to his logic, he differs from Democritus
on the subject of causality, he agrees with him regarding
the eternity of the universe. The absolute creation and
absolute destruction of the world are out of the question.
Creation in the proper sense of the term is impossible. In
order to convince ourselves that the world is not the work
of the gods, we have simply to consider the nature of
its alleged creators, on the one hand, and its imperfections,
on the other. Why should such perfect and supremely
happy beings, who are self-sufficient and have no need
of anything, burden themselves with creating the world?
Why should they undertake the difficult task of governing
the universe ? Let us, however, suppose for a moment that
the Avorld is their product. If they have created it, they
have created it either eternally or in time ; in the former
case, the world is eternal ; in the latter, we have two pos-
si])ilities: Either creation is a condition of divine happi-
ness, and then the gods were not supremely happy for an
entire eternity, inasmuch as they did not create the world
until after the lapse of an eternity of inaction ; or, it is
not, and in that case, they have acted contrary to their
innermost essence. Moreover, what could have been their
purpose in making it? Did they desire a habitation?
That would be equivalent to saying that they had no dwell-
ing-place for a whole eternity, or at least, none worthy of
1 Lucretius, De rerum nutura, II., 216 ff. ; Diog. L., X., 133-134:.

EPICURUS 137

tliem. Did they create it for the sake of man ? If they
made it for the few sages whom this workl contains, their
work was not worth the ti'ouble ; if they did it in order to
create wicked men, then they are cruel beings. Hence it
is absokitely impossible to hold that creation is the work
of the gods.

Let us examine the matter from the standpoint of the
world. How can we assume that a world full of evils is
the creation of the gods ? What have we ? Barren deserts,
arid mountains, deadly marshes, uninhabitable arctic zones,
regions scorched by the southern sun, briars and thorns,
tempests, hail-storms and hurricanes, ferocious beasts, dis-
eases, premature deatlis ; do they not all abundantly prove
that the Deity has no hand in the governance of things ?
Empty space, atoms, and weight, in short, mechanical
causes, suffice to explain the world; and it is not neces-
sary for metaphysics to have recourse to the theory of
final causes. It is possible, nay, it is certain that gods
exist : all the nations of the earth agree to that. But
these supremely happy beings who are free from passion,
favoritism, and all human weaknesses,^ enjoy absolute
repose. In their far-off home they are unmoved by the
miseries of humanity; nor can they exert any influence
on the life of man. There can be no magic, divination,
or miracles, nor any kind of intercourse between them
and us.

"SVe should cease to fear the punishments of Tartaras.
Tlie soul Ls material, and shares the fate of the body.
What proves it to be matter — exceedingly iine matter, of
course — is the influence exercised upon it by tlie body in
fainting, aria'stliesia, and delirium, in cases of injury and
disease, and above all, the fact tliat the advance and
the decline of the soul correspond to analogous bodily

^ Diof^. ly., X. '[■')'■) : To fiuKupiov Km ii<^6aj)Tov . . . oSr opyais ovrt
^dpicn (Tvvi)(fTaL. tv daOfvei yup nuv tu Tmnvruv.

138 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

conditions. The intellectual faculties are weak in the
period of childhood ; they grow strong in youth, and
gradually decay in old age. Sickness causes a serious
reaction upon the soul ; without the body the soul has no
power to manifest itself. Nay, more than that ; the dying
man does not feel his soul gradually withdrawing from
one organ to another, and then finally making its escape
with its powers unimpaired ; he experiences a gradual
diminution of his mental faculties. If the soul retained
full consciousness at death, and if, as certain Platonists
maintain, death were the transition of the soul to a
higher life, then, instead of fearing death, man would re-
joice at it, which is not the case. Moreover, our fear of
death is not caused by our dread of non-existence ; what
makes us regard it with such terror is the fact tliat we
involuntarily combine with the idea of nothingness an idea
.)f life, that is, the notion of feeling this nothingness ; we
•magine that the dead man is conscious of his gradual
destruction, that he feels himself burning, or devoured by
the worms, that the soul continues to exist and to feel. If
only we could succeed in wholly separating the idea of life
from its opposite, and bravely relinquish all thought of im-
mortality, death would lose its terrors. We should say to
ourselves : Death is not an evil ; neither for him who is
dead, for he has no feeling; nor for the living, for him
death does not yet exist. As long as we are alive, death
does not exist for us, and when death appears we no longer
exist. Hence we can never come in contact with death ;
we never feel its icy touch, which we dread so much.

Consequently, we should not be hindered by foolish fears
from attaining the goal of our existence, happiness. Pleas-
ure is the highest good ; not the pleasure accompanying a
passing sensation (rjBovrj iv /civijaei), but pleasure as a per-
manent state (rjSovrj KaraaTTi^aTLK-q)^ — that state of deep
peace and perfect contentment in which we feel secure

EPICURUS 139

against the storms of life. The pleasures of the mind
are preferable to voluptuousness, for they endure ; while
sensations vanish away like the moment which procures
them for us. We should avoid excess in everything, lest
it engender its opposite, the permanent pain resulting from
exhaustion. On the other hand, we must consider such
painful feelings as, for example, painful operations, as good,
because they procure health and pleasure. Virtue is the
tact which impels the wise man to do whatever contributes
to liis welfare, and makes liim avoid the contrary. Virtue
is not the highest good, but the true and only means of
realizino- it.^

Owino- to its simplicity, its anti-mystical character, and
its easy application, the Epicui^ean system became a for-
midable rival of Platonism, Peripateticism, and Stoicism.
Italy received it with especial favor, and reckoned among
its disciples, the poet Lucretius, who wrote the De rernm
natura, T. Cassius, L. Torquatus, T. Pomponius Atticus,
Cgesar, Horace, and Pliny the Younger. During the reign
of the Caesars, Stoicism was represented by the republican
opposition, wliile Epicureanism gathered around its standard
the partisans of the new order of things, who were fortu-
nate in being able to realize the ideals of the master under
the auspices of a great and peaceful power. Protected as
it was by the Emperors,^ the school destroyed what re-
mained of the crumljling edifice of polytheism, and at the
same time attacked the new religion and the supernatural
Christian.

1 Dioy. L., X., 1 10 : OIk ecrriv ijflf'cof (rjv avev rov (/);ir)i't/xa)y koX AtaXcof

2 A Latin aiul Greek inscription recently discovered in the excava-
tions of the Archa-olo^ical Society at Athens and dating from the
time of Hadrian, wholly confirms what we already know as to the
special protection accorded to the school of Epicurus by the Em-
Ijerors. Owing to this, it exerted the preponderating influence during
the first centuries of our era, and aroused great jealousy among the

140 GREEK nilLOSOPHY

C. Apotheosis of Will
§ 10. Stoicism 1

The founder of the Stoic school, Zeisto^ of Citiiim in
Cyprus, was the son of a family of merchants of Phoenician
origin. Upon losing his fortune through shipwreck, he
decided to indulge his taste for study. He was alternately
the disciple of Crates, the Cynic, of Stilpo, the Megarian,
and of the Academicians, Xenocrates and Pole mo. There-
upon he taught philosophy in the Iroa toikiXtj at Athens.
Convinced of the rightness of suicide, he put an end to
his life about 2G0, leaving a great reputation and a large
number of disciples behind. The school was continued by
Cleantlies,^ a native of the Troad, the supposed author of
the so-called hymn of Cleanthes,* and after the voluntary

Platonic, Peripatetic, and Stoic schools. The inscription also gives
us some information, at least indirectly, concerning matters hitherto
little known, as for example, the organization of the school during the
imperial period, its mode of appointing scholarchs, etc.

1 [Flitter and Preller, pp. .392 ff. ; Tiedemann, System der stoischen
Philosophie, 3 vols. Leipsic, 1776; TtELxaisson, Essai sur le stoicisme,
Paris, 18.56 ; Leferriere, Me'moire concernanl Vinfluence du stoicisme sur
la doctrine des j'ltrisconsidies romains, Paris, 1860 ; Hirzel, Untersuchun-
gen zu Ciceros Philonophie, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1877-83 (Part II., pp. 1-.566,
for Stoics) ; Weygoldt, Die Philosophie der Stoa, Leipsic, 1883 ; Oge-
reau, Essai sur le systhne philosophique des Sloiciens, Paris, 188.5 ; Bon-
hdfer, Epiktet und die Stoa, Stuttgart, 1890 ; and Die Ethilc des
Stoikers Epiktet, Stuttgart, 1894 ; Schmekel, Die Philosophie der mil-
tleren Stoa, Berlin, 1892; Zahn, Der Stoiker Epiktet, 2d ed., Leipsic,
1895; Stein, Die Psycholorjie der Stoa, 2 vols., Berlin, 1886-88;
F. Susemihl, Geschichte der Litteratur in der Alexandrinerzeit, 2 vols.,
Leipsic, 1891-92. — Tr.]

2 Diog. L., VII. [Pearson, Fragments of Zeno and Cleunthes, Cam
bridge, 1889].

3 Diog. L.,VIL, 168 ff.

* Hymn to Jupiter (Stobaeus, Eel., I., p. 30),

STOICISM 141

death of the latter, by Chiysippus of Tarsus ^ (according
to others, of Soli) in Cilicia (280-210), in whose numerous
polemical -syriliiigs against the Academy, the teachings of
the school received their final form.^

In order to form a correct conception of Stoicism we
must remember (1) that it is not merely a philosophy and
a system of ethics, but a religion raised upon the ruins of
popular polytheism ; (2) that its founder and its most ar-
dent disciples trace their origin either to Semitic Asia or
to Roman Italy; (3) that it is not the work of a single
individual, but a collection of doctrines from different
sources wliich meet in one and the same channel like the
tributaries of a river. Hence its conservatism in religion
and its dogmatism in metaphysics. Hence also its prac-
tical turn, and, finall}', the complex and wholly eclectic
nature of its teachings.

Like Epicurus, Zeno and the Stoics pursue science for
tlie sake of life ; truth, in so far as it is good and useful
(to i7nTt]8€iOP, TO (pcpeXifxov) ; the search for the Jlrst cause
of being, in order to discover the Jinal goal of life {ro
Te\o<;). AVisdom, i. e., theoretical and practical virtue, is
the goal. Theoretical virtue consists in tliinlving correctly
(aperr] XojiKrj) and in having correct notions of the nature
of tilings {aperr] ^vaLKrj) ; but practical virtue, which con-
sists in right living and in acting according to reason, is
the highest type of virtue, the goal aimed at by theoretical
virtue, which is but a means. Whatever does not tend to
make us better, and has no influence on our impulses and
actions, is indifferent or bad. Logic, metaph3'Sics, and the
sciences have no raison d'etre except in so far as they are of
practical value. They introduce us to the study of ethics,
and this gives them their importance in the teachings of
the school.

1 Diog. L., VIT., 179 ff; Cicero, passim.

a Cicero, DeJIn., IV., 10, 50; Diog. L., VII., 1 ; Ogeroau, op. cil.

142 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Conformably with its voluntaristic and anti-dualistic ten-
dencies, Stoicism rejects Plato's separate Idea, even more
emphatically tlian Aristotle. Ideas or iiniversals have no
objective existence ; they exist neither outside of things,
as Plato teaches, nor in things, as Aristotle holds ; they
are mere abstractions of thought {evvorj^iara), to which
nothing corresponds in reality. Moreover, tlie soul has
no innate ideas ; it is an empty tablet, and all its concepts
come to it from without {Ovpadev). The sensible impres-
sion (TU7ra)cri<?) is, according to Cleanthes, like an impression
made upon a material object, like the mark of a seal upon
wax. Cln-ysippus defines it as a modification of the soul
(eTepoicoai'i). Sensation (atadijai^) is the common source
of all our ideas {(^avraaCai). The latter are divided into
four categories, according as they express : substantiality
(vTroKeLfieva), quality (Troid), mode of being (ttco? exovra),
or relation (Trpo? ri ttw? exovra). An idea is true when it
is an exact reproduction of its object. The criterion of the
truth of an idea is its clearness, its self-evidence {c^avraaCat
KaTakriTrTiKal). There are, accorchngto Zeno, four degrees
of knowledge : presentation, {^avTaaia), assent (a-uyKard-
0€(n<i), comprehension {KaTdXr]-yln'i), and understanding
{eTncrr-qixri). In order to illustrate the highest degree of
knowledge, which the philosopher alone attains, Zeno,
it is said, used to place his left hand upon his clenched
right. Following the example of Aristotle, the Stoics
regarded grammar and rhetoric as integral parts of logic.
They are worthy successors of the great logician in this
field ; indeed, the majority of our technical terms in gram-
mar and syntax are of Stoic origin. ^

1 For the Stoic logic, see Diog. L., VII., 41 ff. ; Cic, Acad, pr., II.,
47, and post, I., 11; Sextus Emp., Adv. math., VIII.; Stobaeus, Ed.
I.; Simplicius, In Cafeg., f. 16b; [Prantl, Geschichte der Logik :
Heinze, Ziir Erkenntniitslehre der Stoiker, Leipsic, 1880 ; Stein, Die
Erkenntnisstheorie der Stoiker, vol. II. of work mentioned above. —
Tk.].

STOICISM 143

The Stoic metaphysic is, like their theory of knowledge,
even more realistic than the system of Aristotle. It is
concrete spiritualism pure and simple. Mind and body
are two aspects of one and the same reality. In the real
being, mind is the active element {ro ttoiovv) ; matter, the
passive element (ro Trdaxov). There is no such thing as
pure spirit. Whatever Aristotle may think of liim, God
has a body, and the world constitutes this body. The uni-
verse is a living being {^q)ov), of which God is the soul
(yjrvxr] rov Koafxov), the governing intelligence (pov<i, \6'yo<;
Tov 7ravT6<i), the sovereign law (elfiapfievr], avdjKi]), the
motive principle, the animating warmth {irvev^ia irvpoeihe';^
irvp TeyviKOV^ irvp voepov, irvev/jia StrjKov Bi* uXov tov Kocrfiou).

The Stoic theology is a kind of compromise between pan-
theism and theism. God is identical with the universe,
but this universe is a real being, a living God who has
a knowledge of things (fou?), who governs our destinies
(-rrpovoia), who loves us {(f)L\dv0 p(0'Tro<;), and desires our
good (Ki]Se/xoviK6'?, (0(fie\L/jb0';, ev7rou]TiKO'i dv6pai7roc<;), with-
out, liowever, participating in human passions. The Stoics
ascribe providential love to the Infinite Being ; hence their
teaching cUffers essentially from that of the Peripatetics
and Epicureans {ovk addvarov jjlovov Kai fiaKdpiov, akXd koI
(fjiXdvOpcoirov). 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 tlie forces
of nature ; but they declare these gods to be mortal, and
ascribe immortality to tlic 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 lilx^ral, hut not less accommodating. They look u])on myths as
allegories, the hidden meaning of which must be unravelled. Jui)iter
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 {rtXeiov
aMfia}, 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 shaking 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 body is a fragment
of universal matter ; our soul, a warm breath emanating
from the soul of the world {irvevfia evOep/xov). 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-theological argument.

STOICISM 145

But though it may exist beyond the grave, say for cen-
tui'ies, even the pliilosopher's soul is not innnortal in
the absolute sense ; for on the last day it will, like every-
tliing else in the world, disappear in the universal con-
flaoration {eKTrvpwcn^). Absolute immortality belongs to
God alone. The fate which awaits the soul is not, how-
ever, 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 innnortality
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 {aSLd(j>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
Ka6i]Kov), but in an habitual disj)Osition of the soul (e^t?,
KUTopdcofxa). It is one ; you cannot be Adrtuous in one re-
spect and vicious in another. It is the common source of
what we call the virtues^ i. e., wisdom ((f)pov7](T:^), courage
(avSpia), temperance {a-ax^poavvri)^ and justice (ZLKaioavvjf).
To possess one of these cardinal virtues is to possess them

1 For the Stoic metapliysics and physics, see Diog. L., YII. ;
Stobaeus, Ed. I.; Cic, De nat. deor. ; De fato : Seneca, Epislle (id,
etc.; Plutarch, De Stoic. Rep., 41 ff. [Cf. also vol. I. of L. Stein's
work, cited, p. 140; Sieheck, (Intersurhunf/en, cited p. .59; M. Iloinze,
Die Lehre lom Logos, etc., Oldenburg, 187*2. — Tu.]

* Thus the sr-hool of Rhodes, a branch of tlie Athouian school,
rejected the doctrine of final conflagration.

146 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

all in principle ; not to have one of them means to have
none. A man is good in all things {crirovBalo';) or bad in
all (4)avXo<i). There is no mean between virtue and vice
{d/j,dpTr]fji,a). Theoretically, there 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, who, 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 they are the
products of human caprice and not of reason {6pdo<; X0709,
Kotvo<i X070?). He alone is truly free ; he has overcome
the world as well as his own passions. Nothing can affect
him nor make him falter ; neither the happenings of the
world nor the storms in liis own heart. Let come what
come may, he is resigned; for everything is decreed by
Nature and Fate ; and Nature and Fate are synonymous
with Reason, Providence, and good Will.i Hence, the
supreme rule which he observes in all things : sequi na-
turam, to follow nature, that is, the law which nature
enjoins upon conscience, and which is identical with the
law that governs the world {uKoXovdcci ry cfivcrei, Kara
(^vaiv ^rjv, Kara \6yov ^rjv, XoycKoyi ^tjv).

It would be an easy task to point out the contradictions
in the theories which we have just outlined, to contrast
the moral idealism of the Stoics with the thorough-going
realism of their ontology. But, as was ^aid, we have in
Stoicism not the system of a single individual but a col-

1 For Stoic ethics, see Diog. L., VII. ; Stobaeus, Eclog. ethic. IT.:
Cicero, Defn. ; TuscuL, etc. The writings of the later Stoics, Seneca,
Epictetus-Arrianus, Marcus Aurelius, etc. [Ravaisson, De la morale
deti Sloiciens, Paris. 1850 ; Fortlage, Ueher die Gluckselif/leilslehre der
Stoiker (in Seeks philosophische Vortrdge, Jena, 1867); W. T. Jackson,
Seneca and Kant, 1881 ; Apejt, Beitrdge zur Geschichte der griechischen
PhilosopUe, Leipsic, 1891. — Tr.]

STOICISM 147

lection of doctrines advanced by one and the same sect,
a religion for the educated chisses, who desired to bring
then- " new faith " into harmony with the old, a kind of
union between virtue and the polytheistic Church, embra-
cing the most diverse elements, but inspired with the same
ideals. Pantetius of Rhodes ^ and Posidonius of Apamea,^
the teacher of Cicero and Pompey, introduced the teach-
ings of Stoicism into the Roman world. Owingf to the
close affinity existing between these teachings and the
Latin and Semitic spirit, the Stoics were not long in gain-
ing adherents. Those especiall}^, who, on the decline of
the Republic, battled unsuccessfully against the growing
despotism of the Caesars, men like Cicero, Cato, and
Brutus, found in tliis philosophy a deep source of encour-
agement and consolation. To Stoicism we owe Cicero's
Dc finihus honorum et malorum, Seneca's ^ Moral Letters^ the
noble teachings of Epictetus wliich Flavins Arrianus pre-
served in his Bncheiridion, and the twelve books Ad se
ipsurii of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, one of the most
admirable products of ancient ethics. Nevertheless, its
influence cannot be compared with that of Christianity.*

1 Died in the year 112 b. c. See Suidas ; Cicero, De Jinibus ; De
officii^ ; De divinatione : De legihus ; Seneca, Epistle 116 ; Diog. L., YII.

- Suidas and Diogenes Laertins.

3 The theory has long ago been abandoned that Seneca and the
Apostle St. Paul As-ere on terms of f^-iendship with each other. The
Vjest the extreme advocates of the view that a relationship exists be-
tween Stoicism and Paulinism can do, is to appeal to the fact that
Chrysippus, the chief founder of Stoicism, and the Apostle St. Paul
(who was, however, educated at Jerusalem), were born in the same
province and perhaps in the same town.

* We have pointed out the distiiigiiisliiug oliaraotcristics of Stoi-
cism and Christianity in another work {De rcconomie du salut. Jjltude
sur les rapports du dotjine el de la morale, Strasburg, 18G3). See also,
Dourif, Du stcicisme et du christlanisme consideWs dans leurs rapports,
leurs differences, et V influence respective qu'Us o'U exercee sur les 7i>(rurs,
I'arJH, 1K(;;{. [Hryaut, 77.<? Mutwd Influence of Christianity and the
Stoic School, I>oriil()ii, IHOO ; Capes, Stoicism, Loudon, 18.S0.]

148 GREEK PIIILOSOrHY

It was confined to the world of letters and hardly pene-
trated the masses. Stoicism has nothing to make it pop-
ular ; it pursues the paths of science and of meditation ; it,
too, shuns " the vulgar crowd " and is identified, in practice,
with Epicureanism.^

§ 20. Sceptical Reaction. Pyrrhonism ^

Aristotle was both a zealous theorist and an earnest
dogmatist. Although Zeno and Epicurus cared very little
for abstract science, they recognized its importance for life.
According to the Stoics, who differ from the Cynics in this
respect, science teaches us to recognize Providence in
nature and in history, to respect its authority, and to follow

1 [For Cicero (edition of TForts-, p. 7), see Krische, Forschumjen ;
Ilerbart, Ueher die PJdlosophie des Cicero ( Works, vol. XII., pp. 167-
18-2) ; Hirzel, Untersuchungen zu Cicero's pMlosopJtischen Schriften,
3 Parts, Lriipsic, 1877-83; Schmekel, Die Philosoplne der mitileren
Stoa, pp. 18-184 ; H. Duraud de Laiir, Moucement de la pensee philosn-
pliique depuis Ciceron Juxqu'a Tacite, V ersailles, 187-4 ; for Seneca
(edition of Works, p. 7) see : F. Clir. Baar, Se7ieca und Paulus, in Drei
Abliandlungen zur GescUchte der alien Philosoplne, ed. by Zeller, 1875 ;
W. Ribbeck, L. A. Seneca der Philosoph, etc., Hanover, 1887; Light-
foot, St. Paul's Epistle to the Phi/ippians, 4th ed., London, 1878. For
Epictetus : ed. of the £^iaTpif:iai and 'Eyxetpi8iov by Schweighauser,
Leipsic, 1799-1800 ; Engl, transl. by T. W. Higginson, Boston, 1865 ;
Bonhofer, op. cit. For Marcus Aurelius : ed. of his Ta els iavrov by
Stich, Leipsic, 1882; Eng. tr. by G. Long; Zeller, Marcus Aurelius
Antoninus, in Vortrdge und Ahhandlungen, pp. 82-107 ; E. Renan,
M. Aurelius et la Jin du monde antique, Paris, 1882; Watson, The Life
ofM. Aurelius, London, 1884. — Tr.]

2 Diog. L., X., IX.; Sextus Emp., Hypol. Pijrrh., L; Ritter and
Preller, pp. 367ff. ; [N. Maccoll, The Greek Sceptics, London and Cam-
bridge, 1869; L. Haas, De philosophorum scepticorwn successionihus,
etc., Wiirzbnrg, 1875; "Waddington, Pyrrho et Pyrrhonisme, Paris,
1877; Hirzel, Untersuchungen zu Ciceros philos. Schriften (op. cit.);
Natorp, Forschungen {op. cit.y\ ; V. Brochard, Les sceptiques Grecs,
work crowned by the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences, Paris,
1887; [Sepp, Pyrrhonische Sludien, Freising, 1893].

SCEPTICAL REACTION. TYRRHONISM 149

its inspirations ; according to the Epicureans, it frees us from
superstition and tlie spiritualistic prejudices wliich destroy
our happiness. Both schools agree that there is a criterion
of truth. Peripatetic dogmatism is opposed by the scepti-
cal reaction which had been inaugurated by Democritus
and Protagoras. Pykeho 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^la ; 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 ti'ue 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 QavriXoyia,
avTi6ecn<i rcov Xojcov). The essence of things is incompre-
hensiljle {aKaToXr^irro'^). Pyrrho's sage refrains from mak-
ing dogmatic statements on either side; he suspends his
judgment as much as possible (iire'x^eiv, eTro;^^;), and be-
wares against taking part in heated discussions. lie
avoids al)solute negation as well as categorical affirmation,
and therefore differs from the dogmatists, who al'firm
knowledge, and the Sophists, who demonstrate its impos-
sibility.

The physician Temon,^ an admirer and friend of P3a-rho
of Elis, puljlished, among other sceptical writings, a satir-
ical poem (Ot StXXot), in which he emj)hasizes the contra-
dictions of the metaphysicians from Thales to the Acad-
emician Arcesilaus. Eusebius lias preserved the fragments
of this work in liis Prccparatiu evaiKjclica. His doctrine

^ I'.orii aliuut ;J<I.").

2 Miill.'icli, Timonis Pliliasii frngmctilti, 1., ]i]). s:' ft',; AVaclisiiiulh,
De Tiinone Plilias'w ccEtv risque s'dloijniiihis G'nicis, Leipsic, IbOU.

150 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

maybe 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 : we 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. Aecesilaus of Pitane,^ the successor of the
scholarch Crates, returns to the Socratic method. He does
not set up a system of his own, but contiiies 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 Enip., Hyp.
Pyrrh. , I. ; Adv. math., VII. ; Hitter and PreUer, pp. 4il ff. [See also,
Hii-zel and Sclimekel, opera citato.']

ACADEMIC SCEPTICISM 151

but the dogmatic opposition of Zeno cbove liim into the
arms of extreme scepticism. Zeno makes clear ideas Qcfyav-
raaiai KaraXijirriKai} the criterion of truth. Arcesihius,
however, calls attention to the many illusions in which the
senses mvolve us. Socrates had said : One thing alone I
know, and that is that I know notliing. Arcesihius 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 CAEisrEADES,^ who
differs in nothing from the Sopliists of the fifth century. He
is an opponent of the Stoics in ethics and religion as well
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 (erepouwo-t?). 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 2'><^'rt of the
whole of things, he is a part of the All and not the
complete, total, and perfect being. If he is infinite, lie
is immutable, immovable, and without modification or

1 215-i:}0. Sources: Diog. L., IV.; Soxtus Emp , ^</f. math.,
VII. ; Ritter and Prellcr, pp. Hi ff. ; Victor Ikochaid, op. cil. ;
Coii.stant Martlia, Le philosnj>liti Cnriicddf {linue den Deux Muiults,
rol. XXIX.). [See also Iliizel and Schinckel.]

152 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

sensation; which means that he is not a living and real
beine'. 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 Avith probabilit}^ {to indavov) in
theory as well as in practice.

Neo-Academic scepticism was superseded among the
scholarchs who 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, Avhich 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 con tradictions involved in it ; wliile em-

SENSATIONALISTIC SCEPTICISM 153

piristic scepticism, the type of modern positivism, appeals
also to a series of physiological and experimental facts. In
liis eight books on Pi/rrhonism, valnable fragments of
which have been preserved by Sextus,^ one of these donbt-
ers, ^ExESiDE:Mrs of Cnossns,^ develops the reasons which
intinenced Pp-rho and induced the author liimself to call
in question the possibility of certain knowledge. These
reasons (rpoiroL i) tottol eiroxris:) are as follows : —

(1) The differences in the organization of sensible be
ino's, 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-
larlv, 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 fruit in ques-
tion may be a simple object, which as such has ncitlier

1 Sext. Emp., IIjip. P'/rrh., I., Diog. L., TX. ; Kitter and Preller,
pp. 481 ff. ; V. Broclianl, op. nl.

2 Born in Cnossu.s in Crete. iEne.sidenm.s (Ati>r]ai8r]fjL0i) prol)al)ly
lived in AU'xamlria at tlic Ix'ginnins of the Cliristian era. [See
Sai.sset, Le Srrpticisme. JEudsideme , Pascul, Kant, 2d ed., Paris, 18G7 ;
>'atorp, oji. cit. — 'l"n.].

154 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

smootnness nor sweetness nor color, but occasions an
impression sui generis in eacli particular sense depend-
ing upon the particular nature of the sense-oi'gan. 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 wliich 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
I'elative 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
also take into account what our own bodies and minds add

SENSATIONALISTIC SCEPTICISM 155

to the sensation. We must note the influence exercised on
sensation by the eye, its tissues and its humors : an object
that is green to my neighbor seems blue to me. Finally,
we must take into consideration the influence of our un-
derstantling, tlie 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 liabit, education, and social and religious
environment. We are accustomed to seeing the sun and are
therefore indifferent to it ; comets, hoAvever, are exceptional
phenomena and consequently produce the most vivid im-
pressions in us. We esteem wliat is rare ; we desjjise the
connnon things, although the latter may have more real
value than the former. For tlie Jew educated in the wor-
sliip of Jehovali, Jupiter is l)ut an idol ; for the Greek, who
has been taught to worsliip Jui)iter, Jehovah is the false
God. Had the Jew been lH)ni a Greek, and the Greek de-
scended from the race of A]>raham, the reverse would
be true. The Jew abstains from l)k)ody sacrifices, be-
cause his religion commands it; the (Jreck has no scruples
wliatever against ilic piactice, lu'causc his priests find
notliing olijectionablc therein. DKfcreiit couiitrics, differ-
ent cusUjuis I It seems as though 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
YEnesideraus, inconceivable for the corporeal 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 eflicient 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 wliich 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 tliird 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 Emiiii'icus, Adv. malli., IX., 220 ff.

SENSATION ALISTIC SCEPTICISM 157

disproved by experience ; on tlie 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 ;
wliich is not true. The sun, for examjjle, sometimes burns,
sometimes warms without burning, and sometimes illumi-
nates the object 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, tliat the real cause is the contact between the solar
rays and the object acted upon. But the contact is exactly
wliat 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. Plence, to be passive means
to be and not to be at the same time ; which is contrar
dictory. Furthermore, the idea of becoming involves an
evident contradiction ; it is absurd to say that clay
Iccomes hard or wax lecomcs soft, for it is assuming that
clay is hard and soft, or wax soft and hard, at the same
moment; it amounts to saying that what is not, is, and
what is, is not. Jlence, no iK'Coming. Hence, also, no
causality. Tlie im])ossibility of causality mt-ans that Ikj-
coming is impossiljlc.

158 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

Agrippa, another sceptic, about a century later than
^nesidemus, also emi^hasizes the relative and sul)jective
character of our conceptions, the discord among philo-
sophers, their predilection for theories, their reasonings
in a circle,^ and the fact that the syllogism cannot give
us certain knowledge, inasmuch as every major premise
is the conclusion of a preceding syllogism, and so on ad
infinitum (j'cgressus in infinituni).

The last and boldest of the Greek sceptics is Sextus
Ejmpiricus, a physician of vast learning, who lived at
Alexandria about the year 300 A. d., and of whom we
have two valuable works : the Fyrrlionic Hyi^otyposes and
the treatise Against the Mathematicians. He turns his at-
tention to science, which, in consequence of its self-evident
principles, offers a final refuge to dogmatism and meta-
})hysics, and maintains the uncertainty, not only of gram-
mar, rhetoric, music, astronomy, and the philosophical
sciences proper, but also of arithmetic and geometry, in
which he discovers the fundamental contradiction that the
line is both extended and composed of inextended points.
Hence no science is certain ; everything is vague, doubt-
ful, and contradictory, both in theory and in method ; in
mathematics as well as in physics, in logic as well as in
ethics. True scepticism, like Pyrrho's, does not even grant
unconditionally that all sciences are uncertain. The cate-
gorical assertion that metaphysics in the Peripatetic sense,
i. e., knowledge of things-in-themselves, is impossible,
stamps one as a dogmatist and metaphysician. This is,
according to the Pyrrhonians, the error in the scepticism
of the New Academy, which is but a negative dogmatism.
The true sceptic refrains from making any absolute judg-
ment whatsoever. His perfect neutrality (eVox^') enables

1 The Stoics, for exami)le. proved the existence of God by the
perfection of the world, and the perfection of the world by the
existence of God.

THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 159

him to realize, if not a state of absolute apathy, at least
that repose and moral equilibrium QfierpoTrddeca^ in which
true happiness consists. The sceptic, like the Stoic and
Epiciu'ean, pursues a practical end above ever3'thing- else,
but the way to reach it is to abstain from ontology. His
system consists in not having a system ; and should the
fancy seize him to advance a dogma, it would be to doubt
his own scepticism.

But by doubting its own conclusions, radical scepticism
abdicated in favor of Academic probabilism.

§ 23. The Scientific Movement *

While pliilosophy was degenerating into barren scepti-
cism, the sciences, wliich had one by one cut loose from the
parent science, cro^ta, made wonderful strides in the Greek
islands of the Mediterranean and in Egypt. jNIathematics
flourished in Eg}^3t at a time when Greece was still steeped
in barbarism. Experimental science, it is true, advanced
but very slowly. It was, like pliilosophy, paralyzed by the
insane delusion that the senses are deceptive and that rea-
son is incapable of rectifying them. Besides, the natural
impatience of the Greeks inclined them to reasoning and
a i^riori 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 mathematical physics, the exact sciences, in a
word, made rapid strides. Tliey alone escaped the destroy-
ing touch of universal scepticism. In si)ite of the attacks
of empiricism, there could be no reasonable doubt of the

1 ^fontucla, Ilbtoire des sciences viatJu'mntiques, especially the first
two vohirnf^s, Paris, 17")8; Delaiiil»r<!, Ilktoire tie I'astrouomie, 7 vols.,
Paris, 1817-2;]; Draper-, History of the Intellecttial Developiinnt in Eu-
rope, N<i\v York, 18'i3 ; Cliaslcs, Aperfu hisforiijue sur I'ariyine et le
de'veloppemrnt ties nu'thmlis en f/i'omi'irie, 2(1 t-d., raris, 1875; [Cantor,
Geschichle der Muthfrndtit, T., Leipsic, 188()].

160 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

truth tliat 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.)
tliat 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, what 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.

On the opposite shore of the Mediterranean arose the city
of Alexandria wliich 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 pupil, 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 tliis 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 pliilologists, a splendid li-
brary, which contained, during the fu'st centuries of our
era, 700,000 volumes. Here Euclid wrote (about 290) his
Elements of Geometry, his treatises on Harmomj, Optics,
and Catoptrics ; here Eratosthenes, the royal librarian under
Ptolemy Pliiladelphus, pui-sued his remarkable astronomi-
cal, geographical, and historical labors ; here ApoUonius of
Perga published his treatises on Conic Sections ; here Arys-
tillus and Timocharus made the observations wliich led to
the discovery of the precession of the equinoxes by the
astronomer Hipparchus ; here Ptolemy wrote the Almagest
(^fxeydXi] avvra^a^, 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, tlic equinoctial j)oints, tlie
solstices, the inequality of climate on the earth's siu'face,
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. Tlie
Hebrew Bibh.- and other books nf Oriental origin were
tiaiislated into Cireek. Buddhists and Jews, Greeks and
Egyptians, mingled together, bringing witli llicin tlie most
diverse fonuM of religion. These conditions led to tlio

162 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

development of comparative 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 centi-alizing power
of Rome. From that time on, the Greek genius showed
unmistakable signs of decay. Literature and art declined
rapidly. Pliilosophy 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 ethics, which ought to have taken the
place of religion, wavered between the trivialities of Epi-
cureanism and the Utopias of the 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 archeology, 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

^ Soin-ces : Suidas, the Treatises of Philo the Jew, Plutarch, and
Apuleius ; Eusebius, Prcej). evangelica, XI., XV., etc.

ECLECTICISM 163

national and exclusive form, it proved ineffective. But
when Philo of Alexandria ^ attempted to reconcile the
teacliings of Moses and Plato, and Jesus and liis apostle,
Paul of Tarsus, divested Judaism of its national garb,
there was no further obstacle to its progress in the Grseco-
Roman world. Public opinion had long ago inclined
towards monotheism. Peripateticism and lloman 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 sucli as desired the coming of a better world (/Sacn-
Xeta Tou 6eov). Hence it became a formidable adversary,
before whom it was necessary to close the ranks and firmly
reunite the disjecta membra of ancient pliilosoi^hy.

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

^ A Jewish theologian, a contemporary of Jesus. 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 Xoyof (the Word, as the revelation of God, tlie Son of
God, the second God) has passed into Christianity (The Gospel ac-
cording to St. John, chap. I.). Philonis Judcei opera omnia, ed. llieliter,
4 vols., Leipsic, 1828-30; [P. AVendland, Neuentdeckte Fraijmente
Philos, Berlin, 1891; (Jfrbrer, Philon und die alexandrinische Theo-
sophie, Stuttgart, 1831, 2d ed., 1835; Diiline, Gescliichtliche Darstellung
der jUdisch-alexandriuischen Religionxphilosophie, Ilalle, 1831 ; AVolff,
Die pJiilonische Philomphie, 2d ed., Gothenl)urg, 1858 ; lldvillo, Le
logos d'apres Philon d'AlexandrJe, (Jencva, 1877; M. Ilcinze, Die Lehre
vom Logos, etc., Oldenhmg, 1872: James 1h-\unmon(\, Philo-Judfeus,
etc., London, 1888; Schurer, Geschichle dcs Jiidischen Volks imZeitulter
Jesu Christi, 2d ed. ; Kng. trans. History of the Jewish People, etc., 5
vols., Xew York, 1891. — Tit.].

164 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

pantheistic conception of a supreme and unique principle,
embod3dng itself in a number of secondary divinities.
This conception passed into monotheism and found expres-
sion in the eons of the Clnistian Gnostics, the sephiroth of
the Jewish cahalists, 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 his 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, whicli 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 -without matter ; and if matter is
the soui'ce of evil, then every corporeal being is sinful.
Hence follow the necessity of sin and the obligation on
part of the sage to mortify the body by ascetic practices
and abstinences. The Christian belief in the resurrection
of the flesh is opposed by the Platonic dogma of the im-
mortality of the soul apart from the bod}^ ; creation ex
niJiilo, by the conception of the pre-existence of souls and
the eternity of matter.

Nevertheless, the greatest concessions were made to the
enemy. Provided he consented to place Orpheus, Pytha-
goras, and Plato in the same category with Moses, Isaiah,
and St. Paul, and recognized the thinkers of ancient Greece
as the organs of the eternal X0709, lie was oifered the hand
of friendship. All religions were held to be akin to each

ECLECTICISM 165

other, and conceived as products of a primitive revelation
moditied in various ways by differences in nationality.
The most liberal thinkers, men like Moderatus, Nicoma-
chus, and Numenius, loved to call Moses the Jewish
Plato, and Plato the Attic Moses (Mojua-?}? cittikc^oov).
But with the exception of a few Cluistian 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 di'awn them from
the Bible.

Greek pliilosophy 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, who were as tolerant as they were learned, the
Christians, following the example of Judaism, recognized
no other pliilosophy than Biblical exegesis, no other cri-
terion of the truth of a doctrme than its agreement with
revelation, as set forth in Scri^^ture. Hence it was neces-
sar}^ to apj^eal 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
tlie unusual ardor with wliich the philosophers of tlie peiiod
studied the texts of their predecessors, particularly those of
Plato and Aristotle. Indeed, their enthusiasm degenerated
into a veritable fetichism of the letter, Avhich 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 phrase and eveiy
word was considered insj)irod. 'J'lie pliilologists, gram-

1 Tlie genuine ■writings of the ancient jdiilosuiiliers ditl not suffice,
hence the Orphicx, tlie Books nf Hermes, tha Clialilean Oracles, etc , were
manufactured. This is the golden age of apocryphal 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 thought 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 the
interpretation of Aristotle.

Among some, literalism gave rise to the strangest super-
stitions. Plutarch ^ of Chseronea 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 kno\vn) of the
Neo-Platonic school of Alexandria,^ Longinus, the sup-
posed author of the treatise On the Sicblime^ 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 pliilosophy 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 ft. ; transl. of Morals,
ed. by Goodwin, 5 vols., Boston, 1870; R. Volkmann, Leben, Schriflen
unci Philosophie des Plutarch, 2 pts., Berlin, 1872.] — Tr.

2 [ Works, ed. by Goldbacher, Vienna, 1876. See Prantl, Geschichte
der Locjik, I., pp. 578-591. — Tr.]

3 [Ritter and Preller, -pV- ^^'^ ^- '■> flatter, Sur Vecole d'AIexandrie,
Paris, 1820, 2d ed., 1840-48]; Jules Simon, Histoire de I'ecole d'AIex-
andrie, 2 vols., 1844-1845 ; Vacherot, Histoire critique de Vecole d'AIex-
andrie, 3 vols. Paris, 1846-51.

FLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM 167

§ 25. Plotinus and Neo-Platonism

Plotinus 1 of Lycopolis in Egypt, a clisciple of Ammo-
nius Saccas of Alexandria, came to Rome about 244, and
taught pliilosophy for twenty-five years. The school which
he foiuided 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 pliilosoj^hy, science, and literature. Countless com-
mentaries were written on the Attic pliilosophers ; they
were even worshipped as Jesus, the apostles, and the
martyrs were worshipped by the Christian community,
which 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 U2:ton 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-absor2:)tion : sensible perception, reasoning,
mystical intuition. Let us consider, with the author,
(1) tlie principle, and (2) the three stages in the hierarchy
of beings.

1 [Complete odition of the Works of Plotinus with the Latin trans-
lation of IVIarsilius Ficinus, pul)]ishecl l)y Wyltenbach, ]\Ioser, and
Creuzer, 3 quarto vols., Oxford, 1835 ; by Creuzer and Moser, Paris,
1855 ; by A. Kirchhoff, Leipsic, 185G. Ritter and Preller, pp. 517 ff.
Engl, transl. of parts by Th. Taylor, London, 1787, 1794, 1817;
French transl. and eoninicntary by Pouillct, 3 vols., Paris, lS.")(i-0().
SeeC. IL Kircliner, I>ie P/il/osophie drs P/olin, Halle, 1851 ; A. Kiclilcr,
Npuplatojibrhr. S/udirn, 5 pis., Malle, lS(il— 07; Ilarnaok, Article in
E»ri/rlo/>e<H(i Britannica, on Nio-Platonlxm; Walter, Geschtchte der Acs-
Uielilc in Allr.rlhum, pp. 730-780,] — Tu.

168 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

I. God. — Every being is composed of matter and form,
God (the One, the Form) and matter (uX?;) are the consti-
tutive principles, and, as it were, the two j^oles of the uni-
verse. God is the Svva/xi'i wliich produces everything, the
active power; matter, the 8vm/xi<; which suffers everything,
becomes everything, and is infinitely modified ; it is the
opposite of the absolute ivepyeia. 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 thinking and intelligent being itself, the
principle, the measure, and tlie end of all things (Travrav
ixerpov Kol Trepa?), 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 wliich makes us see all
things, and which consequently we do not, ordinaril}-, dis-
tinguish from the things themselves ; it is the principle
of goodness, the highest good, without being goocU 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
liim. 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 ; he transcends the unconscious as well as the
conscious ; the opposition 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 liimself, 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 suj)erior to free-will, which
wavers between opposing notions, and to corporeal beings,
which are impelled by a foreign power. Inasmuch as every
quality assigned to him limits him, we must refrain from
giving him attributes ; he is both everytlung and nothing
imaginable. To attribute or to give to him any tiling what-
ever, means to deprive 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 we can
say of God is that he transcends everything that can be con-
ceived and said. Strictly speaking, we cannot even affu-m
that he exists^ for he transcends existence itself. He is the
highest abstraction, and we cannot reach him except by
means of an absolute and radical abstraction. We cannot
even conceive Ideas without abstracting from the sensible
data ; noAV, since God is as far su})erior to Ideas as these
are to sensible things, we must, iji order to reach God, ab-
stract from all Ideas. After thought has arrived at this
heig]it, it must push away tlie ladder which helped it rise,
and abandon itself to meditation ; it becomes contenq)lation
or adoration. To attcnipi to define God cither in thought
or in language means to lose liiin.

Plato's God is superior to being,' l)ut not to the Idea;
he is the king of Ideas and the Idea as sucli ; he is acces-
sible to reason. Tlic God of N(!o-I*lalonisiii is superior

' itrpuh., VI., '){)[).

170 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

even to the Idea,^ and therefore eludes thonght (eireKeLva
vo7](Teco<i} . Consequently, there is an undeniable difference
between the two systems. We have no right, however,
to exaggerate this difference and to bring Plotinus the
mystic in opposition 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 tln-ough all the interven-
ing stages between vulgar opinion {86^a) and philosophical
knowledge Qyvoi(n<i). 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 philosophy 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 goochiess, 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
(eTncTrpo^rf). 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
hvvajJLi'i^ to God, the absolute ivepjeia. If the world is a

^ Plotinus, it must be added, is not ahvays 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 Tiynmis, 29 E.

PLOTmUS AKD KEO-PLATONISINI. 171

system of harmony, it is because all things converge toward
the same absolute. The return of being to its divine source
is made possible through thought, contemplation, intuition
(Oecopla)^ 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 practical 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 the 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 (aadeveLa ^ew/Jia?). Contemplation is
not only the final goal of life, but life itself (e/c decopia^ koI
Oecopia icTTi^. Animals, plants, nay, everything in exist-
ence are endowed Avith 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 first 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,
tlie absolute unity of God splits up into intelligence proper
(voO?) and the intelligible world (/cocryu.09 yo7;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 ; tlie voik and tlie Kdafio<; vo-qro'^ are in each other.

172 GKEEK 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 how of the emanation, is as much of a mystery as God
himself. Whatever rational explanation might be given, it
Avould still be insufficient. If the dyad, it has been said,
comes from 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
and 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
(irpo irdvTcov'), in dignity if not in time. Still, we may
call Inm ttuv, 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 (7re/)tXa/x-v/ri?), 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 (daviJ^a), like God himself.

There are two kinds of Ideas ^ : (1) genera (yepr]), or
general forms of all existing things, viz., being (6V), iden-
tity (rauTOT?;?), difference (erepoTiT;), rest (o-tcio-k:), motion
(^Kivrja-i^'), and (2) specific types of individual beings {eiSr])}
We may conceive all genera as modifications of the only
being, and all specific t}^es as comprehended in a single
being: the universal Tj-pe, or the Idea of the universe
(/coo-^09 vot]r6<i}. Everything that exists in the visible
world has its corresponding Idea or prototype in the in-
1 Enneads, XL, 1-3. ^ i^,, yi., o, 8.

PLOTIXUS 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-
chvidual 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 infuiite 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-
reX&i'). 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 Q^vxv^->^
which is like the yoO? but inferior to it. The fact is,
reason finds its Ideas in itself ; they are its immanent
possession and sul^stance, while the soul must search for
them or ascend to them liy reflection (Sidvoia)., and there-
fore reaches, not the Ideas themselves, but tlieir more or
less adequate images, the simple notions (\070t). 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 become wliat the intellect is a priori ; that is,
intelligent {voepd). Just as there is but one absolute, one
reason, and one intelligible woild, sf) there is, at the bottoni
of all individual souls, but one single soul manifesting
itself in infinitely different forms: the soul of 1 lie world
{'^^XV '^^^ Koafiov). Ivike tlie vov'i, mIucIi contemplates
* Eiincwla, \y.

174 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

the absolute and also produces tlie ■yjrvxv-, tlie 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, wliich
is less perfect than itself, is the body.-'

3. The Bod//. — 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 tliey have ; their matter, what
they lack of reality ; their form is their being ; their mat-
ter their non-being. Corporeal nature {(f>vai'i) 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 {aireipov)^ 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 (o-Tep?;crt<?). 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, beaiity, and goodness are synonymous
1 Enneads, III. 2 7^,^ n.

PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM 175

terms, as are also, on the other liand, pluralit}-, 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
liim 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 wliich 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 (v\t] voi^rrj), 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 would 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 plurality of Ideas,
which are cUstinct 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;
but it is also certain that the mind contains them as plurali-
ties. Now, matter is the very principle of plurality. Hence
it lies at the very basis of the intellect, wliicli, without it,
would be SAvallowed uj) in the absolute unity of (iod.

In order to understand this paradox, whicli is essentially
Platonic, it must be remembered that the matter of Plato,
Aristotle, and Plotinus, is not the matter of the material-
ists, l)nt wliat Scliclling and Schopcidiaucr would call

176 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

will^ or the will-to-be ; it is not body, but the transcendent
substratwn, 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 otlicrncss 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, ^^'hich
Platonism loves to call the infinite, is, in the last analysis,
nothing but infinite potentiality, unlimited productivity,
the creative power of God. The highest ivepyeia is also
the highest Bvva/jii<;. 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, VTTT., 6, 19.

PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONIS.M 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 three 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 tlie 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-
tem})lation 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 memor}^ 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,
wliich constitutes their supreme liappiness.

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 tliem from each
other. The assumption of an earthly body is a fall for

1 Enneails, IL, 3, 0; TIL, T), 6; TV., :5, 8.

2 Cf. St. Taul, First Letter to the Corinthians, XV., 40.

178 GREEK 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 wliich
we can choose, but we choose this simply because we 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, provided 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 wliich 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 ^^^orld
the body opposes them, and that the philosopher welcomes
death.2 The human 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 di^'inity. 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 sensil)le manifestations ; the
lover seeks for it in the human soul ; the philosopher,

1 Cf. p. 46, note 2.

2 Cf. St. Paul, Epistle to tie Philippians, I, 23.
' Enneatis, T., B.

PORPHYRY, JAMBLICHUS, PROCLUS 179

finally, seeks for it in the sphere in wliich it dwells without
alloy, — in the intelligihle 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 admii-ed a royal palace forgets the beauty of the apart-
ments when he perceives the sovereign. For the philoso-
pher, beauty in art, nay, living beauty itself, is but a pale
reflection of absolute beaut}^ 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 joj'S make liim forget, not
only the earth, but Ids own individuality ; he is lost in the
pure intuition of the absolute. His rapture is a union
(eWo-t?) of the human soul Avith the cUvine intellect, an
ecstasy, a flight of the soul to its heavenly home.^ As
long as he lives in the body, the pliilosopher 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 beyond
the grave until it is divested of individuality itself, the
last vestige of its eartlily bondage .^

§ 2G. The Last Neo-Platonic Polytheists. Porphyry,
Jamblichus, Proclus

1. Ph)tiiius Avas succeeded in the Neo-Platonic school at
Rr)me by his friend Malchus or PnRPiTYrvY,^ a native Plire-
nician, who publislied the Erinrnds. Porphyry is still more
convinced than liis master of the identity of the doctrines
of the Academy and the T,yceum. Although much inferior
to Plotinus, on whom his teachings essentially dejx'nd, he,

» Enneads, V., 5, 10. « Id., IV., 3, 32. » Died at Roiuo, 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
liis Introduction to the Oater/uries of Aristotle.^ Indeed, the
question whether genera and species are realities apart
from the thouglit wliich 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
tliinkers since the days of Xenophanes. But among their
successors the search for truth is gradually subordinated to
the interests of religion and apologetics. After ten cent-
uries of opposition against traditional religion, philosophy
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 w^as 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 Ecdesice. To promote

1 PorplHjriide quinque vocihm, sice in categorias Aristotelis inirodiictio
(eiVaywy^), Paris, 15i3 ; Latin translation, Venice, 1546, 1506. We also
have of Porphyry a Life of Protagoras, 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 Mgyptinrum, ascribed to Jamblichus ; [Ritter and Preller,
pp. 541 ff.] ; N. Bouillet, Porphi/re, son role dans Ve'cole ne'oplatonicienne,
etc. Paris, 1864; Adrien ']s&v\\\e, Julien V Apostat et la philosopTiie du
polytheisme, Paris and Neuchatel, 1877. See, besides, the works quoted
on p. 166.

PORPHYRY, JAIVIBLICHUS, PROCLUS 181

polytheism, to promote it at all hazards : such Avas the
desperate task undertaken by lier. Henceforth she re-
gards everything in paganism 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 cliildhood.

The death-struggle is, however, broken by lucid mo-
ments. Among the few sui'viving defenders of the dying
polytheistic 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 380), tlie 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
Proclns of Byzantium (412-485), wdio taught at Athens
and occupied a position between the school of Rome and
Jamblichus, of whom he was an enthusiastic admirer.

2. Jamblichus ^ draws liis inspiration from the specula-
tions of non-Christian literature, from Pythagoras, Plato,
the religious tratUtions of the Orient and Egypt, and
especially from his sacred triple ternary. His mathemati-
cal genius and Inilliant imagination enable him to under-
take a philosophical reconstruction of the pagan Pantheon.
Tlic gods emanate from tlic dcjjths of the unspeakable
unity in ternary series, and form a triple halo, as it were,

1 De vita Ptjlhagorce ; Protrepticce oraliones ad philo.tnphiam ; De
tnysteriis A^r/pliorum (Creek and Latin ed. liy Tli. (iale, Oxford,
1078; by (i. ParUu'V, Bfiilin, IB."). Oilier soiux-os : Proclus, In
Timcpum; Suidas; [Kilter and Preller, pp. nili if.]; IlelxMistrcit, Dc
Jamhilchi, jifiilosoplii Si/ri, doctrina, etc., Lei)),sic, ITUl. [Knj;l. tr. of
Life of Pifthngorus, by Taylor, London, 1818 ; E<jyplian Mysteries,
Chiswick,'l82i.j

X82 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

around the Monad of monads. He opposes the Christian
conception of the God-man and exaggerates the theological
spiritualism of Plotinus hy declaring the absolute to be
non-covwiunicaUe (a/xedeKTO'i). 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 (evaSa) eman-
atino- from it. These beings are also transcendent (virep-
ovaiai), but plural. This hierarchy of derived gods is
divided into three stages : intellectual gods {voepoi)^ supra-
mundane gods [vTrepKoafiiOL), and the immanent gods of
the world (^ejKoafiLot'). We come into communication
only with thesfe gods (the Ideas of Plato, the Numbers of
Pythagoras, the substantial Forms of Aristotle) ; they are
our Providence. The absolute has no share in the gover-
nance of things.

3. Pkoclus ^ derives the priestly characteristics of liis
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 (a/^iedeKTos) unity: first, being
(oV), i. e., the infinite {airetpov), the end or form (Trcpa?), and
their unity, the finite (/juktop, ireirepaaixevov) : secondly,
life (^ft)?;), i. e., potentiality (Svvafjn^'), existence (yTrap^t?),
and their unity, intelligible life (^ft)^ vojjt/]) ; thirdly, intel-
ligence (yoO?), i. e., static thought (^fxeveiv'), thought in
motion or perception (irpoLevaC), and their unity, reflective

1 Works of Proclus : In theologiam P/a/o?; i>,libri VI. ; Instiiutw theo-
logica ; In Platonis Timmum, etc. Prodi opera omnia, ed. V. Cousin,
Paris, 1819-27, 2d ed. in 6 vols., 1864 ; [Ritter and PreUer, pp. 5.56 ff.].
See on Proclus : Marinus, Vita Prodi; Suidas ; Berger, Produs, expo-
sition de sa doctrine, Paris, 1810 ; J. Simon, Du Commentaire de Produs
sur le Time'e de Platon, Paris, 1839; C. 11. Kirchner, De Prodi neo-
platonid metaphijsica, Berlin, 1846. See also concerning Jamblicluis
and Proclus the histories of the Alexandrian school mentioned on
page 166.

PORPHYRY, JAMBLICHUS, PROCLUS 183

thought (^eTTLarpocf)^'). Each of these three triads^ reveals
to those initiated into pliilosophy (^/xva-nKW^ one of the
aspects of the first and supra-intelligible cause : fii'st, his
unspeakable unity ; secondly, his inexhaustible fertility
(vTrepoxyf) ; thirdly, his infinite perfection. These are the
emanations of the absolute. The absolute in itself is
superior to being and even to thought, as the principle is
superior to its consequence and the cause to its eifect, and
therefore forever unknowable. Whatever is supernatural
in its essence can be reached only by supernatural means ;
theurgy 2 alone can reveal it to the initiated. Knowledge
is confined to the intelligible sphere and needs the realities
of religion in order to attain to the supra-intelligible.

Tills is, in language freed from senile pedantry, the last
word of Neo-Platonic metaphysics, " the last will and testa-
ment " of antique thought. From the ontological point of
view and compared with primitive Platonism, Neo-Pla-
tonism would be an advance in the monistic direction, if it
had been content to subordinate the Idea to a higher prin-
ciple containing both being and thought.^ But its oppo-
sition to Clu-istianity, the fundamental dogma ^ of which
assumes the communicalility of the divine, impelled it
wantonly to exaggerate the transcendency of this supreme
principle ; which was precisely the chief defect of Platon-
ism. And how much inferior it is to Platonism fiom the
ethical and religious point of view ! Proclus looks upon
the practice of magic as the essence of religion ; for Plato
religion means the 2^f^(:icticc of justice. There is as great a
difference between these two conceptions as between ma-
ture, enlightened, and vigorous manhood and decrepit and
superstitious old age.

1 Cf. the triple triad in the system of Hegel.

^ Qfovpyia, (pyov roii 6fov, manifestation of the divine power.

• Tlif! irill of concrete spiritualism.

■• 'J'lie docrnia of the incarnation.

184 GREEK PHILOSOPHY

In 529 the last refuge of polytheistic Neo-Platonism, the
school at Athens where Proclus had taught/ was closed by
order of the Emperor Justinian. The- public manifested
such indifference towards these ruins of the past, that the
edict was scarcely noticed. Christianity had taken pos-
session of the empire two centuries ago ; the concrete and
thrilling questions of religion, wliich is a product of the
will, and the troubles caused by the invasions of the bar-
barians, superseded the serene and peaceful Oawpia.

^ The last scholarchs are : Marinus of Flavia Neapolis in Pales-
tine, the successor of Proclus, Isidore of Alexandria^ and Zeno-
dotus and Damascius of Damas (Quiestiones de primis principiis, ed.
Kopp, Francf., 1826). The school was closed while the latter was
at its head. With the school of Athens is connected the name of the
Cilician Simplicius, the excellent commentator of Epictetus and Aris-
totle (Categories, De anima, De calo, and Physics), who was a fellow,
student and af terwai-ds a pupil and companion in exile of Damasciu>>-

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES
FIRST PERIOD

REIGX OF PLATONIC^CHRISTIAN^ THEOLOGY
§ 27. Christian Platonism^

The breath of expiring Hellenism passed into Chris-
tianity. The doctrines of Plato and his latest interpreters
continued to influence the ablest thinkers among the fol-
lowers of the Gospel, and the philosophy of the Church
during the entire ]\Iiddle Ages merely re-echoes the teach-
ings of the great Athenian philosopliers.

In the cosmopolitan city of Alexandria, where the Greek
mind came in contact with the Semitic genius, there was

1 For Patristic speculation, consult the general histories of philo-
sophy, the Church histories, and the works mentioned on page 10 ;
[Collection of the works of the Fathers, Patrum Aposlnllcorwn Opera,
ed. by O. de Gerhardt, A. Ilarnack, and Th. Zahn, Leipsic, 1875 ff.;
Eng. trans.. Library of Xicene and Post-Xicene Fathers, ed. Schaff
and Wace; Moller, Lehrbuch der Kirchengeschichte (vol. I., Die alte
Kirche, Freiburg, i. B., 1889) ; A. Ilarnack, Geschichte der altchrist-
lichen Litterafur bis Emebim, Part L, Leipsic, 1893. — Tr.] For the
systems classified under heretical Gnosticism, see [Neandcr, Gene-
tuicke Enlicickelung der vornehmlen gnoslischen Si/stterne, Berlin, 1818;
Engl. tr. by Ton-ey, Boston, 180.5] ; J. Matter, Hisfoire criti/jue du
(jnoMicisme, .3 vols., Paris, 182-3; 2d ed., 1843; F. Chr. Baur, Die chrlst-
liche Gnosh, Tubingen, 1835; [Lipsius Der Gnoaliciamua, etc., Leipsic,
1800 : W. Moller, Geschichte der Kosmnlof/ie in der (jricchischen Kirche
bii auf Orirjeries, Halle, ISOO, pp. 189-473; H. L. Mansel, The Gnostic
Heresies, etc., London, 1H75. — Tr.]

186 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

formed, at the beginning of the third century, a kind of
Chi'istian Neo-Platonic schooL The Latin Fathers, Ter-
tullian,^ Arnobius, and Lactantius,^ rejected philosophy as
a heathen product, contact with wliich must be avoided.
The Greek and Egyptian Fathers, however, never ceased
to cultivate it. Indeed, the attacks cUrected against the
Gospel by philosophy itself compelled them to study it.
Owing to the successful pressure thus exerted, the Christ-
ian faith was reduced to dogma {Soj/jlo) ; it was formu-
lated and systematized. The authors of the dogmas had to
'philosophize in spite of themselves and in self-defence, so to
speak. Some of them went so far as to regard the teach-
ings of the heathen sages as divine rcAelalions similar to
the Gospel. Plato was the only philosopher A^•ho received
serious consideration. The school of Alexancbia tauglit
an essentially religious })hilosophy, differing in this respect
from the other schools, wliich were, for tlie most part, scep-
tical. One could not but recognize certain similarities
between Plato and Christianity; but how was this rela-
tionship, which sometimes amounted to identity, to be
explained ? Some — and they were in the majority —
believed that Plato had cbawn from the writings of
the Old Testament. The enlightened minority concluded
that the philosophers worthy of the name must have
been inspired by tlie same divine reason (Xo'709) wliich
revealed itself in Jesus of Nazareth. Still others had re-
course to both hj^potheses. Justin the INIartyr, the author
of an Apology of Christianity, assumes that the Xoyo^ is

^ TertulL, De prcescript. hcer., c. 7; Apol., c. 47; Adv. Marcion.,Y .,
19. The Credo quia absurdum of Tertullian is to be taken literally.
If reason has become deceptive in consequence of the Fall, it is evi-
dent that a doctrine contradicting it (an absurd doctrine) has more
chances of being true than one conforming to it. Nothing is more
logical than the challenge which this distinguished theologian hurls at
reason.

* Lact., Div. instit; III., 1.

CHEISTIAN PLATONISM 187

universal in its operation, and claims eternal happiness for
Socrates, Heraclitus, and, in general, for those among the
heathen, Avho, though not knowing Jesus, lived according
to Keason.^ Athenagoras, the author of the treatise On
the Resurrection of the Dead, Tatian the Apologist, St.
Clement of Alexandria, and his chsciple Origen, all express
Neo-Platonic conceptions in their A^ritings. The apostles,
says Origen,^ have set forth the fundamental doctrines of
the faith in a manner capable of being understood by the
ignorant and the learned alike, leaving it to such among
their successors as were endowed with the Spirit to ths-
cover the reasons for their assertions. Origen consequently
makes a chstinction between the popular and the scientific
manner of expressing the Christian faith, between the form
it assumes in the writings of the apostles and the form in
which it must be conceived by the Christian pliilosopher :
a distinction which forms the basis of Scholastic rational-
ism. Finally, Athanasius, Basil the Great, Gregory of
N3'ssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, and among the Latin Fathers
(most of whom were hostile to philosoph}-), Augustine,
were directly or indirectly influenced by Academic and
Alexandrian teachings.

It would be impossible to enter upon a detailed study
of the Patristic doctrines without encroaching upon the
domain of pure theology ; hence it will be enough for our
special purpose to explain the philosophy of Augustine,
whose writings form the connecting link between Greek
thought and Scholastic speculation.

^ Apolor/J/, TI., p. 83 : Ti)v Xpia-Tuv irjiUiTi'iTOKov tov dtov (ivai (8i8dx0rilJ-(v,
Koi 7vp'jffxr]Vv<T<ni(V \6yov oura ov t,uv ytVoy duOpunrtou fifT((T)(f ' kui ol fiera
Xoyov jiiuxravTfi ■x^piaTinvo'i fieri-, Kav tidfoi (wofiia-drjaav, olou fv"E\\q(ri [lev
SooK/juTT^f Koi H/ju((X«trof k(u aK\oi iroXXoi.

2 De princ'qnis, rreface. J. Dtiiiis, De la philosuphie d'Orighie, I'aiis,
1884.

188 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

§ 28. St. Augustine

After a youth of dissipation, the rhetorician Aurelius
AuGUSTiNUS of Thagaste, Africa, (354-430), embraced the
religion of his mother. He united in his soul a deep love
of Christ and an ardent zeal for philosophy, although,
after becoming Bishop of Hippo, he gradually favored an
absolute submission to the religious authority rei^resented
by him. His writings, the most important of which are
the Confessions and the City of G-od,^ have left a deep
impress upon the doctrines and the entire literature of
the Roman Church.

For him as for Plato, science means a purer, clearer,
more exalted life, the life of the thinker.^ Reason is
capable of comprehending God (cajjahilis) -, for God has
given it to us in order that we may know all tilings and
consequently God.^ To philosophize is to see truth directly
and without the intervention of the eyes of the body. Rea-
son is the eye of the soul. Wisdom is the highest truth
after which we should strive. Now, what is wisdom but
God ? To have wisdom means to have God. True philo-
sophy is therefore identical with true religion : * both have
the same strivings for the eternal. Why should God de-
spise Reason, his first-born Son, — Reason, wliich is God

1 Other writings of St. Augustine : De libera arhitrio ; De vera reli-
gione; De immortalitate animce ; De prcedestinatione et gratia ; Retractiones ;
"etc. Worlcs of St. Augustine, Paris, 1835, ft. ; [vols. XXXIT.-XLVIL
of Migne's collection; tr. ed. by Dods, 15 vols., Edinburgh, 1871-77,
also in Scliaff's library, Nicene and Post-Xicene Fathers, vols. L-VIII.,
Buffalo, 1886-88. See Bindemann, Der lieilige Augustinus, .3 vols.,
Berlin, etc., 1844-69; A. Dorner, Augustinus, etc., Berlin, 1873; Bohr-
inger, Geschichte der Kirche Chri>^ti (vol. XL), 2d ed., Zurich, 1861;
Xeander, Allgemeiiie Geschichte der Religion, etc. (II., 1, 2), 8d ed.,
Gotha, 1850; Eng. tr. by J. Torrey. — Tr.]; Ferraz, La psijchologie
de Saint Angus! in, Paris, 1863.

2 De libera arbitrio, I., 7. « Id., II., 3, 6. * De vera religione, 5.

ST. AUGUSTINE 189

himself ! He gave it to us in order to make us more per-
fect than other beings. Nay, fuith, which some oppose
to reason, is possible only to a being endowed with reason.
Chronologically, faith precedes intelligence : in order to
understand a tiling we must first believe it, — credo ut
iiitdligam. However, though faith is a condition of
knowledge, it is nevertheless a provisional state, infe-
rior to knowledge, and ultimately resolves itself into it.
The theocUcy of St. Augustine is essentially Platonic,
and at times even aj)proaches the boldest conceptions of
the school of Alexandiia. God is the being beyond whom,
outside of whom, and without whom, nothing exists ; he is
the being below whom, in and through whom, everything
exists that has reality ; he is the beginning, the middle,
and the end of all things.^ Goodness, justice, and wis-
dom are not accidental attributes of God, but his innermost
essence. The same is true of his metaphysical attributes.
Omnipotence, omnipresence, and eternity are not mere acci-
dents of the Divine Being, but his divine essence. God is
substantially omnipresent, without, however, being every-
thing ; everything is in him, though he is not the All. He
is good and yet without quality ; he is great, without being
a quantity; he is the creator of intelligence and yet supe-
rior to it ; he is present everj^where, without being bound to
any place ; he exists and yet is nowhere ; he lives eternally
and yet is not in time ; he is the principle of all change
and yet immutable. In speculating about God, reason is
necessarily involved in a series of antinomies ; it states
what he is not, without arriving at any definite conclu-
sion as to liis nature; it conceives him, — in this sense it
is capable of him (capahilis'), — but it cannot comprehend
him in tlie fullness of liis perfection. Tlie imj)ortant point
is to distinguish carefully between God and tlic woild. St.
Augustine, whose conceptions closely bordei' \\\Hm panthe-

1 SnUlnrj., T., 3-1.

190 nilLOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

ism, us the preceding shows, escapes it by his doctrine of
creation ex nihilo.^ If the universe has emanated from
God, then it is itself of divine essence and identical with
God. Hence, it is not an emanation but was created by an
act of divine freedom. God is not the soul of the world ;
the world is not the body of God, as the Stoics held. The
immanency of God in the world would be contrary to the
divine majesty .^

Some falsely interpret the doctrine of the Trinity in the
tritheistic or polytheistic sense. Here lies another danger.
The tlu-ee hypostases, although distinct, constitute but one
and the same God, just as reason, will, and the emotions
form but one and the same human being.^ St. Augustine's
criticisms on Arianism are very profound. What do you
mean, he demands of the Arians, by assuming that the Son
created the world at the command of the Father ? Do you
not thereby assert that God the Father did not create the
world, but simply ordered a demiurge to create it ? What
is the Son if not the word of God, and what is a command
if not an act of speech ? Hence, God commanded the Son
through the Son to create the world. What a strange and
absurd conclusion ! Arianism errs in that it desires to pie-
ture the Trinity to itself ; it imagines two beings placed
very near to each other; each one, however, occupying
his particular place ; and one of them commands, while the
other obeys. Arianism should have seen that the com-
mand by means of which God created the world out of
nothing simply means the creative Word itself. God is
a spirit, and we should not and cannot form an image
of the immaterial.*

Inasmuch as God created the world b}' an act of free-
dom, we must assume that the world had a beginning ; for

^ De libero arbitrio, L, 2. ^ j)g ciritate Dei, IV., 12.

^ De trinitate, IX., 3 ; X., 11. * Contra serm. avian.

ST. AUGUSTINE 1^1

eternal creation, the conception of Origen and the Neo-
Platonists, is sj-nonyinous with emanation. Philoso^jhers
raise the objection that creation in time would imply an
eternity of inaction on part of the Creator ; but they
are wrong. Their error consists in considering the eter-
nit}' which i^rcccdcd creation as an infinitely-long dura-
tion. Duration is time. Now, outside of creation there
is neither space, nor time, nor, consequently, duration,^
Time or duration is the measure of motion ; where there
is no movement there is no duration. Since there is no
movement in eternity and in God, there is no duration in
him, and time, as Plato aptly remarks, begins only with
movement, that is, with the existence of finite things.
Hence, it is incorrect to say that the God of the Clu-is-
tians cUd not create things until after an infinite series of
intinitely-long periods of absolute inaction. Moreover, St.
Augustine recognizes the difficulty of conceiving God
without the universe. On this point, as well as on many
others, Augustine the philosopher conflicts witli Augustine
the Christian. This constant discord between his faith and
his reason leads to numerous inconsistencies and contradic-
tions. God, for example, created the world by an act of
his free-will, and yet creation is not the result of caprice
but of an eternal and immutable decree.^ It is immaterial
whether the immutal)le will of God compels liim to create
the world at a fixed period of time or whether it eternally
compels him to do it; in either case we have absolute de-
termination. St. Augustine i-oalizes this, and eventually
uiireservedl}^ declares that divine freedom is the princi])le
and supreme norm of things. Since llie di\ine will is the
idtimate prineiple. tliau wliieh there is nothing higher, it
is useless and absurd to inquire into the final cause of

» Confes^x., XI , U ft. ; De civ. Del, XL, 4-G.
2 De'cio. Del, Xlb, 17.

192 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

creation.^ God called other beings than himself into ex-
istence, because he willed to do so. Human reason has no
right to go fartlier than that. All it may do is to ask itself
the question : Why did God make things so different from
each other and so unequal ? St. Augustine answers, with
Plato, that the diversity of the parts is the condition of the
unity of the whole.

The existence of the soul is proved by thought, con-
sciousness, and memory. You are in doubt about your
existence, are you? But to doubt means to think, does
it not? and to think is to exist, is it not?^ It is more
difficult to say what the soul is. According to some, it is
lire or fine air or the fifth element, possessing the property
of thought, understanding, and memory ; others identify it
with the brain or the blood, and make thought an effect of
the organization of the body. But these are mere hypo-
theses, disproved by the simple fact that we are not con-
scious of any of these substances constituting the soul. If
we were made of fire or of air or of any other material, we
should know it by an immediate perception which would
be inseparable from our self-consciousness. The soul is a
substance differing from all known matter as well as from
matter in general ; for it contains notions of the point,
the line, length, breadth, and other conceptions, all of
which are absolutely incorporeal.^

Granting this, what shall we say of the origin of the
soul? There are thinkers, even among the Christians,
who conceive it as emanating from God. That, however,
does it too much honor. It is a creature of God, and has
had a beginning, like every other creature.'' However,

1 Qucesf. (liv., quccst., 28. The same views are held by the pantheist
Spinoza, the atheist Schopenhauer ( Welt ah Wille, II., Epiphilosophie),
and Claude Bernard (quoted by the Revue chredenne, March, 1869,
p. 1.38).

2 This is the cogito ergo sum of Descartes.

• De quantitate animce, 13. * Epistle 157.

ST. AUGUSTINE 193

even among those who on principle assume that the soul
is a creature, opinions differ as to the mode of its creation.
Some hold that God directly created only the soul of Adam
and that the souls of other men are produced per traducem.
This theory (which undoubtedly favors St. Augustine's
doctrine concerning the transmission of Adam's sin to his
descendants) is materialistic, for it considers the soul as
capable of being communicated and divided. Others main-
tain that souls were created, but existed before bodies ;
they were not introduced into them until after the Fall ;
the object of their captivity being the expiation of the
errors of a previous life. This doctrine^, wliich Plato
holds, is disproved by the fact that we have not the slight-
est recollection of any such state of pre-existence. Plato
finds that even illiterate persons will, upon proper ques-
tioning, assert great mathematical trutlis, and concludes
therefrom that such persons existed prior to the present,
and that the ideas aroused in theii' minds by our inquiries
are but reminiscences. But his hypothesis loses its force
when we remember that such ideas may be developed by
the Socratic method in all minds endowed with common
sense. If they are reminiscences, it would have to be
assumed that all men were geometricians and mathema-
ticians in their pre-existent state ; which, judging from
the small number of transcendental mathematicians among
the human race, seems very improbable. Plato's argument
in favor of pre-existence would perhaps have more weight in
case great mathematical truths could ])e extracted only from
a few minds. Finally, there is a third conception, accord-
ing to which souls are created as soon as bodies are created.
This theory is more in line with spiritualistic principles,
although it is not so good a su2)port for the dogma of
original sin as the others.

Tlie immoitality of the soul necessarily follows from its
rational nature. Reason brings the soul into immediate

194 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

communion with eternal truth ; indeed, the soul and truth
constitute but one and the same substance, as it were. The
death of the soul would mean its utter se^Daration from
truth; but what finite being would be powerful enough
to produce such a violent rupture ? and why should God,
who is truth personified, produce it? Are not thought,
meditation, and the contemplation of divine things inde-
pendent of the senses, independent of the body and of
matter? Hence, Avhen the body turns into dust, why
sliould that which is independent of it perish with it?i
In rejecting the notion of pre-existence, St. Augustine
also abandons the theory of innate ideas, or rather, he modi-
fies it. He assumes, with Plato, that when God formed
the human soul, he endowed it with eternal ideas, the
principles and nouns of reason and will. Thus interpreted,
St. Augustine accepts the doctrine of innate ideas. He
denies, however, that these ideas are reminiscences or sur-
vivals of a pre-existent state, and he does so on the ground
that if such a theory were true, we would not be creatures,
but gods. He rejects the doctrine of pre-existence because
it implies an existence that has no beginning. He also be-
comes more and more suspicious of the theory of innate
ideas, because the theory might lead one to conclude that
ideas existed originally in the human soul and were not
implanted a posteriori by a being outside of the soul. St.
Augustine's chief aim is to elevate God by debasing man ;
to represent the latter as a wholly passive being who owes
nothing to himself and everything to God. In the words
of the Apostle : " What hast thou that thou didst not re-
ceive ? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory
as if thou hadst not received it ? " ^ Man as such is the
personification of impotence and nothingness. Whatever
he possesses, he has received from others.

^ De immortalitate animce, I., 4, 6.
^ St. Paul, 1 Corinthians, TV. 7.

ST. AUGUSTINE 195

The human soul is passive, receptive, contemplative, and
nothing more. It receives its knowledge of sensible tilings
through the senses ; it receives its moial and religious no-
tions through the instrumentality of the Spirit. It owes
its conception of the external world to the terrestrial
light surrounthng its body, and its knowledge of celestial
things to the heavenly light which forms its spiritual en-
vii-onment. However, this interior light, which is nothing
but God liimself, is not outside of us ; if it were, God would
be an extended and material being ; it is in us without
being identical with us. In it and tlirough it we perceive
the eternal forms of tilings, or as Plato calls them, the Ideas,
the immutable essences of passing realities. God himself
is the form of all tilings, that is, the eternal law of their
origin, development, and existence. He is the Idea of the
ideas, and, consequently, the true reality, for reality dwells
not in the visible but in the invisible ; it is not found in
matter but in the Idea.^

St. Augustine's idealism, which comes from Plato and
anticipates Malebranche's vision in God and Schelling's
intellectual intuition, was, like his philosophy in general,
subjected to the influence of the theological system cham-
pioned by him during the latter part of his life. The
inner light, ^^'llich reveals to the thinker God and the eter-
nal types of things, seems to him to grow dimmer and dim-
mer, the more convinced he becomes of the fall and radical
corruption of human nature. Reason, which, before the
Fall, was the organ of God and the infallible revealer of
celestial things, is obscured by sin ; the inner light changes
into darkness. Had it remained pure, God would not liave
had to incarnate himself in Jesus Clirist in order to reveal
himself to humanity. Reason would have wliolly sufficed
to reclaim th(; lost liuman race. But tlie woid was made

' De civ. Dei, XIII., lit; Dc lib. urhitrio, II., ;}, (J; De immort.
anim., G.

196 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

flesh, and, the inner light being obscured, the Father of
lio-ht appealed to our senses in order to transmit through
them what reason was no longer able to give us. In this
way, .Vugustine the theologian transforms the idealism of
Augustine the philosopher into sensualism.

The moral ideas of St. Augustine suffer the same changes.
His conceptions rise far beyond the general level of patris-
tic ethics, when Plato inspires liis thought. In Iris polemic
against moral philosophy, Lactantius had declared in true
Epicurean fashion : Non est, ut aiunt, })roiAcr seiinam virtus
expetenda, sed propter vitam bcatam, quce virtutem necessario
sequitur,^ and TertuUian had written the words : Bonum
atque optimum est quod Dens prcecepit. Audaciarn existimo
de bono divini prcecepti disputare. Neque enim quia honum
est, idcirco auscultare dehemus, sed quia Deus prcecepit.'^ St.
Augustine's reply to Lactantius is, that virtue and not
happiness constitutes the highest goal of free activity,
or the sovereign good. He opposes to eudsemonism ethi-
cal idealism. Against the indeterminism of TertuUian
he raises the objection that the moral law does not depend
on any one, but that it is itself the absolute.^ The divine
will does not make goodness, beauty, and truth ; absolute
goodness, absolute beauty, and absolute truth constitute the
will of God, Is the moral law good because God is the
highest lawgiver ? No. We regard him who has given us
the moral law as the highest lawgiver, because it is good.
A thing is not bad because God forbids it ; God forbids it
because it is bad. St. Jerome and St. Chrysostom con-
doned and even authorized official falsehood. Permit false-
hood, and you permit sin ! answers the Bishop of Hippo.*

St. Augustine is perfectly aware of the insoluble diffi-
culties which the problem of human freedom considered in
its relations to divine prescience, and the question of the

1 Imt. Dir., III., 12. 2 ])g pcenitenda, IV.

^ De lib. arbitr., I., 3. "* Contra mendacium, c. 15.

ST. AUGUSTINE 197

origin of evil present. If God foresees our actions, these
lose their fortuitous character and become necessary. Then
how are we to explain free-will, responsibility, and sin?
If God is the source of all things, must we not also assume
that evil proceeds from liis will ? And even if evil were
only privation, the absence of good, would not this lack
of virtue be caused by the refusal of the divine will to en-
lighten the soul and to turn it in the direction of the
good ?

The jjbilosophical reasons inclining St. Augustine tow-
ards determinism are supplemented by religious reasons.^
He feels that he is a sinner and incapable of being saved
through his own efforts. The natural man is the slave of
evil, and divine grace alone can make him free. Now,
divine grace cannot be brought about by man ; it is entirely
dependent on God's freedom. God saves man because he
desires it, but he does not save all men. He chooses
among them, and destines a certain number for salvation.
This election is an eternal act on his part, antecedent to
the creation of man. That is, some men are p7'edestined
for salvation, others are not. St. Augustine ignores the
question of predestination for damnation, as far as he can,
but it is logically im})ossible for him to escape this neces-
sary consequence of his j)remise.

However suj^erior his teaching may be to that of Pela-
gius his adversary, it is plain tliat, as soon as his thought
enters upon the path of theological fatalism, it gradually
sinks to the level of the ethics of Lactantius and Tertul-
lian. The determinism in whicli his metaphysical specu-
lations culminate is absolute, embracing man and God in
its scope ; while the determinism postulated by his religious
consciousness applies only to man and Icum-s God abso-
lutely undetermined. For Angusline the tliinkor, abso-

1 De civ. Dei, XX. ; Oc r/ratia Dei el lib. arb., G ; De pnrdesliiiatione
saiiclortim, 18; De j/rail. il rjralia, 2.

198 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

lute goodness constitutes the essence of the divine will ;
for Augustine the champion of predestination, good and
evil are dependent on God's will. The God of the Pla-
tonic tliinker manifests himself to the world in Jesus
Christ by virtue of an inner necessity ; according to the
doctor of the Church, the incarnation is but one of the
thousand means which God might have employed to realize
his aims. The philosopher admires and respects the ancient
virtues ; the theologian sees in them nothing but vices in
disguise, splcndida vitiaJ-

St. Augustine excellently exemplifies the intellectual
and moral crisis that forms the boundary between the
classical epoch and the Middle Ages.

§ 29. The Death Struggles of the Roman World. — Bar-
barism. — The First Symptoms of a New Philosophy

When St. Augustine expired, the Western Empire lay
at the point of death. From every side the Northern
hordes broke through the frontiers. Gaul and Spain were
in their hands, and Italy menaced. With the collapse of
the State, the entire Gra^co-Roman civilization sank into
ruins. The Church alone of all the old institutions had
a chance of weathering the storm. She opened the gates of
a better world to the naive believers of the North as well
as to the Uase Grseco-Latin sceptics, and closed them upon
the unworthy. This power of the keys she received directly
from God, and it gave her a powerful hold on both Romans
and barbarians. Moreover, the Church not only repre-
sented the ancient ideals, which the future had to develop
or transform ; she also proclaimed the essentially new and
fruitful principle of the equality of nations and individuals
before God, the doctrine of the unity and solidarity of the
human race; in a word, the idea of humanity. And

^ De clvitafe Dei, XIX., 25.

FIRST SYMPTOMS OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY 199

SO it happened that, when the catastrophe arrived, the
Church remained stable and inherited tlie empire. As the
heir of chissical culture and the depositary of the instru-
ments of salvation, she henceforth bestows the gifts of
education upon the barbarians, and the bread of Heaven
upon all. She establishes new nations ; and under her
fostering care the Neo-Latin and Germanic civilization
shows the first signs of life.

However, centuries passed before the death struggles of
antiquity ended, and a new world was born. The lit-
erary traditions of Greece and Rome were kept alive in
parts of Italy and the Eastern Empire. While the last
thinkers of paganism were consuming their strength in
weak efforts to revive the religion of the past, a Christian,
hiding his identity beneath the pseudonym of Dionysius
the Areopagite,^ advanced beyond the timid speculations of
the Greek Fathers, and christianized the Neo-Platonic
system, thereby sowing the seed in Clxiistian thought which
sprang up in jNIaximus the Confessor,^ Scotus Erigena,
Hugo and Richard of St. Victor, Eckhart, Bohme, and
Bruno. ]Marcianus Capella (about 450) wrote an encyclo-
pecha of the sciences.^ John Philoponus,* a contemporary
of the Xeo-Platonist Simplicius, published commentaries
on the works of Aristotle and defended the teachings of
Christianity. At about the same period, the Roman Boe-
thius ^ translated Plato and Aristotle, and wrote his deliohtr

1 Dionysii Areopagitse Opera, Greek and liatiii, [Bale, 1539] ; Paris,
1615, 1C14: (2 folio vols.) ; raise in Migne's collection]; Engelhardt,
De ortfjine scriptorum Areopayilicorum, Erlangen, 1823; [J. Colet, Ttoo
Treatises on the Hierarchies of Dionysius, with Transl., Introduction
and Notes, by J. II. Lupton, London, 1869. — Tr.].

2 580-662. Opera, ed. Conibefisius, 2 vols.,- Paris, 1675.

* Satyricon, ed. Kopp, Francf., 1836; [Kyssenhardt, Leijisic, 1866].

* Ili.s coninientaries on the Aualylics, the Physics, and Psychology,
etc., were repeatedly printed during the sixteenth century.

* A statesman who \v;is executed in the reign of Theodoric, 525.
Opera, [Venice, 1491]; Bale, 1546, 1.570, folio; [also in Migne's coUeo

200 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

ful treatise Be consolatione philosophioe, which breathes the
spirit of Epictetiis and Marcus Aurelius ; Cassiodorus,i
another Italian (died 575), published the treatise De arti-
bus ac discijplinis lihcralium litterariC7n, which with the
Encyclopedia of Marcianus Capella, the commentaries of
Boethius, and the Isagoge of Porphyry, formed the basis
of mediaeval instruction.^ Let us also mention Isidore of
Seville and his twenty books of Etymologies ; St. John of
Damas, a celebrated theologian and scholar ; and Photius,
the Patriarch of Constantino|)le, the author of the Bibliotheca
or Myriohilion, a kind of philosophical anthology.

It is evident, literature gradually retires within the
confines of the Church. In the West, especially, all intel-
lectual activity centred in it. But the smouldering spark
of learned culture was with difficulty kept alive in the
hearts of a clergy for the most part recruited from the
barbarians. The times were steeped in ignorance. The
Latin language, wliich the Church continued to use,
formed the only bond of union between the classical world
and the new generation. At a time when brutal passions
raged, when the secular clergy themselves were addicted
to a vulgar realism and showed an absolute indifference to
spiritual things, the convents became the refuge of thought
and study. Here, the mind, elsewhere distracted by ex-
ternal things, found ample opportunity and leisure moments
to contemplate itself and its real treasures. Unable as yet
to produce original works of their own, the monks spent

tion]. Gervaise, Htsfoire de Boece, se'nateur romain, Paris, 1715;
[Prantl, Geschichte der Logik, I , pp. 679-722].

1 Opera omnia, [Paris. 1579]; Rouen, 1679; Venice, 1726. St.
Marthe, Vie de Cassiodore, Paris, 1095.

2 According to this scheme of instruction, there are seven liberal
arts, three of which, grammar, rhetoric, and dialectics, form the
trivium; while the other four, m^^sic, arithmetic, geometry, and
astronomy constitute the quadrivium. There is a threefold and a four-
fold path leading to the highest science, theology.

SCHOLASTICISM 201

their time in copying manuscripts, and to their zealous
activity we owe our knowledge of quite a number of
ancient masterpieces.

But they did more ; they founded schools and instructed
the youth (scliolce, scholastici^ doctriaa scholastica). The
monastic schools rivalled the cathedi-al schools. Great
Britain possessed model monasteries, which produced such
men as the Venerable Bede,^ Alcuin,^ a pupil of the school
of York, who became the counsellor and friend of Charle-
magne, and helped to found the Palatine Academy and a
great number of cathedral and monastic schools ; finally
and above all, Scotus Erigena, the first and, on the whole,
most profound philosopher of tlie Cluistian Middle Ages,
the founder of Scholasticism.

The fatherland of Scotus, Occam, and the two Bacons,
has every reason to boast of being the Ionia of modern
philosophy.

§ 30. Scholasticism ^

As the sole legatee of the Roman Empire, the Church
is the predominant power of the jMiddle Ages. Out-
side of the Church there can be no salvation and no
science. The dogmas formulated by her represent the
truth. Hence, the problem no longer is to search for it.
The Church has no place for philosophy, if we mean by
philosophy the pursuit of truth. From the mediaeval point

i673-73o; Opera, Paris, 1521 f . ; Tmle, 1563; Cologne, 1612.
[A. Giles, The Complete Works of Venerable Beila (Latin), 12 vols.,
London, 1843-44.]

2 726-801; Opera, Pari.s, 1617; Patisb., ]77:5. 2 fol. vols.

8 [Con.sult the works of Ritter, Kou.sselot, Ilaiueau, Stbckl, etc.,
mentioned on page 10; also the general histories of philosophy referred
to on pages 13-16. —Th.] Cousin, Frnc/ments philnsnphii/ues, P/iilo-
sophie Kcolastique ; Itilrndnclion to Knno Fischer's Hlslor;/ of Modern
Philosophy; [S. Talamo, L'ArisloteliKtno nella storia ildia Jilosojia, 3d
ed., Siena, 1882; French trunsl., Paris, 1876. — Tr.]

202 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

of view, to philosophize means to exphxin the dogma, to
deduce its consequences, and to demonstrate its truth.
Hence, philosophy is identical with positive theology;
when it fails to be that, it becomes lieretical. Christian
thought hemmed in by the law of the Church resembles a
river confined between two steep banks ; the narrower the
bed, the deeper the stream. Being unable to escape from
the dogma encompassing it, it endeavors to penetrate it,
and eventually undermines it.

Thus the philosophy of the Christian School, Scholasti-
cism, arises and gradually gains a foothold. Scotus Eri-
gena is its founder; St. Anselmus, Abelai'd, St. Thomas,
and Duns Scotus, are its most distinguished representa-
tives. Scholasticism is modern science in embryo ; ^ the
philosophy of the Euro})ean nations developing within the
mother Church in the form of theology. It is not, like
the speculation of the Church E'athers, a child of classical
antiquity, from which the fall of the Roman world sep-
arates it. It springs from the healthy soil of the Ger-
manic and Neo-Latin world, and is the product of other
races and a new civilization.^ France, England, Spain,
Germany : Western Europe, in a word, is its home. It has
its period of youth, maturity, and decline. Scholastic
philosophy is at first influenced by Platonism through the
mediation of St. Augustine ; from the thirteenth century
on, it gradually suffers the influence of Aristotle's philo-
sophy. Hence, we notice two great periods in the history
of Scholasticism : the Platonic period and the Peripatetic
period. The latter divides into two su]>periods, of which
the first interprets Aristotle in the realistic sense, while
the second conceives him as a nominalist. From the four-
teenth century on. Scholasticism is engaged in the struggle

^ Hegel, Vorlesungen iiber die Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. III.,
p. 118 ; [vol. XV., of Complete Works}.
2 Id., p. 139.

SCHOLASTICISM 203

between the realists and nominalists^ and towards the
midtlle of the fifteenth century, it succumbs to the secu-
lar and liberal reaction inaugurated by the Renaissance-
After that it ceases to be a great intellectual power, and
seeks refuge, body and soul, within the pale of the Church,
of which it is, to this day, the official philosophy.^

What is its ruling thought, its fundamental doctrine ?
The " last of the Scholastics," though passing over the Mid-
dle Ages with " seven-leagued boots," ^ formulates it most
aptly in the following words : " Philosophy and theology
have the same contents, the same aim, and the same inter-
ests. ... In explaining religion, pliilosophy simply explains
itself, and in explaining itself it explains religion." ^ In-
deed, this principle lies at the root of all its systems. The
distinguishing characteristic of the period upon wliich we
are now entering is, that it reconciles elements previously
and subsequently in conflict with each other. An alliance
is formed between pliilosophy and theology, faith and
reason, "grace" and "nature." The Latin Fathers, as
well as the free-thinkers by whom modern philosophy was
founded, considered these two spheres as antagonistic.
The Fathei-s took sides with "grace"; the philosophers,
with " nature " ; while in the judgment of the Schoolmen,
at least those of the first period, there can be no contradic-
tion between the revealed dogma and natural reason. But
inasmuch as doctrines seemed to contradict each other on
many points, the problem became to reconcile them, to
demonstrate the truth of the dogma, and to prove that

^ The most distinguished among its post-Renaissance representa-
tives is Francis Suarez of Granada (1518-1G17), a follower of Thomas
of Aquin and author of the Dispulnliones melaphysicce (Paris, 1619),
etc.

2 Hegel, Vorlesungen iiber die Geschichle der Pkilosophie, vol. III.,
p. 00. [Engl, translation by Haldane, vol. III., p. 1.]

8 Vorlesungen iifjcr die Philosophie der Religion, vol. I., p. 5 ; [vol
XI., Complete Woiks.'j

204 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

ecclesiastical Christianity is a rational religion. To ren-
der the dogma acceptable to reason, says an eminent
follower of the pliilosopher just quoted,^ that is the pro-
gram of Scholasticism. The dogma affirms: Deus homo;
Scholasticism asks : Cur Deus liorno ? In order to answer
this question, theology forms an alliance with pliilosophy ;
faith, with science. This alliance constitutes the very
essence of Scholasticism. The latter is a compromise
between philosophy and faith. Indeed, Scholasticism
declines as soon as the nominalistic doctors, on the one
hand, and the humanists, on the other, recognize the
necessity of separating the two domains.

§ 31. Scotus Erigena

The fu'st great Schoolman, John Scotus Erigena, a
native of Ireland, was invited to take charge of the Pala-
tine Academy by Charles the Bald, about the middle of the
ninth century. His treatise, De divina prcedestinatione,
which he wrote against the heresy of Gottschalk, and his
Latin translation of Dionysius the Areopagite, which he
failed to submit to the Pope for approval, alienated from
him the sympathies of the Church. He continued to enjoy,
however, the protection of the Emperor. The date of his
death is as uncertain as the date of his birth.

Scotus resembles Origen in breadth of mind, and is
much superior to his times. He suffered the same fate :
the disfavor of the Church, which failed to canonize him.
His learning, however, rises far beyond the scientific
level of the Carlovingian epoch. Besides Latin, he knew
Greek and perhaps also Arabic. In addition to his knowl-
edge of the Greek Fathers and Neo-Platonism, he possessed
wonderful powers of speculation and boldness of judgment.
He stands out like a high volcano on a perfectly level

1 K. Fischer, op. cit., vol. I., 1, ch. IV.

SCOTUS ERIGENA 205

plane. His philosophy, as set forth in the De divisione
naturce} is not, indeed, an innovation on the Neo-Platonic
doctrines. Like the Pseudo-Dionysius, the Areopagite, it
reproduces the system of emanation of the Alexandrine
school in Christian form. But it was almost a miracle for
any one living in the ninth century and on this side of the
Pyrenees to understand Plotinus and Proclus.

The object of philosophy is, according to Scotus, identi-
cal with that of religion.^ Philosophy is the science of the
faith, the understanding of the dogma. Speculation and
reliarion have the same divine content and differ in form
only. Religion worships and adores, while philosophy
studies, discusses, and with the aid of reason explains
the object which religion adores : God or uncreated and
creative Nature.

In its broadest sense, the word nature comprises all
beings, both uncreated and created tilings. Nature thus
interpreted embraces four categories of existence : (1) that
which is uncreated and creates ; (2) that which is created
and creates ; (3) that which is created and does not create ;
(4) that, which is uncreated and does not create. Exist-
ence is possible only in these four forms.

This classilication may, however, be simplified. 'J^he
first class is, in fact, the same as the fourth, for both of
them contain that wliich is uncreated, and consequently
correspond to the only being existing in the absolute sense
of the word, to God. Tlie first class embraces God in so
far as he is the creative principle, the beginning or the

1 Edited l)y Thomas Gale, Oxford, 1G81 ; Schliiter, Minister, 1838;
H. J. Floss, Paris, 1858 [in vol. 122 of Migiie's collection, which con-
tains also the treatise De ilirina prfrdextinatione and the translation
of Dionysius] ; St. Rene Taillandicr, Scnl Eriffhie el la philosophie
scolasdque, Strasburg, 184;5 ; [Iliiber, Jolainnes Scotus Erigena, etc.,
Munich, 1801].

* De divinn proedestinatione. I'rodiuinin {\n (WWn-ri ISIauguin, /1mc<.
qui nono saec. de pi fed. et yral. scripscrunt <tj)era, Paris, 18."iO).

206 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

source of things ; the fourth also contains God, but only in
so far as he is the end, the consummation, and the highest
perfection of things. We also hnd, upon comparing the
second and the third classes, that they form a single class
containing all created things, or the universe, in so far as
this is tUstinct from God. The Idea-types, which are real-
ized in individuals, are productive created beings (the
second class). ^ Individuals are created and non-productive
things ; for types or species, not intlividuals, possess the
power of reproduction. Hence, we have left two classes in
place of the four original ones : God and the universe.

But these two categories or modes of existence are also
identical.^ In fact, the world is in God, and God is in it
as its essence, its soul, its life. Whatever living force,
light, and intelligence the world contains, is God, who is
immanent in the cosmos ; and the latter exists only in so
far as it participates in the divine being. God is the sum-
total of being without division, limit, or measure j the world
is divided and limited being. _ God is unexplicated being ;
the world is explicated, revealed, manifested (^Beot^dvaa)
being ; God and the universe are one and the same being,
two different modes or forms of the only infinite being ; or
rather, the world alone is a mode of being, a modification,
aiid limitation of being, while God is being without mode
of being or any determination.^

Scotus derives the word ^eo? either from Oewpw^ video, or
from ^e&), curro.^ According to the former etymology, it
means absolute vision or intelligence ; according to the
latter, eternal movement. But both meanings are merely
figurative. For, since God is the being by the side of

^ De dlvisione natures, II., 2.

2 Id., IIL, 22.

' De divisione naturce. III., 10 : God is everything, and everything
is God; III., 17-18: Hence we should not consider God and the
creature as a duality, but as one and the same being ; of. 22-23.

* Id., L, 14.

SCOTUS ERIGENA 207

whom or in whom there is no other being, we cannot,
strictly speaking, say that God sees or comprehends any-
thing. And as far as divine movement is concerned, we
may say that it in no wise resembles the locomotion pecu-
liar to creatm-es ; it proceeds from God, in God, towards
God ; that is, it is synonymous with absolute rest. Since
God is superior to all differences and all contrasts, he can-
not be designated by any term implying an opposite. We
call him good, but incorrectly, since the difference between
good and evil does not exist in him {v7r€pdjado<i plus quam
bonus est ^). We call him God, but we have just seen that
the expression is inadequate. We call him Truth; but
truth is opposed to error, and there is no such antithesis in
the Infinite Being. We call him the Eternal One, Life,
Light ; but since the difference between eternity and time,
life and death, light and its opposite, does not exist in God,
these terms are inexact. No term, not even the term heing^
will do him justice, for being is o^Dposed to non-being.
Hence God is indefinable as well as incomprehensible. He
is higher than goodness, higher than truth, liigher than
eternity ; he is more than life, more than light, more than
God (y7rep6eo<;), more than being itself (yirepovaio^^ super-
essentialis). None of the categories of Aristotle can com-
prehend him, and inasmuch as to comprehend means to
bring an object under a class, God himself cannot be
comprehended. He is the absolute nothing, the eternal
Mystery.^

Tlie innermost essence of tlie human soul is as mysterious
and impenetrable as God, since tliis essence is God himself.^
All that we know of it is tliat it is movement and life, and
that this movement, this life, lias three degrees : sensation,
intelligence, and reason: the Imman image of the divine
Trinity. The body was created with the soul ; but it has

* Dh divisione nnlurcn, I., 14.

2 Id., L,1(J; in.,!'.). 8 Id., I., 78.

208 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

fallen from its ideal beauty in consequence of sin. This
beauty, wliich is latent in tlie actual organism, will not
manifest itself in its purity except in the life to come.
Man is an epitome of all terrestrial and celestial creatures.
He is the world in miniature, and as such the lord of cre-
ation. He differs from the angels only in sin, and raises
himself to the level of divine being by penitence. Sin
belongs to the corporeal nature of man ; it is the necessary
effect of the preponderance of the senses over the intel-
lectual life in process of development.

The fall of man is not only the consequence, but also
the cause of his corporeal existence. The imperfections
and the diseases of his actual body, his dull materiality,
the antagonism between the flesh and the spirit, the differ-
ence of the sexes, all these things in themselves constitute
sin, fall, separation from God, the dismemberment of the
universal unity.i On the other hand, since there is no real
being outside of God, what we call separation from God,
fall or sin, is but a negative reality, a defect or privation.
Evil has no substantial existence. A thing has real exist-
ence only in so far as it is good, and its excellence is the
measure of its reality. Perfection and reality are synonyms.
Hence absolute imperfection is synonymous with absolute
non-reality; which implies the impossibility of the exist-
ence of a personal Devil, that is, an absolutely wicked
being. Evil is the absence of good, life, and being. De-
prive a being of everything good in it, and you annihi-
late it.2

Creation is an eternal and continuous act, an act without
beginning or end. God precedes the world in dignity, not
in time.3 God is absolutely eternal ; the world is relatively
so. It emanates from God as the light emanates from the
aun, or heat from fire. In the case of God, to think is to

1 Cf. §§ 10, 16, 25, 68.

2 De divisinne natura, TTT., 1, 4. ^ Id., III., 8.

SCOTUS ERIGENA 209

create (videt operando etvidendo opcratitr'^)^ and his creative
activity is, like his thought, without beginning. Every
creature is virtually eternal ; our entire being is rooted in
eternity ; we have all pre-existed from eternity in the in-
finite series of causes which have produced us. God alone
is eternal actu ; he alone never existed as a simple germ.
The notliingness from which the world is derived, accord-
ing to Scripture, is not equal to ; it is the ineffable and
incomprehensible beauty of the divine nature, the supra-
essential and supernatural essence of God, inaccessible to
thoucjht and unknown even to the ano-els.^

The genera, species, and individuals are evolved in suc-
cession from the Infinite Being. Creation consists in this
eternal analysis of the general. Being is the highest gen-
erality. From being, wliich is common to all creatures,
life, wliich belongs ordj to organized beings, is separated
as a special principle. Reason springs from life and em-
braces a still narrower class of beings (men and angels) ;
finally, from reason are derived wisdom and science, which
belong to the smallest number. Creation is a harmonious
sum of concentric circles ; we have constant crossings be-
tween the di%'ine essence, wliich overflows, expands, and
unfolds, and the world or the periphery, which strives to
return to God and to be merged in him.-^ The aim of
human science is to know exactly how things spring
from the first causes, and how they are divided and sub-
divided into species and genera. Science in this sense is
called dialectics,'* and may be divided into physics and
ethics. True dialectics is not, like that of the Sophists, the
product of human imagination or capricious reason ; the
autlior of all sciences and all arts has grounded it on the
very nature of things. Tlirough knoAvledge and wisdom, its
culmination, tlie human soul rises above nature and be-

1 De divisione naturce, III., 17 ff. 2 7,/^ uf., ij).

8 Id., I., 10. ■• Id., I., 2!», KJ; V-,4.

210 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

comes identified with God. This return to God is effected,
for nature in general, in man ; for man, in Christ and the
Christian ; for the Christian, in his supernatural and essen-
tial union with God through the spirit of wisdom and sci-
ence. Just as everything comes from God, everything is
destined to return to God. Scotus teaches predestination,
i. e., universal predestination for salvation. All fallen an-
gels, all fallen men, all beings, in a word, will return to God.
The punishments of hell are purely spiritual. There is no
other recompense for virtue than the vision or immediate
knowledge of God, no other pain for sin than remorse.
Punishments have nothing arbitrary in them; they are
the natural consequences of the acts condemned by the
divine law.^

§ 32. St. Anselm

Scotus Erigena went out like a meteor on a dark night.
While the Arabian schools ^ were continuing the jjhilo-

^ De div. prcedestinatione, 2-4:.

2 Tlie most celebrated schools in the Orient were : Bagdad, Bas-
sora, Bokhara, Konf a ; in Spain : Cordova, Granada, Toledo, Sevilla,
Murcia, Valencia, Almeria, etc. The Arabians are apt pupils of the
Greeks, Persians, and Hindoos in science. Their philosophy is the
continuation of Peripateticisni and Neo-Platonisra. It is more learned
than original, and consists mainly of exegesis, particularly of the
exegesis of Aristotle's system, the strict monotheism of which recom-
mended it to the disciples of Islam. The leaders of Arabian thought
are, in Asia : Alkendi of Bassora, a contemporary of Scotus Erigena ;
Alfarabi of Bagdad (same century), among other things the author of
an Encyclopedia, which the Christian Schoolmen valued very highly;
Avicenna (Ibn-Sina died at Ispahan, 1036), celebrated in Em-ope as
a physician and learned interpreter of Aristotle ; Algazel of Bagdad
(died 1111), a sceptical philosopher and orthodox Mussulman; in
Spain: Avempace (Ibn-Badja) of Saragossa, died 1138, Ibn- Top-
hail of Cadiz (1100-1185), Averroes (Ibn-Pvoschd) of Cordova, the
"commentator of commentators" (1126-1198), all of them learned
physicians, mathematicians, philosophers, and fruitful writers. After
the days of Averroes, Arabian philosophy rapidly declined, never to

ST. ANSELM 211

sophical and scientific traditions of Greece and the Orient
with credit to themselves, the alliance between reason and
faith had only a few isolated representatives in Cluistian
Europe during the tenth and eleventh centuries, viz. : Ger-
bert 1 (Sylvester II.), who is indebted for his knowledge to
the Arabians ; Berengar of Tours ; ^ Lanfranc ; ^ and Hil-
debert of Lavardin, Bishop of Tours, the author of a treatise
on morals.* The great questions which occupied the mind
of Scotus no lono-er interested them. These subtle reasoners
spent their time in discussing the most trivial subjects and
the most childish problems : Can a prostitute again become
a virgin through the divine omnipotence ? Does the mouse
that eats the consecrated host eat the body of the Lord?
Christian pliilosophy is still in its infancy, and therefore
delights in such childish sports. But these sports are sig-
niticant preludes to the combats which the future has in
store.

The first really speculative thinker after Scotus is St.
Anselm,^ the disciple of Lanfranc. He was born at Aosta

rise again, but it left its impress on Jewish thought (Avicehron or
Ibn-Gebirol, eleventh century, the author of the Fountain of Life ; Closes
]\Iaiinonides, 1135-1204, the still more noted author of the Guide to the
Mii^guided, etc.), and through the latter on Christian thought. See
[Schnicilders, Docuwiew^a pJdlnsophire Arabum, Bonn, 1886]; same au-
thor, Essai sur les ecoles philosophiqiieit chez les Arahea, Paris, 1842;
[Ilammer-Purgstall, Geschichte der arabischen Litteralur, vols. I.-YII.,
Vienna, 1850-56]; Munck, Melanges de philosophic juire ef arabe, I'aris,
18.50; Kenan, Averroeset PAverroisme, 8d ed., Paris, 1860; [F. Dieterici,
Die Philosnphie der Araber im 10. Jahrhundert. 8 pts., Loipsic, 1865-76;
M. Eisler, Vorlesnngen iiber die Judische J'hilosopliie des Afiftelalters, 3
vols., Vienna, 1870-84 ; i\I. Joel, Beilrdge zur Geschichte der Pliilosophie,
2 vols., Breslau, 1876. — Tr.].

1 Died 1003.

2 Died 1088. De sacra ccena adversus iMnfr., Berlin, 1844.
» Died, 1089. Opera, ed. Ciiles, Oxford, 1854.

* 1>1(m1 1134. Opera, '\. Beaugendre.

' Opera, Xurciiilicrg, etc, 1401 ff. ; also in vol. 155 of Migne's col-

212 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

(1033), entered the monastery of Bee in Normandy (1060),
succeeded Lanfranc as Abbot (1078), and as Archbishop
of Canterbury (1093). lie died in 1109. He left a great
number of writings, tlie most important of which are : the
Dialogus de (jravimatico, the Monolorjium de dlvinitatis essen-
tia sive Uxemplum de ratione fidei,i\\Q Proslogium sive Fides
qucerens intellectum, the Be veritate, the Be fide trinitatis,
and the C^ir Bens liomo ?

The second Augustine, as St. Ansehn has been called,
starts out from the same principle as the first ; he holds
that faith precedes all reflection and all discussion con-
cerning religious things. The unbelievers, he says,^ strive
to understand because they do not believe; we, on the
contrary, strive to understand because we believe. They
and we have the same object in view ; but inasmuch as they
do not believe, they cannot arrive at their goal, which is to
understand the dogma. The unbeliever will never under-
stand. In religion faith plays the part played by experi-
ence in the understanding of the things of this world. The
blind man cannot see the light, and therefore does not
understand it; the deaf-mute, who has never perceived
sound, cannot have a clear idea of sound. Similarly, not
to believe means not to perceive, and not to perceive means
not to understand. Hence, we do not reflect in order that
we may believe ; on the contrary, we believe in order that
we may arrive at knowledge. A Christian ought never to
doubt the beliefs and teachings of the Holy Catholic
Church. All he can do is to strive, as humbly as possible,
to understand her teachings by believing them, to love
them, and resolutely to observe them in his daily life.

lection, Paris, 1852-54 ; [Hasse, Ansehn von Canterhimj, 2 pts., Leipsic,
1843-52] ; Charles de Remusat, Ayiaelme de Cantorhery, tahJeau de la vie
monastique, etc., Paris, 1854 ; 2cl ed., 1868 ; [Shedd, History of Christian
Doctrine, vol. II., New York, 1864].
^ Cur Deus homo ? I., 2.

ST. AXSELM 213

Should he succeed in understanding the Clmstian doc-
trine, let him render thanks to God, the source of all intel-
ligence ! In case lie fails, that is no reason why he should
obstinately attack the dogma, but a reason why he should
bow his head in worship. Faith ought not merely to be
the starting-point, — the Christian's aim is not to depart
from faith but to remain in it, — but also the fixed rule
and goal of thought, the beginning, the middle, and the
end of all philosophy. i

The above almost literal quotations might give one the
impression that St. Anselm belongs exclusively to the
Ihstory of theology. Such is not the case, however. This
fervent Catholic is more independent, more of an investi-
gator and philosopher than he himself imagines. He is a
typical scholastic doctor and a fine exponent of the alliance
between reason and faith which forms the characteristic
trait of mediieval philosophy. He assumes, a priori, that
revelation and reason are in perfect accord. These two
manifestations of one and the same Supreme Intelligence
cannot possibly contradict each other. Hence, his point of
view is chametrically opposed to the credo quia ahsurdum.
Moreover, he too had been besieged by doubt. Indeed,
the extreme ardor which impels him to search ever}- where
for arguments favorable to tlie dogma, is a confession on
his part that the dogma needs support, that it is debatable,
that it lacks self-evidence, the criterion of truth. Even as
a monk, it was liis cliief concern to find a simple and con-
clusive argument in support of the existence of God and of
all the doctrines of the Church concerning the Supreme
Being. Mere affmnation did not satisfy him ; he demanded
proofs. This thought was continually before his mind ; it
c;iused him to forget his meals, and pursued him even
(hiring the solemn moments of worsliii^. He comes to the
conclusion tliat it is a temptation of Satan, and seeks dellv

^ De fide Irinilatis ; cf. Monoloijium, Pifliice.

214 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

erance from it. But in vain. After a night spent in medi-
tation, he at last discovers what he has been seeking for
years : the incontrovertible argument in favor of the Chris-
tian dogma, and he regards himself as fortunate in having
found, not only the proof of the existence of God, but his
peace of soul. His demonstrations are like the premises of
modern rationalism.

Everything that exists, he says,i has its cause, and this
cause may be one or many. If it is one, then we have
what we are looking for : God, the unitary being to whom
all other beings owe their origin. If it is manifold, there
are tlii-ee possibilities : (1) The manifold may depend on
unity as its cause; or (2) Each thing composing the
manifold may be self-caused ; or (3) Each thing may owe
its existence to all the other things. The fii'st case is
identical with the hypothesis that everytliing proceeds
from a single cause ; for to depend on several causes, all
of which depend on a single cause, means to depend on
this single cause. In the second case, we must assume
that there is a power, force, or faculty of self-existence
common to all the particular causes assumed by the
hypothesis ; a power in which all participate and are com-
prised. But that would give us what we had in the first
case, an absolute unitary cause. The third supposition,
which makes each of the " first causes " depend on all the
rest, is absurd ; for we cannot hold that a thing has for its
cause and condition of existence a thing of vfhich it is
itself the cause and condition. Hence we are compelled
to believe in a being which is the cause of every existing
thing, without being caused by anything itself, and which
for that very reason is infinitely more perfect than anything
else : it is the most real {ens rcalissiinum), most powerful,
and best being. Since it does not depend on any being or
on any condition of existence other than itself, it is a se
1 Monologium, c. 3.

ST. ANSELM 215

and x>^r se ; it exists, not because something else exists, but
it exists because it exists j tliat is, it exists necessarily, it
is necessary being.^

It would be an easy matter to deduce pantheism from
the arguments of the Ilonologium. Anselm, it is true,
protests against such an interpretation of his theology.
With St. Augustine he assumes that the world is created
ex nihilo. But though accepting this teaching, he modi-
fies it. Before the creation, he says, things did not exist
hi/ themselves, independently of God; hence we say they
were derived from non-being. But they existed eternally
for God and in God, as ideas ; they existed before their cre-
ation, in the sense that the Creator foresaw them and pre-
destined them for existence.^

The existence of God, the unitary and absolute cause of
the world, being proved, the question is to determine his
nature and attributes. God's perfections are like human
perfections; with this difference, however, that they are
essential to him, which is not the case with us. Man has
received a share of certain perfections, but there is no
necessary correlation between him and these perfections ;
it wouhl have been possible for him not to receive them ;
he could have existed without them. God, on the con-
trary, does not get his perfections from without ; he has
not received them, and we cannot say that he has them ;
he is and must be everything that these perfections imply ;
his attributes are identical with his essence. Justice, an
attribute of God, and God. are not two separate things.
We cannot say of God that he has justice or goodness ;
we cannot even say that lie is just ; for to be just is to
participate in justice after the manner of creatures. God is
jutsice as sucli, goodness as such, wisdom as such, happiness
as such, truth as such, being as such. Moreover, all of
God's attril)utes constitute ])ut a single attribute, by virtue
* Moiiolnnuim, c. 3. ^'/'j c. 9.

216 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

of the unity of his essence (unum est quidquid essentialiter
de summa substantia dicitur^).

All this is pure Platonism. But, not content with spirit-
ualizing theism, Anselni really discredits it when, like a
new Carneades, he enumerates the difficulties which he finds
in the conception. God is a simple being and at the same
time eternal, that is, diffused over infinite points of time \
he is omnipresent, that is, distributed over all points of
space. Shall we say tliat God is omnipresent and eternal ?
This proposition contradicts the notion of the simplicity of
the divine essence. Shall we say that he is nowhere in
space and nowhere in time ? But that would be equiva-
lent to denying his existence. Let us therefore reconcile
these two extremes and say that God is omnipresent and
eternal, without being limited b}" space or time. The fol-
lowing is an equall}' serious difficulty : In God there is no
change and consequently nothing accidental. Now, there
is no substance without accidents. Hence God is not a
substance; he transcends all substance. Anselm is
alarmed at these dangerous consequences of his logic, and
he therefore prudently adds that, though the term " sub-
stance " may be incorrect, it is, nevertheless, the best we
can apply to God — si quid digne did potest — and that to
avoid or condemn it might perhaps jeopardize our faith in
the reality of the Divine Being.

The most formidable theological antinomy is the doc-
trine of the trinity of persons in the unity of the divine
essence.^ The Word is the object of eternal thought ; it
is God in so far as he is thought, conceived, or compre-
hended by himself. The Holy Spirit is the love of God
for the Word, and of the Word for God, the love which
God bears himself. But is this explanation satisfactory ?
And does it not sacrifice the dogma which it professes to
explain to the conception of unity? St. Anselm sees in
1 Monologium, c. 17. 2 /j.^ c. 38 ff.

ST. ANSELM 217

tlie Trinity and the notion of God insurmountable difficul-
ties and contradictions, vrhich the human mind cannot
reconcile. In his discouragement he is obliged to confess,
with Scotus Erigena, St. Augustine, and the Neo-Platon-
ists, that no human ^^■ord can adequately express the
essence of the All-High. Even the Avords "-Avisdom"
(^sapientia^ and "■being" (essentia^ are but imperfect ex-
pressions of what he imagines to be the essence of God.
All theological phrases are analogies, figures of speech, and
mere approximations.^

The Proslogium sive Fides quoerens intellectum has the
same aim as the Monologium : to prove the existence of
God. Our author draws the elements of his argument
from St. Augustine and Platonism. He sets out from the
idea of a perfect being, from which he infers the existence
of such a being. We have in ourselves, he saj-s, the idea
of an absolutely perfect being. Now, perfection implies
existence. Hence God exists. This argument, which has
been termed the ontolofjical ((rt/wiucnt, found an opponent
worthy of Anselm in Gaunilo, a monk of Marmoutiers
in Touraine.2 Gaunilo emphasizes the difference between
thought and being, and points out the fact that we may con-
ceive and imagine a being, and yet that being may not exist.
We have as much right to conclude from our idea of an
enchanted island in the middle of the ocean tliat such an
island actually exists. The criticism is just. Indeed, the
ontological argument would be conclusiA^e, only in case
the idea of God and the existence of God in the luiman
mind were identical. If our idea of God is God himself,
it is evident that this idea is tlie immediate and incon-
trovertible proof of the existence of God. liut wliat the

' Monuloffium, c. 05.

"^ (jauiiilo's refutation of tho ontological proof is fouiid in iho
works of Anselm under the title: Liber pro insipleitte adcemus S
J^nxfiJini in Proslo'jii) ruliuvitiuliuncm.

218 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

theologian aims to prove is not the existence of the God-
Idea of Plato and Hegel, but the existence of the personal
God. However that may be, we hardly know what to
admire most, — St. Anselm's broad and deep conception,
or the sagacity of liis opponent who, in the seclusion of his
cell, anticipates the Transcendental Dialectic of Kant.

The rationalistic tendency which we have just noticed in
the Monologium and the Proslogium meets us again in the
Cur Deus homo ? Why did God become man ? The first
word of the title sufficiently indicates the philosophical
trend of the treatise. The object is to search for the
causes of the incarnation. The incarnation, according to
St. Anselm, necessarily follows from the necessity of
redemption. Sin is an offence against the majesty of God.
In spite of his goodness, God cannot pardon sin without
compounding with honor and justice. On the other hand,
he cannot revenge liimseK on man for his offended honor ;
for sin is an offence of infuiite degree, and therefoie
demands infinite satisfaction ; wliicli means that he must
either destroy humanity or inflict upon it the eternal pun-
ishments of hell. Now, in either case, the goal of creation,
the happiness of his creatures, would be missed and the
honor of the Creator compromised. There is but one way
for God to escape this dilemma without affecting his
honor, and that is to arrange for some kind of satisfaction.
He must have infinite satisfaction, because the offence is
immeasurable. Now, in so far as man is a finite being
and incapable of satisfying divine justice in an infinite
measure, the infinite being himself must take the matter in
charge ; he must have recourse to substitution. Hence, the
necessity of the incarnation. God becomes man in Christ;
Christ suffers and dies in our stead ; thus he acquires an
infinite merit and the right to an equivalent recompense.
But since the world belongs to the Creator, and nothing
can be added to its treasures, the recompense wliicli by

REALISM AND NOMINALISM 219

right belongs to Christ falls to the lot of the human
race in which he is incorporated : humanity is pardoned,
forgiven, and saved.

Theological criticism has repudiated Anselm's theory,
which bears the stamp of the spirit of chivalry and of
feudal customs. But, notwithstanding the attacks of a
superficial rationalism, there is an abiding element of truth
in it: over and above each personal and variable will there
is an absolute, immutable, and incorruptible will, called
justice, honor, and duty, in conformity with the customs
of the times.

We have now to speak of the part the great Schoolman
j^layed in the discussion that arose after his promotion to
the Archbishopric of Canterbury: I mean the controversy
between the realists and the nominalists, or let me rather
say, between the idealists and the materialists, — for this
" monkish quarrel " was in reality a conflict between meta-
physical principles.^

§ 33. Realism and Nominalism ^

The Catholic or universal Church does not merely aim
to be an aggregation of particular Christian communities
and of the believers composing them ; she regards herself
as a superior j)Ower, as a reality distinct from and inde.
pendent of the individuals belonging to the fold. If the
Idea, tliat is, the general or universal (to kuOoXov), were

^ AVe should say realists instead of " materialists," were it not for
the fact that the former term was, during the Middle Ages, applied to
the opposite side. We mean the party which unduly emphasizes the
real or material principle, and whicli in the history of mediicval phil-
osophy represents Tonianism and r(Mii)ateticisiu, as distinguished from
Academic idealism.

^ [C. S. Barach, Zur Geschlckte des Nomlnnlismus vor Jioscelliu,
Vienna, 1800,- J. If. Lowe, Der Kanij/f zwlschen dcm Ileulismus und
Noviinalismus iin Millelaller, sein Ursjirung und sriii I'tr/auf, rragne.
Ib7(i. — Tu.j

220 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

not a realiti/, "the Church" woukl be a mere collective
term, and the particular churches, or rather the individuals
composing them, would be the only realities. Hence, the
Church must be realistic,^ and declare with the Academy ;
Universalia sunt realia. Catholicism is synonymous with
realism. Common-sense, on the other hand, tends to
reo-ard universals as mere notions of the mind, as signs
desio-nating a collection of individuals, as abstractions hav-
ing no objective reality. According to it, individuals alone
are real, and its motto is : Universalia simt iiomina ; it is
nominalistic, individualistic.

The latter view was advanced and developed about 1090
by RoscELLiNUS, a canon of Compiegne. According to him,
universals are mere names, vocis Jiatus, and only particular
thino-s have real existence. Though this thesis seemed
quite harmless, it was, nevertheless, full of heresies. If
the individual alone is real, the Church is but a flatus vocis,
and the individuals composing it are the only realities.
If the individual alone is real, Catholicism is no more than
a collection of individual convictions, and there is noth-
ing real, solid, and positive, but the personal faith of the
Christian. If the individual alone is real, original sin is a
mere phrase, and individual and personal sin alone is reah
If the individual alone is real, there is nothing real in God
except the three persons, — the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Ghost ; and the common essence which, according to
the Church, unites them into one God, is a mere nomen, a
flatus vocis. Roscellinus, who is especially emphatic on

1 Let me remind the reader that in the Middle Ages the term
realiiit meant idealist, that is, the direct opposite of what it means
now. The same is true of the words objective and subjective. What
we call objective, Scholastic philosophy calls subjective (viz., that which
exists as a subject, substance, or reality independent of my thought) ;
while what we call subjective is called objective (viz., that which exists
merely as an object of thought and not as a real subject). This ter-
minology, the couvei-se of ours, is still found in Descartes and Spinoza.

REALISM AND NOMINALISM 221

the latter point, is not content with defending his tritheis-
tic heresy ; he takes tlie offensive and accuses his adver-
saries of heresy. To hold that the Eternal Father himself
became man in Christ in order to suffer and die on Cal-
vary, is a heresy condemned by the Church as Patripas-
sianism. Now, if the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost have the same essence, and if this essence is an
objective reality, it follows that the essence of the Father
or the Father himself became man in Cluist : a statement
which is explicitly contradicted by Scriptui-e and the
Church herself.

Roscellinus had pointed out a difficidty in the dogma, — •
an offence for which the Church never forgave him. The
Council of Soissons condemned his heresy and forced liim
to retract (1092). Nominalism thus anathematized held its
peace for more than two centuries, and did not reappear
until about 1320, in the doctrine of Occam.

The most ardent champions of realism in the controversy
aroused by the canon of Compiegne were St. Anselm and
William of Champeaux, a professor at Paris and after-
wards Bishop of Chalons.^ St. Anselm combated not
only the dogmatic heresy but also the philosophical heresy,
namely, the negation of Platonic idealism, the antithesis of
speculative philosophy. " Reason," he says,^ "is so confused
with corporeal ideas in tlieir souls (he is speaking of the
nominalists), that they find it impossible to get rid of them
and to separate from such material ideas that which ought
to be considered in itself and independently of all corporeal
intermixture. . . . They cannot understand that man is
something more than an individuaiy

William of Champeaux deduces the extreme conse-

' Died 1121. [Michaud, GuiUaume de Champeaux et les ecoles de
Paris au Xfl^e siecle, Paris, 1SG8. — Tr.]

2 De fide trin., c. 2. We were, tlierefore, juslificd in translaliiig
nominalism by tlie word viateriulism. j). 21!*.

222 niiLOSorHY of the middle ages

quences of realism. According to him, nothing is real but
the universal ; individuals are mere Jiatus vocis. From
the anthropological point of view, for example, there is in
reality, accorcUng to Champeaux, but one man, the univer-
sal man, the man-type, the genus man. All individuals
are fundamentally the same, and differ only in the acci-
dental modifications of their common essence. Champeaux
is but a step removed from pure pantheism, and yet he
is the defender of orthodoxy, the passionate adversary of
the heresy of Roscellinus ! What a strange confusion of
ideas and interests ! What an intellectual chaos, out of
which the Catholic theology of our day is with difficulty
beginning to bring order!

Between extreme nominalism, which says : Universale
'post rem, and extreme realism, which has for its motto :
Universale ante rem, there was room for a doctrine of
mediation, which may be summarized as follows : Univer-
sale neque ante rem nee post rem, sed In Re. Tliis we get
in the concept iialism of Abelard.

§ 34. Abelard
PiEERE Abelaed, or Abailard,! ^^^^ i^q^.j-^ [^i Palais,
near Nantes, 1079, and studied at Paris under William of
Cliampeaux, the most skilful controversialist of the period.
Quarrelling with his teacher, who Avas jealous of his pupil's
brilliant talents, Abelard, though only twenty-two years
of age, opens a school at Melun, then at Corbeil. His
reconciliation with Champeaux brings him back to Paris,
where he meets with unparalleled success as a teacher.
Fallino- a victim to the vindictiveness of the canon Fulbert,

1 Abaelardi Opera, ed. Cousin, 1849-59 ; V. Cousin's Introduction to
Ouvrages inedits d'Ahelard, Paris, 1836 ; Cousin, Fragments de phi-
losophie xcolasiigiie, Taris, 1840 ; Charles de Rcmusat, Abelard, 2 vols.,
Paris, 1845; [Ilausrath, Peter Abelard, Leipsic, 1892].

ABELARD 223

whose niece he had seduced, he retires to the Abbey of St.
Denis, while Heloise takes the veil at Argenteuil. In his
retirement he writes the treatise Dc trinitate, a work wliicli
brings down upon his head the wrath of the Church. The
Council of Soissons condemns him to deliver his book to the
flames (1122). At Nogent-sur-Seine he founds an Oratory,
which he dedicates to the Tiinity, and particularly to the
Paraclete. Tliis he afterwards surrenders to Heloise, in
order to enter upon his duties as Abbot of St. Gildas de
Ruys. Denounced as a heretic by St. Bernard of Clair-
vaux, he is again condemned, this time to imprisonment
(1140) ; but he finds an unexpected refuge in the Abbey
of Clugny, and a noble protector in Peter the Venerable,
through whose efforts St. Bernard is finally moved to for-
giveness. These troubles undermine his health, and cause
his death in 1142. In addition to his Be trinitate, we have
to mention his Letters, his Introductio ad theologiam, and his
Thcologia Christiana, his Ethics (Nosce te ipsuni), the Dia-
logue between a Philosopher, a Christian, and a Jew, pub-
lished by Reinwald (Berlin, 1831), and the treatise Sic
et noii^ published by V. Cousin in the Ouvrages inedits
d'Ahelard (Paris, 1836).

Abelard is too speculative a thinker to accept the notions
of Roscellinus, and too positivistic to subscribe to the
theory of William of Champeaux. According to him, the
universal exists in the individual ; outside of the individual
it exists only in the form of a concept. Moreover, though
it exists in the individual as a reality, it exists there not
as an essence but as an individual. If it existed in it
essentially, or, in other terms, if it exhausted the essence
of the individual, what would l)e the difference between
Peter and I'aul ? Altliough Abelard's theory is not iden-
tical with nominalism, it comes very near it. It is to the
ultra-idealistic doctrine of Champeaux what the concrete
idealism of Aristotle is to tlie abstract idealism of IMato.

224 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

Abelard, who was not acquainted with Aristotle's Meta-
physics, divines its contents from the few hints he gets
from the Organon. That alone would assure him a high
place among the doctors of the Middle Ages.

Abelard is, moreover, the most independent, the most
courageous, and the most relentless among the Schoolmen.
Thouo-h respectful towards the Church, he is not afraid of
incurring its displeasure, when occasion demands it. He
agrees with the author of the Cit7' Deus homo ? that revealed
truth and rational truth are identical, but he does not, like
Anselmus, accept St. Augustine's credo lU intelligam. It
is surprising with what frankness his Iiitroductlo condemns
the presumptuous crediditij of those ivho indiscriminately
and hastily accept any doctrine whatsoever hefore considering
its merits and whether it is worthy of belief. He is an en-
thusiastic admirer of Greek philosophy, which, however, as
he himself confesses, he knows only from the works of St.
Augustine. 1 He finds all the essential doctrines of Cliris-
tianity, its conception of God, the Trinity, and the incar-
nation, in the great thinkers of antiquity, and the distance
between Paganism and the Gospel does not seem so great
to him as that between the Old and the New Testaments.
It .is especially from the ethical point of view, he believes,
that Greek philosophy has the advantage over the teach-
ings of the sacred books of Israel. Hence, why should we
deny the pagan thinkers eternal happiness because they did
not know Christ ? What is the Gospel but a reform of the
natural moral law, legis naturalis reformatio ? Shall we
people hell with men whose lives and teachings are truly
evangelical and apostolic in their perfection, and differ in
nothing or very little from the Christian religion ? ^

^ TJieoIogia ch-istiana. Book IT. : Qiice ex philn^opJiia coUeqi fe^^fimonia,
non ex eorum scriptk, quce nunquam fortasse vidi, imo ex libris B. Aiigustini
colleg'u

* Theologia Christiana, 11.

ABELARD 225

How does Abelard manage to find such doctrines as the
Trinity in Greek pliilosophy? The three persons are re-
duced to three attributes {proprietates own essentia^') of
the Divine Being : power, wisdom, and goodness. Taken
separately, he says,i these three properties : power, knowl-
edge, and will, are nothing ; but united they constitute the
highest perfection (tuta iKrfcdio honi). The Trinity is the
Being who can do what he wills, and who wills what he
knows to be the best. From the theological stand-point,
this is monarchism, a heresy opposed to the tritheism of
Roscellinus. Metaphysically, it is concrete spiritualism,
which denies that force and thought are separate entities,
and holds that they are united in the vnll.

In times of religious fervor, morality is identified with
piety, ethics with theology, while enlightened and sceptical
periods tend to separate them. The first appearance of a
system of ethics independent of dogmatics is therefore an
important symptom. Such a work is Hildebert of Lavar-
din's popular treatise on ethics, Moralis philosopJna,^ an
imitation of Cicero and of Seneca ; such is, above all, the
much profounder and more scientific treatise of Abelard :
Nosce te ipsum.

Not that Abelard dreams of separating ethics from onto-
logy, as our independent moralists do. But the 6v on which
he bases the moral law is not the divine free-will of the
Latin Fathers. Since God is the best and most perfect
Being, all his acts are necessary. For, if it be right that a
thing he done, it is wrong not to do it ; and whoever fails
to do what reason demands is no less at fault than he who
does what it prohibits. And just as God's conduct is de-
termined by reason, we, his creatures, are, in tui-ii, deter-
mined by the divine will. Inasmuch as God is llie ilbsolute
cause, tlio Being in whom we live, move, and liave our
being, and wlio is lli(;refore tlie source of onr jjowci- and

' T/,r„/of/i<i r/iris/iaiKj. 2 s.-e § :V2.

226 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

will, it follows that God is, in a certain sense, also tlie
author of whatever acts we may perform, and that he does
what he makes us do {quod nos facer e facif)}

The tendency to evil is not sin, but the condition of vir-
tue, for virtue is a struggle, and all struggle presupposes
opposition. Nor is the act as such the 7natter of the sin ;
the act as such is indifferent. The sin lies in the form of
the act, that is, in the will which chctates it. Neither the
tendency to evil nor the act in itself is sin, but the inten-
tion, though arrested, of satisfying an evil desire or indulg-
ing a passion. It follows that the man who has consented
to an evil action and is hindered in its accomplishment by
some circumstance or other, is as culpable as though he had
performed it. The intention deserves punishment as much
as the act, and he who consents to do evil has already done
evil. The Supreme Judge does not judge appearances and
the outside, but the spirit. By distinguishing between the
desire and the intention to surrender one's self to it, be-
tween the natural craving and the will to follow it, Abelard
repudiates that exaggerated form of pessimism which re-
gards the life of man as one perpetual sin ; by characteriz-
ing the external act as indifferent, he attacks the growing
formalism of Catholic morality. As was pointed out, the
conceptualistic theory shows the first signs of the influ-
ence exerted by Aristotle on the Middle Ages. The ethics
of Abelard reminds us of Aristotle and his ethics of the
golden mean .2

The influence of Abelard was considerable. We observe
it in Bernard of Chartres called Si/lvestris,^ in William of
Conches,'^ the learned professor of Paris, who, in his Fhilo-

1 Cf. the Ethics of Geulincx (§ 54).

2 [Cf/Th. Ziegler, AbcehmVs Elliica, Freiburg, 1884. — Tr.]

3 Megacosmus et Microcosmus [ed. by C. S. Barach, ISTfi] ; frag-
ments published by Cousin.

* Magna de naiuris philosophia: Dragmaticon pMlosopJiue, etc.; Philo-

sophia minor.

HTGO OF ST. VICTOR 227

Sophia minor^^ protests against ecclesiastical intolerance,
in Gilbert tie la Porrde, Bishop of Poitiers,^ in John of
Salisbmy, Bishop of Chartres,^ and even in his adversary
Hugo of St. Victor. Gilbert is branded as an atheist by
St. Bernard because he distinguishes between God and the
Deit}', between the person and the essence of the Supreme
Being. ^' The divine Spirit," says John of Salisbury in his
Polycraticus,'^ " the creator and giver of life, replenishes not
only the human soul but every creature in the universe.
. . . For outside of God there is no substantial creature,
and things exist only in so far as they share in the divine
essence. By his omnipresence God envelopes his creatures,
penetrates them and fills them full of himself. . . . All
things, even the most insignificant, reveal God, but each
reveals him in its own Avay. Just as the sunlight is tlif-
ferent in the sapphire, the hyacinth, and the topaz, so, too,
God reveals himself in an infinite variety of forms in dif-
ferent orders of creation."

The same freedom of form and the same monistic ten-
dency as regards the matter, joined with the deepest and
purest religious feeling, we find in Hugo of St. Victor,
the fii-st great mystic of the Middle Ages.

§ 35. Hugo of St. Victor

We observe a most striking diiTerence between Hugo of
Blankenburg,° a raonk of St. Victor at Paris, (1096-1140),

^ Philosophia minor, I., 23.

2 Died 1154. Conun. in Buelh. de trin. ; De sex principiis.

« Died IISO. Opera, ed. Giles, 5 vols., 0.\ford, 1S18; [also in
Migne's collection, vol. 199; C. Schaarschniidt, ./(>/K/;///e.s' Saresberien-
m, etc., Leipsic, 1862. — Th.].

* Polycralicm, I., 1, 5; III., 1 ; VIF., 17.

6 Opera, Venice, 1.5H8 ; Rouen, KJlS; [Migne, vols. IT.')-]??; Lieb-
ner, Hugo von St. Viktor, Leipsic, iS.-jr,; Pieger, Gcschichte der
deutxchen Myslih im Mittelaller, etc., Munich, 1875. — Tic]

228 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

and his illustrious contemporary. Abelard is a French-
man : he has a perfect mania for clearness, precision, and
form ; his faith is a matter of knowledge ; logic is his
"god." Hugo is of German origin. His tastes as well
as his duties exclutle him from the brilliant scenes in
which the genius of Abelard unfolds itself. In the soli-
tude of his cell, he devotes himself to study, meditation,
and contemplation. He is no less independent than Abe-
lard, but with him it is all a matter of feeling rather than of
reflection. He is a skilful dialectician, but opposed to the
formalistic rationalism of the School. Although his liber-
alism differs very much from that of Abelard, he arrives at
similar results. Rationalism and mysticism both tend
towards monism. Hence mysticism exercises a no less
harmful influence upon the dogma than rational criticism,
during the Middle Ages ; hence, also, mysticism and pan-
theism are synonymous in France.

Hugo's views, especially as set forth in his work, De
sacramentis christiance fidei, are surprisingly bold. An
absolute orthodoxy does not seem to him to be essential to
salvation, or even possible. We ma}^ according to him, be
thoroughly convinced of the truth of the dogmas without
agreeing on their interpretation ; unity of faith by no
means implies identity of opinions concerning the faith.i
It is impossible to have uniform notions of God, because
God transcends all human conception. This is a charac-
teristic trait of mysticism, and essentially distinguishes it
from the rationalism of Abelard and Anselm. Although
assuming with the latter that the Trinity is simply supreme
power (the Father), supreme intelligence (the Son or the
Revealer), and supreme goodness (the Holy Ghost), Hugo
teaches that the infinite Being is absolutely incompre-
hensible.

God is not only supra-intelligible ; nay, we cannot even

"^ De sacramentis, I., p. x., c. 6.

HUGO OF ST. VICTOR 229

conceive him by analogy. What, indeed, is analogous to
God ? The earth ? The heaven ? The spirit ? The soul ?
None of all these is God. You say: I know that these
tilings are not God; but they bear some resemblance to
him, and may therefore serve to define him. You might as
well show me a body in order to give me an idea of mind.
Your example would surely be inappropriate, and yet the
distance from mind to body is less than that between God
and mind. The most opposite creatures differ less among
themselves than the Creator differs from the creature.
Hence it is impossible to understand God, who exists only
for faith. ^ For Abelard, the pure dialectician, an incom-
prehensible God is an impossible God; for Hugo, tlie intui-
tionist and mystic metaphysician, he is the liighest reality.
Hugo was the first, after St. Augustine, to pay serious
attention to psychology. He is an earnest champion of
animism in this field. Body and soul are, in his opinion,
separate substances, without being absolutely opposed to
each other ; for there is a double bond of union between
them : the imagination, which is, so to speak, the corporeal
element of the soul, and sensibility, which is, as it were,
the spiritual element of the body. The soul possesses
three fundamental foj'ces: natural force, vital force, and
animal force. The natural force has its seat in the liver,
where it prepares the blood and the humors whieli are dis-
tributed through the veins over the entire body. It is
alternately appetitive, retentive, expulsive, and distributive,
and is common to all animals. The vital force, which
resides in the heart, manifests itself in the function of
respiration. It purifies the blood by means of inhaled air,
and causes it to circulate through the arteries. It also pro-
duces vital heat.2 The animal or psychic force, which is

^ De sacramenlis, I., p. x., c. 2.

'^ Hugo has a vague idea of the ciiTuliilinn lA' liu' lilood ;iinl llin
difference between venous and artciiid l)lood. He also seems to regard
the liver as the cliief organ for tlie preparation of tlie vital Ihiid.

230 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

situaled in the brain, produces sensation, movement, and
thought. Each of these manifestations of the soul employs
a different region of the brain. Sensation is connected
with the anterior portion, movement with the posterior
portion, and thought with the middle portion of this organ.
We have not two different souls: a sensitive soul, the
principle of corporeal life, and an intelligent soul, the prin-
ciple of thought. The soul Qanirna') and the spirit {ani-
mus sive s-piritus) are one and the same principle. The
spirit is this principle considered in itself and indepen-
dently of the body : the soul is this same principle in so far
as it animates the body.^

There is a genuineness about these lines of the De anima
that contrasts with the fruitless quibblings of dualistic
spiritualism ; and when in the Zihri didascalici Hugo of
St. Victor traces the successive stages of psychical life
from the plant to man, he seems to anticipate evolution
and comparative psychology.

§ 36. The Progress of Free Thought

The disciple of Hugo, the Scotchman Richard,^ Prior
of St. Victor, outlines a system of religious philosophy in
his De trinitate that breathes the same spirit of free inves-
tigation as the writings of his master. This may be seen
from the following characteristic lines : " I have often
read," he says, " that there is but one God, that this God
is one as to substance, three as to persons ; that the divine

1 De anima, II., 4 : Uiius idemqiie spiritus ad seipsum dicitur spnr-
itus, et ad corpus anima. Spiritus est in quantum est ratione pra:dita sub-
stantia; anima in quantum est vita corporis. . . . Non duce animcB,
sensualis et rationalis, sed una eademque anima et in semet ipsa vivit per
intellectum et corpus sensijicat per sensum.

2 Died 1174. Opera, Venice, 1506; Paris, 1518; [Migne, vol. 194;
J. G. V. Engelhardt, Richard von St. Victor und Johannes Rmjshroek,
Erlangen, 1838. — Tr.].

THE PROGKESS OF EKEE THOUGHT 231

persons are distinguished from each other by a characteris-
tic propert}' ; that these three persons are not three gods,
but one only God. We frequently hear and read such
statements, but I do not remember ever having read how
they are proved. There is an abundance of authorities
on these questions, but an extreme dearth of arguments,
proofs, and reasons. Hence, the problem is to find a
firm, immovable, and certain basis on which to erect the
system." ^

Richard finds such a basis for the dogma of the Trinity
in the idea of divine love, which necessarily creates an ob-
ject for itself. But tins proof he does not regard as sufii-
cient. AVhile liis De triuitate is conceived in the spirit
of Abelard, Ins Be cuntemplatiom openly espouses Hugo's
views. Richard abandons the attempt to reach God by
the reasoning powers, and substitutes feeling for reflection.
He distinguishes six stages in the mystical ascension of
the sold towards God. In the higher stages the soul is
expanded, raised above itself, delivered from itself {dilatatio,
sublevatio. alienatio, excessus). HoAvever, whether you call
him a mystic or a rationalist, Richard teaches a kind of
Neo-Platonic emanation and the identity of nature and
of grace.

Alaxus of Lisle,'-^ though an orthodox cliurchman,
tries to construct a sj'stem of dogmatics by means of a
strictly matlicmatical metliod, and concludes that every-
thing is in God and God in ever3-thing.

Robert of Melun ^ distinguishes — a serious symptom !
— hetween event as f^ui secundum rcrum ncituram contingunt^
et evenius qui contingunt secundum Dei potentiam quce supra

1 r., cii. o-o.

2 Alaims ab insulis, proffssor at Paris, flierl 1203. Opera, ed. by

Visch, Antwerp, 105:5; fvol. 120, Alit^iic].

8 Dif'd 1173. Suiiuiiu tlieolofjki (llaiir(jau, in tlic wmk filed, 1.,
pp. '.V-\2 fT.).

232 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

reru'in naturam est. He is, however, truly devoted to the
Church and its doctrines, defending it against the heresies
which begin to threaten it. There are people, he says,
who deny the miraculous conception of Christ on the
jrround that such a phenomenon would be contrary to the
natural course of events. But is not God, the author
of nature, above nature, and has he not the power to
chano-e the regular course of nature? How are these
doubters going to explain the origin of Adam and Eve?
Just as the protoplasts could originate without an earthly
mother, Jesus was able to come into the world without
a human father.

In addition to these attempts at Christian pliilosophy
we have the HigJit Books of Sentences by the Englishman,
Robert Pulleyn,^ and the Four Books of Sentences by
Peter of Novaro, or the Lombard {Magister sententiarum).^
Peter the Lombard's work, the success of which soon
eclipsed PuUeyn's, forms a complete sj'stem of dogmatics.
It considers a whole host of questions which betray the bar-
renness of Scholastic discussions, but wliich also show what
progress has been made by thought in its opposition to the
guardiansliip of the Church : How can we reconcile divine
prescience with free creation? (If God foresaw that he
would create, then he had to create, and creation is not an
act of freedom. If God did not foresee it, Avhat becomes
of his omniscience ?; Where was God before creation ? (He
could not have been in heaven, for heaven too was created.)
Could God have made things better than he has made
them? Where were the angels before the creation of
heaven ? Can angels sin ? Have they a body ? In what
form do God and the angels appear to men ? How do de-

1 Died about 1154.

2 Died 1164, Bishop of Paris. Lihri quatiior senientiaruvi (Venice,
1477 ; Bale, 1516, etc. Migne, vol. 192) ; [F. Protois, Pierre Lombard,
etc., Paris, 1881. — Tr.].

THE PROGRESS OF FREE THOUGHT 233

mons enter into men ? What was Adam's form before his
appearance on earth ? Why was Eve taken from a side and
not from some other part of Adam's body ? Why was she
created while Adam was asleep ? Would man be immortal
if he had never sinned ? And in that ease how would men
have multiplied ? Would children have come into the world
as full-grown men ? Why did the Son become man ? Could
not the Father and the Holy Ghost have become man?
Could God have become incarnate in Avoman as easily as
in man? These hoivs and why's, multiplied without end,
betray the naive curiosity and the charming indiscretion
peculiar to the child, but they are at the same time unmis-
takable symptoms of the coming maturity and freedom of
thought.

The Sentences intensified the pious mystics' dislike for
the subtleties of dialectics. Graduall}^ abandoning sys-
tematic theology, mysticism turns its attention to prac-
tical Christianity, to preaching and the composition of
devotional books ; and while the Master of the Sentences
professes to serve the Church with no less zeal than Robert
of Melun, Walter of St. Victor, who died about 1180, de-
nounces the Lombard, his pupil Pierre of Poitiers, Gilbert
of I^orrde, and Abelard, as the four lahjrinths of France in
whicli we must take care not to lose ourselves.^ But tliis
opposition merely helped to develop heresy. A distinction
is made not onl}- between the effects of the divine will and
the effects of nature, but between philosophical truth and
religious truth. Tlie view begins to prevail that a thing
may be true in philosophy without being true in religion,
and vice versa. A vague suspicion arises that the Church
is fallible, and tliat a l)reach between faith and science,
theology and philosopliy, is not impossible.

A number of critical thinkers, influenced by Arabian
pantheism, were bold enougli to defend tlic ])]iil(is()])hy of

* ])u Boulay, Ilisloria u)iicersitatis I'arisiensis, vol. 1., p. Wl..

234 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

immanency. They regarded the three persons of the Trin-
ity either as three successive manifestations of the Divine
Being, or as three different stages in the development of
the human conception of God. The Father is the ,God
of the Ohl Testament, God dwelling in heaven ; the Son is
the God of the New Testament, God bridging tlie chasm
and coming nearer to man ; the Holy Ghost is the God of
the future, the true God conceived as the universal and
omnipresent Being. God is everything and produces
everything in all things. He is, therefore, not only pres-
ent in the consecrated host, but also in the daily bread.
His spirit manifested itself in the great men of Greece as
well as in the Prophets, Apostles, and Fathers. Tliere is
no other heaven than a good conscience, no other hell than
remorse ; and the worsliip of saints is idolatry.

These doctrines, which were ably taught by Simon of
Tournay, Amalric of Bena, and David of Dinant,^ spread
rapidly among the clergy and the laity. About tlie year
1200 they formed a formidable though secret opposition to
the supreme authority of tradition. The Church, seriously
threatened in its unity, averted the danger by burning a
great number of heretics at the stake and anathematizing
the phj^sics of Aristotle, from which David of Dinant was
accused of having drawn his heresies (1209).

^ For the pantheistic heresy of Amalric and David, see Ch.
Schmidt, Histoire et doctrine de la secte des Cathares, 2 vols., Paris,
1849.

SECOND PERIOD
THE REIGN OF PERIPATETIC SCHOLASTICISM »

A. Semi-Realistic Peripateticism
8 37. Growing Influence of the Philosophy of Aristotle

We have pointed out the relation existing between Pla-
tonic realism and the Catholic system. In Catholicism as in
Platonism, in the Chnrch as in Plato's State, the universal
is superior to the particular ; the whole precedes, rules, and
absorbs the parts ; the Idea is the true reality, the power
superior to all individual existences. The philosophy of
a period reflects the spirit peculiar to that period. The
heroic age of Catholicism, the age of faith which produced
the Crusades and built the Gothic cathedrals, could not
but have an essentially idealistic, Platonic, and Augus-
tinian philosophy. Scotus Erigena and St. Anselm were
the great representatives of this epoch. But even in the
writinsfs of these men, and still more so in those of their
successors, we discover, beneath the seeming harmony of
their jjhilosophy and theology, contrasts, disparities, and
contradictions. E^rigena culminates in monism ; William
of Champeaux, in the philosophy of identity ; Abelard, in
determinism ; Alanus, Gilbert, and Amalric of Bena, in
pantheism. The Schoolmen of the period, if we may be-
lieve them, are convinced that reason and tlie dogma agree ;
and their philosophy merely aims to prove the agreement
an<l to justify the faith. But it is certain that from 1200
on this conviction was gradually sliaken. As soon as Scho-

^ A. .Tonrdaiii, Reclie.rches critiques sur I'df/e el I'orli/ltir de;; Irddur
lions Iftiiues iV Arislote, Paris, 1819; L'd ed., 1813.

236 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

lasticism discriminated between philosophical truth and re-
ligious truth, it divided into the disparate elements which
it professed to unite, and sealed its doom. Scholasticism
had not reached the climax of its development before it
began to show symptoms of decay. It needed a power-
ful stimulus to keep it alive ; new life and vigor had to
be infused into it from without ; this it received from
Aristotle.

At the beginning of the thirteenth century, Christian
Europe knew nothing of Aristotle's writings except a part
of the Organon in the Latin translation ascribed to Boethius.
From this time on, things rapidly change. About 1250,
Robert, Bishop of Lincoln, translates the Nicomackean EtJiics
into Latin. The Dominicans Albert of BoUstiidt and St.
Thomas of Aquin write valuable commentaries on the
Stagirite, and in every way encourage the translation of his
works. But it is particularly^ to the Arabians ^ that the
Christian Middle Ages owe their knowledge of his treatises
on physics and ontology. During the eleventh and twelfth
centuries, Avicenna in Persia and Averroes in Spain pub-
lish commentaries on them, and either by oral teaching
or by their written works intensify the interest for Peri-
patetic philosophy. Two royal friends of letters, Roger II.
of Sicily and the Emperor Frederick II., surround them-
selves with Arabian scholars, under whose direction Latin
translations of Aristotle and his commentators are made.
These translations are presented to the universities of
Bologna, Paris, and Oxford. In this way thousands of
students become acquainted with the doctrines of the great
Greek. Prior to this time, only Aristotle the logician had
been studied, and that, too, rather superficiall}-. Hence-
forth, Aristotle the moralist, the physicist, and the meta-
physician, becomes an object of study.

The Aristotelian system was an innovation, and conse-

1 See p. 210, note 2.

GROWING INFLUENCE OF PHILOSOPHY OP ARISTOTLE 237

quently the conser^-ative Church had to combat it. For was
not its author both a heathen and a favorite of the disciples of
the false prophet, and, therefore, the incarnation of all anti-
Christian tendencies ? Was he not, in a certain measure,
the soiu'ce of the heresies of David of Dinant and his con-
sorts ? The Church condenuied Aristotle's treatises on
physics in 1209, and his Metaphysics in 1215. But she
soon saw the error of her ways. From 1250 on, she
allowed public lectures on Aristotle to be delivered at
Paris ; and fifty years later the Stagirite became her offi-
cial pliilosopher, whom one could not contradict without
being accused of heresy ; he is the precursor Christi in
rehus naturalihus, sicitt Joannes Baptista in rebus gratuitis.
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 Churcli a system
wliich 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 will.
Christian thought could not help returning to this funda-
mental conception of science, in the course of its develop-
ment, wliile the Church could no more oppose it than she
could hinder the formation of the European States. Slie
could not destroy these States, and tlierefore made them
subject to herself; she was unal)le to extirpate the con-
ception of nature, and tlierefore drew it into lier service.
Now, the metaphysics of Aristotle was adniiral)ly fitted for
such a [)ur[)OS('. 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 advantaofe resultinof 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
tlie 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

PERIPATETICS OF THE THlRtEENTH CENTURY 239

the influence of the Stagirite necessarily introduced into
Sehohisticism a new element, not very favorahle to the
spiritual omnipotence of the Chui-ch : 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 the more abundant
material at their disposal, more learned than their prede-
cessors. At their head stands the Englishman Alex-
A^'DER 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.

William of Auvergne, Bishop of Paris,^ whose learn-
ing equalled that of Alexander, wrote a series of treatises
inspired by Aristotle, and a voluminous work, De universo,
a kind of metaphysics, the wonderful erudition of which
proves that the author was thorouglily 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 Vincext of Beauvais,^ the teacher of
the sons of St. Louis, gathers the treasures of learning and
of Peripatetic speculation in his Speculum quadruplex : na-
turale, doctrinale, morale, et liistoriale. He cites almost all
the writings of Aristotle, and already speaks triumphantly
of tlie nova loyica as opposed to the logica fetus. He is an

' Dif'il Vl\'>. Summa unirerscE thcolofi'ict, Venice, L")70.

2 I)if;d 1210. Opera, ed. Blaise Leferon, (Jrleans, 1071; [N. Valois,
Guillawne d'Auuergne, Paris, l.S8()].

* Died 1204. Speculum fii.ctriitdle, Straslmri^, 1173; S/x-culntn tjun-
thupler, clr., 1021.

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 {incorporatio). A new terminology is used
by this Schoolman to express Aristotelian conceptions.
The Ti ean of Aristotle, for example, becomes the quidditas.
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-
phi/sicum and universale logicnm, 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-
tifies 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 metaphysictnn 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, 1876.]

ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN 241

propagation of the Peripatetic philosophy. He manifests
a remarkable taste for natural science, in which respect
he anticipates Roger Bacon, Raymundus Lullus, and the
scientilic Renaissance. We see how danp-erous the Peri-
patetic alliance proved to the Church !

The Franciscan John of Fidaiiza, known as St. Bona-
VENTUKA,^ is less learned and less interested in nature, but
more speculative than Albert. He admires both Aristotle
and Plato, rational philosophy and contemplative mysti-
cism, piet}' and knowledge, thus uniting in liis person two
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 seraphicus.

Filially, two illustrious rivals complete the Peripatetic
galaxy of the tliirteenth 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

THo:yrAS of Aquin 2 (Aquino), the son of a noble family
in the kingdom of Naples, preferring the peaceful pleas-

^ Died 127-4. Author of a Commentary on the Sentences of the Lom-
bard, of an Itinerarium mentis in Dewn, conceived in the spirit of the
mystics of St. Victor, etc. Edition of Strasburg, 1482, Rome, 1588, ff.,
etc.; [K. Werner, Die Psychologic imd Erkenntnisshhre dcs Bouav&ntura,
Vienna, 1876.]

2 Opera omnia, Rome, 1570 (18 foHo vols.); Venice, 1504; Ant-
werp, 1612; Paris, 1660; Venice, 1787; Parma (25 vols.), 1852-71;
[Thomas Aquinads opera omnia jussn impensaque Leonis XITl., P. M.
edila, vols. I. & II., Rome (Freiburg i. H.), 1882, 84]; Ch. Joiudain,
La philosophic de Saint Thomas d' A qtiin, Pari.s, 1858; Cacheux, De la
philosophic dc Saint lltouias, Pari.s, 1858; [Karl 'NAVrner, Der hcUiqe
Thomas von Aquino, 3 vols., Regen.slnirg, 1858 IT. ; Z. Gonzales, Estudios
sobre la filosofia dc S. Tmnds, 3 vols., Manila, 1864 (Cu-nnan translation
by C. J. \olte, Regen.sburg, 1885). — Tu.] He was called doctor
aufjellcus.

242 PHILOSOPHY OF 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 eye 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 tiie Christian Occident
with the Aristotelian philosophy as set forth in the Greek
text, particularly with the Physics and Metaphysics^ 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 de materia;
natura, de ente et essentia, de jprincipiis naturce, de jjrincijno
individuationis, de universalihus, etc.). His Summa theologies,
which gradually eclipsed the Sentences of Peter the Lom-
bard, forms the basis of the dogmatic teachings of the
Chiu'ch,

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 vocabulary is in part
derived from the system of St. Thomas.

Philosophy proper or the 'first philosophy has for its ob-
ject being as such (ens in quantum ens = to ovfj 6v). There
are two kinds of beings {entia) : objective, real, essential
beings (esse in re), and beings that are mere abstractions of
thought or negations, such, for example, as poverty, blind-
ness, and imperfection in general. Poverty, blindness,
and privation exist ; they are entia (ovtu), but not essen-

ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN 243

tice {ovaiat)} Essences, substances, or beings properly
so called {essentia^ substanticc) 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 actic, while matter
is as yet merely in j^otentia. In a general sense, matter
is everything tliat can be, everything that exists in pos-
sibility. According as the possible thing is a substance or
an accident, metaphysics distinguishes between materia ex
qua oliquid fit (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 intdlectus). Materia
ex qua does not exist in itself; materia in qua exists as a
relatively-independent subject {suhjectum). 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 potentia) and form {esse in actii) is generatio Q^iveadai)^
whicli 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 remains immatci'ial and is sub-
ject neither to generation noi- decay. The more imperfect
a form is, the more it tends to increase tlie 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 whicli all differences of person are
constantly merged in tlie unity of essence. Since God

^ Opuxcxilum (If. entc. el fssfnlin.

^ Opusc. <lc jiiin'i/iiis iKilttrre. 8 j,] ^ q 3_

244 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

alone is pure form [actus 'pu-'us)^ without matter and con-
sequently without imperfection (matter being that Avhicli
does not yet exist, or the lack of being), God alone is the
perfect arid 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 things, they are the things them-
selves. Things first exist, and then man thinks them : in
God, thought precedes the things, 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. Pliilosophy 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 might 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 e.cclesim, and,
in so far as Aristotle is the precursor of Christ in the scien-
tific sphere, ancilla Aristotelis. 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 matter of the higher stage. The

1 Summa theologice, I., question 4.

2 I<1., question 2, article 1.

ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN 245

hierarchy of bodies is completed in the natural life of mail,
and this life, in turn, becomes the foundation, and, in a
certain measure, the material for a higher life, the spiritual
life, wliich is developed in the shadow of the Clmreh and
nourished by its Word and its sacraments, as the natural
life is nourished by the bread of the earth. The realm of
nature is therefore to the realm of grace, the natural man
to the Christian, philosophy to tlreology, matter to the sacra-
ment, the State to the Church, and the Emperor to the
Pope, what the means are to the end, the plan to the exe-
cution, the potcntia to the actus.

The imiverse, which consists of the two realms of nature
and of grace, is the best possible world. For God in his
inthiite wisdom conceived the best of worlds ; he could not
have created a less perfect world without detracting from
his wisdom. To say that God conceived perfection and
realized an imperfect world would presuppose an opposi-
tion between knowledge and will, between the ideal prin-
ciple and the real principle of things, ^hich contradicts
thought as well as faith. Hence the divine will is not a
will of inchfference, and the freedom of God, far from being
S}Tionymous with caprice and chance, is identical with
necessity.

In spite of seeming contradictions, tlie same is true of
the human will. Just as the intellect has a ])iineij)le (lea-
son) which it cannot discard without ceasing to l)e itself,
the will has a principle from Avhich it cannot deviate with-
out ceasing to be free : the good. The will necessarily
tends to the good ; but sensuality tends to evil and thus
paralyzes the efforts of the will. Hence sin arises, which
has its source, not in the freedom of indifference or of
choice, but in sensuality,^ Tliere is moral predestina-
tion, but not arl)itrary yn-edcstination, for the divine will
itself is suborflinated to reason. Dclcnniuism extended
1 Suimna theolut/iie, <iuestion b'2; Contra (jcul'dts, III.

246 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

to God loses the offensive character which it had in the
theology of St. Augustine.

The system of St. Thomas marks both the climax of the
development of Catholic metaphysics and the beginning of
its fall. Before the days of St. Thomas, Scholastic philos-
ophy had shown symptoms of decline ; in him it shines
with a light before Avhich the most illustrious names pale.
His devotion to the Church and its interests, his philosophi-
cal talents, which he employs in the service of Catholicism,
and his faith in the perfect harmony between the dogma
and philosophical truth as set forth in Aristotle, make him
the most typical doctor of the Church after St. Augustine
and St. Anselni. But his faith, ardent though it be,
does not possess the strength of an unshakable convic-
tion ; it is rather a willed faith, an energetic will con-
stantly struggling against the thousand difficulties Avhich
reflection throws in its way. From St. Thomas downwards,
reason and Catholic faith, official theology and philosopliy,
are differentiated and become more or less clearly con-
scious of their respective principles and interests. Meta-
physics continued, for a long time, to be subject to
theology; but though dependent, it henceforth had a
separate existence, a sphere of activity of its own.

Pliilosophy proper receives its official sanction, as it
were, by the organization of the four Parisian faculties, an
event wdiich occurred during the lifetime of St. Thomas.
This period marks the decline of Scholasticism. The
theologians themselves, with John Duns Scotus at their
head, do all they can do to hasten it.

§ 40. Duns Scotus

JoHX Duns Scotus of Dunston (Northumberland), a
monk of the order of St. Francis, professor of philosophy
and theology at Oxford and Paris, was the most industri-

DUNS SCOTUS 247

ous among the Schoolmen. Although he tiled at the age
of thirty-four (1308), his writings fill a dozen volumes.^

We have just seen how philosophy was officially recog-
nized as a science distinct from theology. During the
times of Duns Scotus, i. e., about the end of the tliirteenth
century, philosophy formed an independent science by the
side of theology, and even dared to oppose the latter. The
philosophers, said Duns Scotus, differ from the theologians
as to whether man has any need of acquiring, by super-
natural means, knowledge wliich his reason cannot attain
by natural means. This statement not only shows the
existence of a philosophy that is independent of theology,
but the disagreement which has existed between philoso-
phers and theologians ever since.

Duns Scotus, like a genuine Schoolman, occupies a
position between the two camps. With the theologians
he recognizes the need of revelation ; but he agrees with
the philosophers that St. Augustine is wrong in assuming
that man can know absolutely nothing of God without
supernatural revelation. With the theologians he de-
clares that the Bible and the teachings of the Church are
the supreme norms of pliilosophic thought ; but he is, on
the other hand, a philosopher and a rationalist to the ex-
tent of believing in the authority of the Bible and of
ecclesiastical tradition, only because the doctrines of the
Bible and the Church conform to reason. Hence reason is,
in his eyes, the liighest authority, and the sacred texts have
for him but a derived, conditional, and relative authority.
With this as his guiding principle, he does what no School-
man had done before him : he attempts to prove the credi-
bility of Holy Writ, and, in choosing his arguments, he evi-
dently gives the preference to the internal ])roofs.2

1 Opera omnia, Lyons, 1639. For the system of Duns Scotus, see
Rittcr, Vol. Vlir.; [Werner, Stiickr.
' D. S f/i Mdfjifitnim spnfi'nlltiruin.

248 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

The more familiar we become with Schohistic literature,
the less apt are we to exaggerate the progress of free
thought from the thirteenth to the nineteenth centuries.
The historians who endeavor to trace all modern negations
to the Reformation ignore, or affect to ignore, the fact that
in the ninth century the Catholic Scotus Erigena denied
eternal punislmient ; that in the twelfth, the Catholic Abe-
lard declared the teachings of the Greek philosophers to be
superior to those of the Old Testament ; that in the thir-
teenth, a great number of Catholics refused to believe in
the miraculous conception and in the resurrection of Christ ;
til at in the same century, or two hundred years before the
Reformation, and at a time when the power of the Holy
See was at its height, St. Thomas and Duns Scotus found
themselves obliged to prove, with all the arts of logic, the
need of revelation and the credibility of the Divine Word ;
finally, that these submissive, devoted, and orthodox doc-
tors of the Church combined with their Clnistian convic-
tions a freedom of thought, the like of which is but rarely
met with in the Protestant theology of the seventeenth
century.

The Thomistic system borders on pantheism, while the
philosophy of Duns Scotus is decidedlyPelagian ; the illus-
trious Dominican sacrifices the freedom of the individual
to the great glory of God ; while the Franciscan doctor
believes that he is rendering God a no less signal service
by exalting the individual and free-will at the expense of
grace.

Duns Scotus serves the order to wliich he belongs as
faithfully as his God and the Church. The great mediaeval
orders are the forerunners of the theological parties of
Protestantism. They are, at present, merged in the indi-
visible unity of the Roman orthodoxy ; during the period
of which we are speaking, they Avere real parties, opposed
to each other, not only on practical questions, but on points

DUNS SCOTUS 249

of doctrine Avliich do not, even now, strike us as secondary.
The rivalry between these two orders often infused new
life into Scholasticism. The contest between Duns Scotus
and the Scotists against Thomism really represents a strug-
gle for Church supremacy between two powerful orders.
The glory reflected upon the Franciscan order by St.
Bonaventura was dimmed by the fame of the Dominicans,
Albert the Great and Thomas of Aquin. Jealous of the
good name of his order, Duns Scotus endeavors to expose
and refute what he calls the errors of Thomism. Thomas
remaining true to the dogmatic and didactic tenets of his
order, is the apostle of faith and grace. Duns Scotus,
whose heart is also hlled with the spirit of liis order, — a
spirit of living and practical piety, — becomes the apostle
of action, meritorious works, and human freedom. With
an acumen that is wholly in keeping with his title, doctor
subtilis^ he undertakes the criticism of St. Thomas.

Thomistic determinism, assuming as it does the superi-
ority of the intellect over the will, has the true ring of
Catholic philosophy. By benchng the will beneath the yoke
of an absolute principle, it humiliates the self-love of the
individual, desti'oys his confidence in his own powers, and
makes him conscious of his insignificance. But when the
foundations of the system are laid bare they are found to
be very weak. Thus, on the one hand, it makes God liim-
self a relative being, whose will is the slave of his intelli-
gence. On the other hand, it does more than humiliate
the individual: it discourages him and cbives him to
despair or moral indifference. Should the Church adopt
this system, it would without fail soon cease to be the
sanctuary of virtue and the mother of saints. Hence the
jyrimacy of the intelligence must be opposed by tliat of
the will,^ and for determinism we nuist sul)stitute tlie true

1 Tilt! voluntarism Q^ Duns Scotus is to tli<; intclltcliKilIsm of 'I'lioiniis
what the Kant of the Criti'jue of /'radical Rcaaon is to Uic Kant of the

250 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

philosophy and the real thought of Aristotle: the doctrine
of divine and human liberty.

If we would not confuse t\o true God with the Fate or
the natura naturans of the Neo-Platonists, we cannot hold,
with the Thoniists, that the world is the necessary product
of his essence, his intelligence or his will. God created the
world by an act of freedom. It would have been possible
for liim not to create it. His will was not inclined that
way by any higher principle, for it is itself the highest
principle of divine acts. The existence of the world, far
from being necessary, is the free effect of the free will of
God.i Abelard is therefore wrong in assuming that God
could create only what he created, and that what he cre-
ated he created necessarily ; and Thomas is in error when
he teaches that the world is necessarily the best possible
world. God does not create all that he can create; he
creates only what he desires to call into existence.

The first cause of things, the divine will, is consequently
also the supreme law of created spirits. Goodness, jus-
tice, and the moral law are absolute, only in so far as they
are willed by God ; if they were absolute independently of
the divine will, God's power would be limite ! by a law not
depending on him, and he would no longer be the highest
freedom or, consequently, the Supreme Being. In reality,
the good is therefore the good, only because it is God's
pleasure that it should be so.^ God could, by virtue of his
supreme libert}^, supersede the moral law which now gov-
erns us by a new law, as he superseded the Mosaic law by
that of the Gospel ; above all, he could — and who knows
but what he really does in many cases ? — exempt us from
doing good without our ceasing, on that account, to be

Critique of Pure Reason, and what the panthelism of Schopenhauer is
to the panlogism of Hegel.

1 In ilf . sentent., I., distinction, 39, question, 1.

2 Id., distinction 44.

DTOvS SCOTUS 251

good. In the creation as in the government of the world,
God knows no other hiw, no other rule, no other principle,
than his own freedom. And it is because he is free to
exempt us, in case he so desii-es, from carrying out any
particular law of the moral code that the Church in tui-n
has the right to grant dispensations. If God is not abso-
lutely free in tins matter, as he is in all things ; if he is,
as Thomas of Aquin claims, a being absolutely determined
in his will by his supreme wisdom, what becomes of the
right of indulgences ? Like God, man is free ; the Fall did
not deprive him of free-will ; he has formal freedom, i. e.,
he may will or not will ; and he has laatcrial freedom, i. e.,
he can will A. or will B. (freedom of choice or indifference).

These doctrines, though diametrically opposed to St.
Augustine's, could not be disagreeable to the Church, the
Pelagian tendencies of which they reflected and encour-
aged. But they concealed a danger, and the Church, which
failed to canonize Duns Scotus, seems to have appreciated
it. By Iris emphatic affirmation of individual liberty, the
subtle doctor proclaimed a new principle, an anti-authori-
tative power, which grew from century to century, and
finally led to the emancipation of the religious conscience
and the downfall of ecclesiastical tradition as the su-
preme autliority in matters of faith and conscience. So,
too, on the subject of universals, Duns Scotus approaches
nominalism and empiricism, though striving to remain true
to the realistic and rationalistic system upheld by the
Church. All his sympathies are, at bottom, for the indi-
vidual ; for the will is his principle ; and though reason is
common to all, the will is what characterizes the individual.
The question of individuation is his favorite problem. His
contemporaiy, Heniy Goethals,^ following the exami)le of
William of Chainpeaux, regarded the principle of individu-

1 l-217-l-'!'o. Quodlihela theologica,V[\\\\\b\>^\ Sunima lliml., Vnrh,
1520; I'cirara, I'ilG.

252 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

ation as a mere negation ; while St. Thomas based it on
matter (the non-being). Duns Scotus, however, declares
it to be a positive jDrinciple, and gives it the name of
lioecceitas. The individual is, according to him, the sum of
two equally positive and real principles : the quidditas (the
universal, or the type common to the individuals of one and
the same species) and the Jtcecceitas, the principle of the
individuality or of the difference of individuals. The quid-
ditas has no reality apart from the hceeceitas, nor the hccc-
ceitas apart from the quidditas. Reality is found in the
union of the two principles, of the ideal and the real, that
is, in the individual.

By his doctrines of individual liberty and Jicecceitas Duns
Scotus paves the way for the nominalism of his disciple
Occam. His doctrine of accidental creation hastens the
rupture between science and the authoritative rationalism
of the Church, and the advent of modern empiricism ; for
if the law^ of nature and the moral law itself are contin-
gent, all science and morality itself depend on experience
as their only basis. To place the will in the first rank in
metaphysics and reason in the second, means to subordinate
reasoning to the methods of observation and experience.
Duns Scotus not only hastens the breach between science
and dogma ; but, the breach seems to be already made
when, in his Qumstioncs subtilissimw., he rejects innate
ideas, and declares the proof of the immortality of the soul
and of the existence of God to be impossible from the
standpoint of science.

B. NoRirtsTALisTic Pekipateticism

§ 41. Reappearance of Nominalism. Durand, Occam,
Buridan, D'Ailly

The distance from the conceptualism of Vincent of Beau-
vais, Thomas of Aquin, and Duns Scotus to nominalism is

KEAPPEARANCE OF NOMINALISM 253

not o-reat. Indeed, the semi-realism of Duns Scotus re-
sembles the doctrine of Roscellinus more closely than that
of Champeaux. William Duua^^d of Saint-Pourcain,i
fii-st a disciple of St. Thomas, then influenced by the doc-
trines of 'Scotus, comes still nearer to nominalism in
formulating the following thesis : To exist means to he an
individital. Finally, the Franciscan Willia.m of Occam,^
the 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
thing, a reality {res), but a mere sign that serves to desig-
nate several similar tilings, a word {mmeii) ; 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, wliom it seeks in the individual. The same is true
of all sciences. Now, if the universal is a mere word
liaving no objective reality, and if the individual alone is
real, then there can be no anthropology, nor any science.

1 IJorn in Auvergne, died 13-32, Bishop of Meaux. Comment, in
mag. senlent., Paris, 1508; Lyons, 1568.

2 Died 1343. Quodlibela septem, Strasburg, 11!)1 ; Summa toliu!!
lugices, Paris, U88 ; Oxford, 1G75; Qiiccsliones in lihrnx plu/sicoruin,
Strasburg, 1491 ; QucBstiones et decimmex in quatuor lib. sent., Lyons,
1405; Centilogium iheoL, Lyons, 14y(i ; Ex/mxilio aurea super totam
artem veterem, Bologna, 1400. [Cf. W. A. Sclirr-ilior, Die pnHtischen uud
rdigiosen Doclrinen unter Ludwig drm Bnier, Laiidshut, 1858 ; Pranll,
Geschichte der Logik, Vol. III., pp. 327-120. — Tr.J

3 decani, fn I. I. .tentenlinruin, dist. 2, qnfstion 8.

254 PHILOSOPHY 01^ 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 :
IVie individual is the measure of all things.

The liighest science, theology, does not escape William's
sceptical criticisms. He accepts the teacliing of his 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 Church
a})andon 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 reforin 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; Centilnglum theologicum
f. I.

2 He is said to have addressed the following remark to Louis : Tu
me defendas gladio, ego le defcndam calamo.

REAPPEARANCE OF NOMINALISM 255

On the contraiy, like all true followers of St. Francis, he
felt a deep love for liis spiritual mother. And because he
loved her, he desired to see her great and hoi}- 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 Hol}^ Father.

Xominalism 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 fii'st symptoms of the
decadence of the Papal power, to wliicli 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
necessit}' 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 which the heir of Caesarean traditions had
subjected Europe. Xominalisra therefore conceals beneath
its seeming devotion to the Church and its pious contempt
for science, a mass of tendencies hostile to Catliolicism.
And the Church gives it the same reception wliich 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 tlie epoch
tcjo well to be suppressed.

The doctrines of Duiand and Occam gave the signal for
the struggle l)etween the i-ealists and nominalists. Tlie con-

256 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

flict raged during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ;
it transformed the universities into veritable iiekis 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 Burleigh, who defended it in the name of science
and philosophy ; Thomas op Bradwardine,^ Archbishop
of Canterbury, who upheld it in the name of the faith, and
accused Occam of Pelagianism ; Thomas of Strasburg,^
and Marsilius of Inghek,^ 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
only the most speculative minds ; the clear and well-defined
conceptions of nominalism 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 wa}^ 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 France.

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. s Died 1396.

* Died about 1360. He wi'ote Summa dialect , Paris, 1487; Comp.
log., Venice, 1480 ; and a series of commentaries on Aristotle, pub-
lished in Paris and Oxford.

^ Died 1425. Qucefttinnex super quatunr 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, Buiidan,
and Gabriel Biel,^ are sceptics only in metaphysics; still by
holding that we can know nothing of God, Providence, the
Fall, Kedemption, liesurrection, 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, Johx 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 eif ected 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 IS-IS, a
bachelor of theology, Nicolas of Autkicueia, 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 tliought were
as yet uncommon, but for that very reason all the more
remarkable.

Speculative philoso})liy and its anti-scholastic strivings
received a powerful ally in tlie experimental sciences,
whicli were revived Ijy the study of Aristotle's works on
physics and l)y the influence of the Aral)ian scliools of
Spain; to these we owe our S3st('iii of iiuincials, tlie
elementaiy principh'S of algcl)ra and clicniistry, an<l our

1 I'rofessor at 'I'iiliiiigcii, dii'd lliJ.j.
17

258 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

knowledge of the astronomical traditions of tlie 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 thirteenth
century, the Franciscan monk Roger Bacon,i a professor
at Oxford, recognized tlie serious imperfections in the
system, and conceived the plan of reforming it by the
introduction of the sciences. His three works, Oims
majus,^ Opus mimis, and Ojyus tertiiwi,^ the fruit of twenty
years' investigation, to which he devoted his entire for-
tune, constitute the most remarkable scientific monument of
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 1267, which marks the
appearance of his Ojpus majns. 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 this most
clear-sighted thinker of the Middle Ages upon the barren
soil of Scholasticism did not spring up until three cen-
turies later.

Albei't the Great (§ 38), though not attaining to Bacon's
eminence, shows a marked preference for the study of

1 Doctor mirabllis, 1214-1294.

2 Ed. Jebb, London, 1773, folio.

' In Rogeri Bacon Opera qucedam hactenus inedila, ed. J. J. Brewer,
London, 1859 ; Charles, Roger Bacon, sa vie, ses ouvrages, ses doctrines,
d'apres des textes inedits, Bordeaux, 1861 ; [K. Werner, Psychologic,
Erkenntniss- und Wissenscha/lslehre des Roger Baco, Vienna, 1879. —
Tk.].

DOWNFALL OF SCHOLASTICISM 259

nature, which he himself, like his age, confused with magic.
During the same epoch, Don Raymoxd Lin.LUS ^ 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 teacliings, which were recorded in numer-
ous writings, gained for him, during the succeeding cen-
turies, enthusiastic followers, whose chief concern was to
chscover 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 Ray^iond of Sabltnde,^ a professor
at Toulouse, had the boldness to prefer to books made by
human hands the hook of nature, ivkich hchig the uvrk of
God is intelligible to all.

The official philosophy, 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 witli
an ardent love for goodness. Mysticism bad for cen-
turies been the ally of Scholastic speculation ; in Scotus
Erigena, the sages of St. Victor, and St. Bonavcntura, it
tempered the cold reasonings of tlic School with its glow-
ing warmth, aiid (IcscciKlcd upon their barren logic like

^ 1234-1315. Raipmti>f/l Lull! Ojiera,^trnn]nirg,'ir)0H; Opera omnia,
ed. Sulzingcr, Maycucc, ]7"J1 It'.

^ Died 1130. Raunundi lihcr natnrd' sire crcalitrarum Qhcohxjia natu-
ralls), Strasbiirg, 1490; Paris, 1509; Siilzl):icli, 1852; Kleiber, De
Raimundi vita el srriptix, Berlin, 1850.

260 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
upon 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 the 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 tliis 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
lal)yrinth 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 Eckhart,^
the Dominican provincial of Cologne and a t}^3ical 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 Eckhart, etc, Vienna, 1864;
Lasson, Meister Eckhart, der Mystiker, Berlin, 1868] ; Ch. Jundt, Essai
sur le mysdcisme speculat'if de maltre Eckhart, Strasburg, 1871.

THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS 261

ditions of tlie Christian nirvana to which they aspire. To
tliis chiss belong John Taflep.,^ a Dominican preacher of
Cologne and Strasburg, J0H2; AVessel,"'^ and Thomas a
Ke:mpis,2 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.
Tills influence is still more pronounced in the Frenchman
John Gersox,* the chancellor, and Nicolas of Clemanges,^
the rector, of the University of Paris, whose mysticism is
nothing 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 by 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 tlic authoritative

^ Died LSOL [Editions of Tauler's sermons, Leipsic, 1498 ; Bile,
1521 f. ; Cologne, 1543. Modern edition, Frankfurt a. M., 1820 and
18G4. — Tr.]

2 Died 1489. 8 Died 1 171.

* Died 1420. [Opera, Cologne, 1483 ff.] See C. Scliniidt, Essai sw
Jean Gerson, Strasburg, 1830.

6 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 world, 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 tlie 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 Roman 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 B3'zantine 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 ci^"ilizalion 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
Bj-zantium and the last remains of the Eastern Empire fell
into the hands of the Turks (1-153). This event raised
Italy to the position which she had occupied in literature,
art, and pliilosophy two thousand years before ; she again
became Magna Graccia. In the year 1410, the Greek
scholar, Geoegius Gej^hstus Pletho,^ an ambassador to
the Council of Florence, whom the munificence of Cosmo dei
MecUci had succeeded in detaining in Italy, founded a Plu-
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, Theodorus 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 Hiiioro-
LAUS BARBAiti's, I^AUMEXTILTS Valla of Rome, and Ax-

^ Ilfpi ojf ^ \pi(TT0Ti\r)<; TTpns nXdrcowi ^ui(\)(p(T<n, Paris, 1540 ; Nd/xcoi'
(Tvyytmrprf (frafj;iiients collccttMl l)y C Alcxaiidri' and translated into
Frencli l>y A. PcUissitT, I'aris, 1858). [See F. Sc-liultze, Gcschichte iler
Philosophie der Renaissance, vol. I., Geo. Gem. Pkthon, -Fma, 1871. —
Tk.]

2 Adversus calumniatures Platonis, Rome, IKiO; [Opera onniia, cd.
MigiK", I'aris, 18fK5\

264 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

GELIJS PoLiTiANUS were zealous disciples of the exiles of
Byzantium. 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 reached the throne of St. Peter; and it is a
Avell-known fact that Leo X. and liis 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.

Marsilius Ficinus,2 a pupil of the Florentine Acad-
emy, continues the struggle begun by Bessarion in behalf of

1 Diocese of Treves. " Cusanus, whose real name was Ivi-ebs, died
in 146i. 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 foimd 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 do"ctrine of the absolute unity-God, and Schelling and Hegel by his
conception of the coincidence of contradictories. See Richard Falcken-
berg, Grundzlige der PJiilosophie des Nicolas von Cusanus, Breslau, 1880.

2' A Florentine, 1433-lt99. Florence and the century of the liter-
ary renaissance also produced the great politician and Italian patriot,
Nicolo Maoehiavelli (1469-1527), the author of 11 imncipe, 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 from
morals).

NEO-PLATONISM 265

Plato. For him, Platonism is the quintessence of human
wisdom, the key to Christianity, and the only efficient
means 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 Jolui Pico of Mirandola (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 som-ce 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 countr}^ 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. Tliey may be classed under the
title theoso'phy. Tlieosophy sliares theology's belief in the
supernatural and philosophy's faitli in nature. It forms an
intermediate stage, a kind of transition, between theology
and ])ure philosophy. It does not attain to tlie dignity of
modern experimental science; for it rests upon an inner
revelation, which is superior to sensible experience and

1 Coiiceniiii^ IIk' Cabala, see Munck, %.s7me de la Kabbalc, Viiv\s,
1812; M(!lan<jcx de philosophle jnive ct arahe, Paris, 1859.

266 riiiLOSOPHY 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 M^hich 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 liis Dc vcrho mirifico ^ and his Be
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
formulas 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 uch 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, Agrippa of Nettesheim,^ the author of a treatise,

1 Bale, 1494. 2 Hagenau, 1517. 3 Cf. §§ 25 and 26.

* Born at Cologne, 1487 ; died at Grenoble, 1535.

ARISTOTLE VERSUS ARISTOTLE 267

J)c vanitate scientiarum, directed against scholastic dogma-
tism ; in Jerome Cardaxits,^ a noted physician and mathe-
matician, whose teachings, a singular 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, Reuchlin,
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 tlian Christ,
spring, according 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, Georgiusof Trebizond, ainrrheodorus Ciaza, ardent

1 Of ravia, 1 501-1 .IT'i. Oppra omnia. Lyons, IfiO:]. Cardaiius is
reTnemberocI in the history of inathi'iiiaties by liis rule for the sohiliou
of equations of the tliird degree (Ars magna sive de regulis nlgehraicix,
published 1543, tlie date of the appearance of Copernicus's Celestial
Revoluliom). [Cf. Rixner and Sil)f'r, Beilriifje zur Geschichte der Phys-
iologie, 7 i.ts., Sulzbadi, 1819-20; 2d cd. 1829 ]

2 119:5-1511. (9/>em, IJuIe, L-,8!» ; Strasburj^, lOKI ff. [Cf. Sijrwart,
Kieine Schriftcn, I., pp. 25 ff. ; Eiicken, Beilriige, etc., pj). 32 if.]

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 misinterpreted 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 system which had been regarded as the
strongest support of the Church was found to cUsagree
with her on several essential points. A liberal Peripatetic
school, chiefly composed of laymen, was formed in oj^posi-
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 ImmortaUtij of the Soul,^ the
leader of the new school,^ Petrus Pompoxatius (Pom-
ponazzi^), boldly raises the question whether immortality

^ Tractatus ile immortalitate animae, 1516; numerous editions.

2 Called the school of Padaa, in honor of the 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 269

is a corollary of Aristotle's principles, and, with Alexander
of Aphrodisias,^ answers it in the negative. He thereby,
on the one hand, ignores the authority 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 personall}' 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-
nislied them the elements. Absolute perfection belongs to
the absolute Being alone.

The argument which infers tlie immortality of the soul

Ad. Franck, Mnralistes et pMlosophes, 2tl ed., Paris, 1874 ; [L. Ferri,
La psicologia di P. Pomponazze, Rome, 1877].

^ See on the Alexaiidrists and the Averroists, Marsilius Ficinus,
Preface to the Translation of Plolhius, Some interjirctcil Aristotle, as
did Averrocs, in the pantheistic sense; others as;re('d with Alexander
of Aphroilisias, and interiirctcd him in the deistic sense. All rejected
individual immortality and miracles.

270 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

from the necessity of an eternal reward of virtue, and an
eternal punisliment of crime, is based upon a false, or at
least inij^erfect and vulgar, conception of virtue and vice,
reward and punishment. Virtue which is exercised merely
for the sake of a reward other than itself, is not virtue.
This is proved by the fact that everybody regards an act
performed in a wholly disinterested manner, and without
the hope of some material advantage, as more meritorious
than an act performed for an advantage or to satisfy an
interest. We must distinguish between the essential re-
ward and the accidental remuneration of virtue. The
essential recompense, which is inherent in virtue and
consequently never lacking, is virtue itself and the insep-
arable joy connected with it; and the same may be said
of vice, which carries its own punishment with it, even
though it is not followed l)y external and accidental pains.
It is an incontrovertible fact that men practise righteous-
ness for the sake of the reward be3'ond the grave, and that
they abstain from crime on account of their fear of hell ;
but this 23roves that their moral ideas are still rudimentary,
and that they have need of rattles and bugbears where the
philosopher acts solely from principle.

But if the soul is not immortal, all religions are in error,
and the whole world is deceived ! Well, does not Plato
say that all men are in many respects deluded by the same
prejudice ? And does he not therefore hold of little worth
arguments based on the conse^isus gentium ? Finally, as
regards apparitions of the dead, resurrections, and ghosts :
such proofs in favor of a hereafter do not prove anything
but the marvellous power of the imagination influenced by
faith. If, as Aristotle explicitly teaches, the soul is the
function of the body, it is evident that there can be no
soul without a body. And what, then, becomes of sorcery
and the exorcism of s^jirits ? What becomes of the super-
natural ?

ARISTOTLE VERSUS ARISTOTLE 271

In his treatise On Magic,^ Pomponatius openly avows
his disbelief in miracles as the suspension of the natural
order of things ; and thoug-h lie admits the miracles of
Jesus and Moses in order to mislead the Inquisition, lie
explains them naturall}-, that is, he denies them indirectly.
And he rejects them, on the authority of the man whom
the Church considered as the staunchest supporter of the
supernaturalistic Christian, — on the authority of Aristotle.

Finally, in his treatise On Fate? he dwells, with apj^arent
satisfaction, on the contradictions involved in the doctrines
of divine prescience and providence, predestination and
moral freedom. If God ordains everything in advance,
and foresees everything, then we are not free ; if man is
free, then God does not foresee his acts, and his knowledge
is dependent on his creatures. Aristotle himself, — Pom-
ponatius does not dare to say so openly, so great is the
authority of the pliilosopher of the Church, — Aristotle
contradicts himself on this important question, the solution
of which seems to transcend the ca[)acity of human reason.
However that may be, determinism has all the logic on its
side, and Pomponatius is in sympathy with it. In that case
God is the source of evil ! Scholastic nominalism interposes.
Our philosopher is forced to admit this; but he consoles
himself with the thought that if there were not so much evil
in the world, there ivouhl not he so much good in it.

PoRTA,^ ScALiGER,* Cremonini,^ Zabarella,^ Continue
the liberal Peripateticism of Pomponatius during the six-
teenth centuiy, and advocate his theory of the soul. They

^ De naturalium effecluum adinirandorum causis sire dr. incanlalioni-
bus liber, Bale, 1550.

2 De fato, lihero arhilrio, prcedeslinnlione, proridnilia Dei, Uhri K.,
Bolof^na, 1520; Ralo, 1525 11".

8 J )!(•(], 1555. De rerum nalurnlihux prinripiis, FJoiviice, 1551.

* 11>>1-155S. Exerc. adv. C<trdaiiu»i.

» 1552-lG:n. Pr(.f('s.s<ir .it Frirara and Pailua.

• 15:}:5-15S9. Professor at I'a.liia. O/// m, Lry.lni. 15.S7.

272 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

also practise his prudent reserve, as the following motto
recomniended by Crenionini shows : Intus ut lihet, forts ut
moris est. The Church, however, kept a close watch upon
them, and suspected them of atlieism. A product of this
school, LuciLio Vanini,^ a restless and extremely vain soul,
was burnt by the Inquisition, in spite, or perhaps because
of, his declaration " that he would state his opinions con-
cerning the immortality of the soul only in case he were
old, rich, and a German." These Peripatetics of the left no
longer swear by the words of the master like the orthodox
Peripatetics. They venerate Aristotle as the highest type
of the philosophical mind; but their Peripateticism does
not consist in a servile obedience to the letter of his
writings, from which they frequently deviate.

Some, impressed by the similarity between the real
teachings of Aristotle and the Platonic and Alexandrine
doctrines, approximate the Florentine Academy, though
still following the standard of the Lyceum ; while the Pla-
tonists, on the other hand, whom a careful study of
Aristotle had initiated into the secrets of his metaphysics,
consent to a compromise between Platonism and Peripa-
teticism. On the Platonic side we have John Pico of
Mirandola, whose work on the agreement between Plato
and Aristotle remained unfinished ; on the Neo-Peripatetic
side, we have Andreas CyESALPiNUS,^ a learned naturalist,
who anticipated Harvey's discovery, and created an artificial

^ His real name was Pompeio Lucilio Vanini. In his works he
calls himself Julius Caesar Vaninus. He was born at Tauresano, near
Naples, in 1584, and burnt alive at Toulouse on the 9th of February,
1619, after having had his tongue cut off. He left two works : Amphi-
theatrum ceternce providenikc, Lyons, 1615, and De cDlmlrandis naturce
arcanis, Paris, 1616 (best known by the title Dialogues on Nature,
transl. into French by Cousin).

2 1519-1603. Physician of Clement VIII. Qucestiones peripaletl-
cce, Venice, 1571; Dasmonum investigaiio perip., Venice, 1593; compare
p. 284.

ARISTOTLE VERSUS ARISTOTLE 273

system of botany. The universe, according to Gsesalpinus,
is a living- unity, a perfect organism. The " first mover "
is the innermost substance of the world, — the substance of
which the particular tilings are the modes or determina-
tions. He is both absolute thought and absolute being.
Thouo'h a mode of the divine substance, the human soul is
none the less immortal, since its essence, thought, is inde-
pendent of the bod}-.

Still others, like Bernardino Telesto^ of Cosenza
(1508-1588), the founder of the Academia Telesiana or
Cosentina of Naples, and Francesco Patrizzi^ (1527-
1597), who were trained in the humanities as well as in the
secret science of Paracelsus and Cardanus, approximate the
naturalistic systems of the Ionian school in their cosmologi-
cal conceptions. In connection with Telesio, we must
mention the illustrious names of Giordano Bruno (§ 49)
and Francis Bacon (§ 51), both of whom knew his writings
and were influenced b}^ them.

While the speculative genius of Southern Italy was
revealing to the world the real Aristotle, Plato, Parmeni-
des, and Empeclocles, the French and Flemish thinkers on
the other side of the mountains, took a deeper interest in
moral philosophy and positive science than in metaphysical
speculation. Pyrrhonism was revived in the Essays^ of
Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) and in the writings

1 De rerum nalurn juxtn propria principia, lihri IX., Naples, 158G ;
[F. Fiorentino, Bernardino Telesio, 2 vols., Florence, 1872-74; L.
Ferri, La flosofia della not. e dottrlne di B. Telesio, Turin, 1873; cf.
also Rixner and Siher, mentioned p. 267. — Tr.].

2 Discussiones peripateticce, Venice, 1571 ff. ; Bale, 1581; Nova de
unirersis philosophia, Ferrara, 1491.

> First edition, Bordeaux, 1580; nioderji edition, with notes of all
the commentators, by IM. J. V. Leclerc, and a new study of Montaigne
by rr<?vo.st-Paradol, Paris, 1805; [Engl, transl. by .Tolin Florio, with
introduction by George Saintsbury, London, 1892; l»y C. Cotton, with
life and notes by W. C. Ilazlitt, 3 vols., 2d cd., Louden, 1892. — Tu.]

274 PHiLOSoriiY of the middle ages

of Pierre CharronI (1541-1603), Sanchez 2 (died at
Toulouse, 1632), Lamothe-Levayeu 3 (1586-1672); Sto-
icism, by Justus Lipsius* (1547-1606); Epicureanism,
by the learned physicist Gassendi,° the opponent of Car-
tesian intellectualism, (1596-1655). Although these free-
thinkers, with the exception of Gassendi, whose teachings
were again taken up by the eighteenth century, do not
contribute directly to the reform of philosophy, they at
least exert an indirect influence by discrediting the still
powerful metaphysics of the School, by exposing the use-
lessness of its formuhe and the barrenness of its disputes.
Humanists and naturalists, dogmatists and sceptics, Ital-
ians and Frenchmen, are united in the common desire
for emancipation, reform, and progress. Nature is their
watchword ; here, as in Greece, the theological age is
followed by the era of the physicists.

§ 46. The Religious Reform ^

Ideas enlighten humanity on its onward march, but the
will or the instinctive passions impel it onward.^ The

^ De la sar/esse, Bordeaux, 1601.

2 Tractatus de multum nobili et prima universali scientia, quod nihil
scitur, Lyons, 1581 ; Tractatus philosophici, Rotterdam, 164S* ; [cf. L.
Gerkrath, Francois Sanchez, Vienna, I860].

3 Cinq dialogues fails a limitation des anciens, Mons, 1673 ; Works,
Paris, 1653.

* Manuductio ad stoicam philosophiam, etc., Antwerp, 1604.

^ De vita, moribus et doctrina Epicuri, Leyden, 1647; Animadversio-
nes in Diog. L. de vita et phil. Epic, ibid., 1649; Syntagma phil. Epic,
The Hague, 1655; Opera, Leyden, 1658; Florence, 1727; [cf. Lange,
History of Materialism, I., 3, chap. 3.]

^ [K. Ilagen, Deutschlands Utterarische und religiose Verhliltnisse im
Reformationszeiialter, 3 vols., Frankfurt, 1868; M. Carriere, Die Welt-
anschauung der Reformationszeit ; W. Dilthey, Auffassting und Analyse
des Menschen im 15. u. 16. Jahrhundert, Archiv f Geschichte der Philos.,
IV. and v.; same author, Das naturliche System der Geisteswissen-
schaften im 17. Jahrhundert, ibid., IV. — Tr.]

' §4.

THE RELIGIOUS REFORM 275

Humanists demolished, piece by piece, the 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, Sealiger, 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 I The Popes them-
selves were so cultured, so liberal, and so worldly! Yet,
the spiritual onuiipotence of Rome formed one of the chief
obstacles in the way of philosophical reform, and it took a
more powerfid force to shake the colossus than the love of
lettei"s 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 tliat controlled them and im-
pelled them onward, they attacked, not the philosophical
system patronized by the Cluirch, but the Church herself
and the principle of her supreme authorit}-.

As we have seen, the media3val 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 necessary. But after the pupil becomes of age,
the l)est of guardians acts as a Ifindrance from which he
seeks deliverance. The Renaissance had actually destroyed
tlie claim, which the Church advanced, of being the sole
and privileged school, but it acknowledged tlie Churcli as
tlie liigliest religious and moral autliority. The Reforma-
tion liiiishes the work of lh<' lil'tcciith century by emanci-
pating the conscience. The sale of indulgences formed
the iminetUate occasion for the outbreak. This shameful

276 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

traffic had been legalized by the Catholic system. Since
tlie Church is God's representative on earth, whatever
she commands agrees with God's own will. Hence if she
demands money from the faithful and couples with the
contribution 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 the 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 which 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 acknowledg-ed as a truth that salvation comes
through faith alone and not by works, the dispensations con-
ferred by 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 tlie literary and the religious revival.
Tlie 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 crodless nature and a God antagonistic to
nature.

8 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 immechately 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, visible, 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 Taurellus,^ of Mompelgard (1547-
1606) and Pierre de la Ramee or Ramus,'^ (1515-1572),

1 Works, ed. Schuler and Schulthess, 8 vols., Zurich, 1S2S-42 ; [E.
Zeller, Das theolofjische Sijstem Zirincjlis, Tubingen, 1853 ; Dilthey,
A. f. G.d. Ph. VI.\

2 Philosophice Iruimphus, Bale, 1573; Alpes rccsfe (ai^ainst CcTsalpi-
nus), Frankfort, 1507; Sijnnpsis Arist. Metnphy^., Hanover, 1500; De
mundo, Aml)erg, 1003 ; Uranolnr/ia, ih., 1603; De rerum ceternitdle,
Marburg, 1004. See F. X. Schmidt aus Schwarzenberg, Nicolas
Taurelliis, der ersfe deutsche Philosoph, 2d ed., Erlangen, 1864.

' Scholarum phijs. libri VflL, Paris, 1505; ScJidI. mctnpJn/s. libri
XIV., Paris, 1560. See the monographs of Ch. Waddington (Paris,
1848) and Cli. Demaze (Paris, 18G1).

278 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

who bitterly opposed tlie routine methods and the system
of Aristotle, as then understood, the Universities continued
to teach traditional Peripateticism 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
WEirxEL,2 (1533-1503), 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, by Jacob Bohme 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 EiJiicce cloctnnre elementa, 1538. [See Dilfchey, A.f. G. d. Ph. F/.]

^ Fvccdi aeavTov, nnxce te ipsum, 1G18, 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). Seder olam s. ordo sceculo-
rum, hoc est historlca enarratio doctrince philosophicce per unum in quo sunt
omnia, 1693. [See Rixner and Siber].

* Hixtoria macro- et microcosmi metaphi/sica, pliysica et technica, Op-
penlieim, I6I7 ; Pkilos. Mosaica, Giida, 1638.

® Synopsis pJu/sices ad lumen divinum refnrmatce, Lei]3sic, 1638. [Cf.
J. Kvacsala, Ueber J. A. Comenius Philosophie, Leipsic, 1886.]

6 [Coll. Works, ed. by Schiebler, 2d ed., 1 861 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 iiber Bohme^s
Theologumena (Works, vol. TIL, pp. 357-436; also vol. XIIT.) ; II. A.
Fechner, Jacob Bohme, sein Leben und seine ScJiriflen, Gorlitz, 1853 ;
A. Peip, Jacob Bohme der deutsche Philosoph, Leipsic, 1860 ; also Car-
riere (cited before) and Windelbaud, Geschichte der neueren Philoso-
phie, vol. I., § 19 .— Tr.]

SCHOLASTICISM AND THEOSOPHY 279

ties of this cliild of the people. He divines that the visible
things conceal a great mgsteri/, and he experiences a deep
desire to unravel it. An earnest Cliiistian, he studies the
Scriptures, entreating God to enlighten him with liis Spirit,
and to reveal to him what no mortal man can discover
tlu'ough his own efforts ; and his prayers are answered. In
three successive revelations, God shows him the inner centre
of mysterious nature and helps liim to penetrate the inner-
most heart of creatures 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 Auo'ora, which pro-
cures liim the title, the Go-man philosopher. This book,
like liis other works, ^ is written in German, the only
language with wliich Bohme was familiar, 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 Giirlitz 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, who is in God and in
nature. Aided by the Holy Spirit, you can penetrate even
into the hody of God, who 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 Bdlime find at the

* Von (Jen drei Principifn rles goltUchen Wexe.na ; Vom dreifachen Lehen
(les Mnnschen ; Von der Menschicerdung Jesii Christi ; Vom irdischen und
hhnmUsrhf'.n Myxlerinm: Von wahrer Busse : Van der Wieflerc/ehurt ; Von
der Gnadenwahl , ]\fi/stn-iiim wnginim, cto. (all in Cormaii). Editions
of Amstorduiii (1075, ins2, 17:^0) aiul Lcijisic (1S:',1 ff., 7 vols.).

■^ Aurnni, cliap. ii. 12; X. 50, und j)assi7n.

280 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

very source of tilings ? A constant duality, which he calls
o-entleness and sternness, sweetness and bitterness, good
and evil. Everything that lives contains these contraries.
Indifferent things, — things, that is, neither sweet nor bitter,
neither warm nor cold, neitlier good nor bad, — are dead.
Bohme sees this conflict, this struggle between two opposing
principles, which become reconciled in death, in all beings,
without exception, — in terrestrial beings, in angels, and in
God,i 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 witliout 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 bottondess 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 which 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 Aurora, Pref., 97; 105: Gott, in dcm Alles ist und der seJber AUes
ist; chap. i. 6 : Golt ist der Quellbrunn oder das Herz der Natur : iii. 12 :
Er ist von Nichts hergekommen, sondern ist selber AUes in Eioigkeit ;
iii. 14 : Der Vater ist Alles und alle Kraft besteht in ihm ; vii. 20 : Seine
Krnft ist Alles und allenthalben : vii. 25: Des Voters Kraft ist AUes in
und liber alien Hhnmeln ; and passiin.

THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 281

ondaiy being. First nature, then mind ; first will without
an object or self-eonsciousness (^der uiigrundlichc Wille)^
then conscious W\\\ {der fassliche Wille^).

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 theologicc. 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 which makes
the Scripture what it neither is nor claims to be : an
infallible text-book of physical science.

8 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,
which originally bounded tlie Catholic era, grows larger
and extends far beyond the beginnings of Christianity.
The Catholic Church, outside of which nothing but dark-
ness and T^arbarism seemed to prevail, Avas now regarded

1 M)ixterlnm mngnum, chap. vi. ; Von ikr Gnadenwahl, chap. i. ; Au-
rora, chaps, viii.-xi.

2 See the works of Montucla, Dclambre, Chaslos, Draper, etc.,
quoted on p. 159; IIumboMt, Cosmos, vols. T. and IT.; K. Fischer,
Introduction to the History of Modern Philosophy, vol. T., 1 ; [Peschel,
Geschickte des Zeilallers der Enidicknngen. — Tit.].

282 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES

simply as the daughter and heir of an older, richer, more
diversified 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 whom the Church excluded from her
pale, but 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 be neither salvation nor real civilization
nor religion nor morality beyond the confines of the
Church, gradually disappears. Men cease to be ex-
clusive Catholics and become m^n, humanists, and phil-
anthropists in the broadest sense of the term. Not merely
a few stray glimpses of the past, but the whole history of
Aryan Europe with its countless political, literary, philo-
logical, arclueological, 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 when he was
made acquainted with the real form of his earthly habita-
tion, of which he had hitherto seen but one of the fa^'ades.
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 hypothesis that our earth is a globe, isolated and sus-
pended in space. Wliat could be more natural than to
infer that the stars too float in space without being attached

THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 283

to anything, and that the s^jheres 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 Biiahe directs the first
attack against the traditional and popular cosmography by
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. Tins theory, which had already been advanced
by several of the ancients,^ and which Copernicus presents
merely as an liypothesis, is confirmed by the splendid labors
of Keplei;,^ 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
accex)tance 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 orhium coelestlum revolutionibus lihri VI., Nuremberg, 1543.

2 8 22.

^ Aslronomia nova, Prague, 1009, etc.; Complete Works, ed. by
Friscli, Frankfurt, 185S if. [Cf. Sigwart, Klelne Srhriflen, I. \)p 182-
220; Kucken, Britriige znr Geschichle der neuern I'liiJoso/ihii'.']

* Complete Works, o<l. Alberti, Florence, 184:i fl'. |C'f. Natorp,
Galilei ah Pfiilosopk, Philos. Momilshrfic, 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 Cojjernicus as
atheists.

But in spite of the efforts of the Church, the new the-
ories spread, tlie 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 Ixypothesis
into an axiom, the sciences had shaken off the yoke of
Scholasticism, and slowly but surely advanced. Leonardo
DA Vlnci and his fellow-countryman Fracastor continue
the labors of Arcliimedes 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 humarii fahrica (1553), lays 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, i:)reviously advanced by the Span-
iard Michel Servet,^ and the Italians Realdo Colombo ^
and Andi'eas Csesalpinus.'*

Of all the modern discoveries, the Copernican theory

^ De motu cordis et sanguinis, Frankfurt, 1(328,

2 Pulmonary circulation is taught in a passage of the Christianismi
restitutio, begun as early as 1546.

8 1494-1559 ; Vesale's successor at Padua (1544), and the author
of De re anatomica (1558).

* 111 his Qucestiones mediccc, 1598.

THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 285

proved to be the most influential. The appearance of the
Celestial Revolutions 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^ wliich 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 moditied our ideas concerning their relation to the
world. For transcendentalism, the ruling notion of the
Middle Ages, it definitively substituted the modern j^rin-
ciple of divine immanency}

This conception had as its necessary consequence the
philosopliical reform, which was inaugurated by the free-
tliinkers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and
continued, about the year IGOO, by a number of bold
innovators (Bruno in Italy, Bacon in England, Descartes
in France).

^ Hegel (p. c), who recognizes in immanency 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
great 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. h\ the battle which ensued,
Catholics and Protestants fought side by side."

Ill

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 the Doniini-

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., Gbttingen, 1888-89] ; Latin
writings ed. by A. F. Gfrorer, Stuttgart, 1834, incomplete; [also by
Fiorentino and others, 4 vols., Naples, 1880, 188G; Florence, 1889;
W. Lntoslawski, Jordani Bruni Nolani 0pp. iiiedita manu propina scrlpta,
Archiv f. Geschichte der Philos., II., .S26-.371, 394-417 ; F. Tocco, Le
opere inedite di G. B., Naples, 1891. — Tr.]. See Christian Barthol-
mess, Jordano Bruno, 2 vols., Paris, 1848-47 ; [R. Mariano, G. B., la
vita et ruomo, Rome, 1881]; H. Brunnhofer, G. B.'s Weltanschauung
und Verharigniss, Leipsic, 1882 ; [J. Frith, Life of G. B., the Nolati,
revised by M. Carriere, London, 1887 ; Sigwart, Kleine Schriften, I.,
pp. 49 ff. — Tr.]. M. Felice Tocco has published : Le opere latine 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 Ilera-
clitean, and a Democritean phase. With the head of the materialistic
school, Bruno advances the notion of an infinite number 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 liim by the
writings of Nicohis Cusanus, Raymond Lullus, Telesio,
and his profound love of nature, soon tmiied him against
the monastic life and Catholicism. He visited Geneva,
where he met with bitter cUsappointments, Paris, London,
and Germany, journeying from Wittenberg to Piague, from
Helmstaedt to Frankfort. But Protestantism proved no
more satisfactory to him than the religion of his fathers.
Upon liis 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 (IGOO). His adventurous life did not
hinder him from writing numerous treatises, the most
remarkable of which are the following : Delia causa, prin-
cipio ed uno ^ (Venice, 1584) ; Del infinito universo e del
mondi^ {id., 1584); De tripUei miiiimo et mens ur a (Fiwnli-
f ort, 1591) ; De moiiade, numero et figura {id., 1591) ; De
immenso et 4miumerahilibics s. de universo et mundis ^ {id.
1591).

Bruno was the first metaphysician of the sixteenth cen-
tury who um-eservedly 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 our world from an
extra-mundane region reserved for pure spirits, angels,
and the supreme Being. Heaven is the infinite universe.*
The fixed stars are so many suns, surrounded by 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 system of solar systems.

1 [rifrnian transl. by A. Lasson in Kircliinann's PhUnanphinrhe Bib-
liothfiL; 2(\ ed. 1889. — Tu.]

2 (■florman transl. })y L. Kuhlciibock, Berlin, 1S93. — Tr.]
8 r/^/.. 1800. — Tr.]

* D'^ bniiif'ii.to ft !rt)i7imeriihl/iljiis, ]^. 1.50.

288 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

If the universe is infinite, we must necessarily reason
as follows : There cannot be two infinities ; now the exists
ence of the world cannot be denied ; hence God and the
universe are but one and the same being. In order to
escape the charge of atheism, Bruno distinguishes between
the universe and the world: God, the infinite Being, or
the Universe, is the principle or the eternal cause of the
world : natura naturans ; the world is the totality of his
effects or phenomena : natura naturata. It would, he
tliinks, be atheism to identify God with the world, for the
world is merely the sum of individual beings, and a sum is
not a being, but a mere plu'ase. But to identify God with
the universe is not to deny him ; on the contrary, it is to
magnify liim; 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 the side of other beings, i. e., as a
finite being. Hence Bruno loved to call himself Fhilotheos,'^
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 which Bruno distinguishes by tlie
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

^ Philotheus Jordanux Brxmus Nolanus de compendiom architectura et
compkmento artis Lullii, Paris, 1582.
2 Delia causa, 72 ff.

GIORDANO BEUNO 289

all things, has neither beginning nor end ; the world (that
is, the beings which it contains and produces) has a begin-
nino- 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 ;
beino-, 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 unfolcUng
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
£ubjecting himself to any law, or entering into any rela-
tions. He is an absolute and intUvisible unity, having
nothing in common with numerical unity; he is in all
things, and all things are in liim. In him every existing
tiling 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, eveiything 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
eming eternal creation.^

* De immenso el inuvrnfrahilibux, I., 11. ' Id., A HI-, 10

I»

290 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Bruno sometimes calls the Infinite, the Universe, or God,
matter. Matter is not the (j^t) 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 fir-st 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 tlu'ough the
same stages again. Thus we have here something that is
changed into all tilings, 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, w^e 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. Tliis 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

TOMJVLA.SO CAMPANELLA 291

the sphere ; death, as the contraction of the sphere and its
return to the vital centre whence it sprang.^

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
soui'ce of modern ontological doctrines.

§ 50. Tommaso Campanella

Another Southern Italian and Dominican, ToiviiviAso
Cajvipanella,2 anticipated the English and German essays
concerning human miderstanding, i. e., modern criticism.
Tliis 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 consjjired 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 philosophy conse-
quently first discusses the formal question.^

Our knowledge springs from two sources : sensible ex-
perience and reasoning ; it is empirical or speculative.

^ De iriplici minimo, pp. 10-17.

^ Ope)-e di Tommaso Campanella ed. by A. d'Aiicoiia, Turin, ISol
{Campnnellce Philosophia sen.iibus demonstrata, Napli's, 15!iO; Philos.
rationnlis e( realis paries V., Paris, 1G38; Uniceisalis philosopJiue sire
metaphysicarum rerum juxta propria dogmata })atirs Iff., id., l(i;58;
Atheismus triumphalus. Koine, 1^31 ; De gentilismo nan retincndo, Paris,
1830, etc.) ; [Cf. Baldaciiini, Vita e JHosofn di T. C, Naples, 1840-43;
Sigwart, Kleine Schri/ten, I., pp. 125 ff. — Tn.]

' For Cainpanella's theory of knowledge, see especially the Inti-o-
duclion to his Universal f^hilosoplnj or Metapliysics.

292 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Is the knowledge acquired by sensation certain? Most
of the ancients are of the opinion that tlie 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 bvit 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-
edofe of the existence and nature of external thing's? 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 jihilosopher has no

^ Unwersalis pliilos. sive metaphys., Part I., 1, c. 3.

TOMMASO CAMPANELLA 293

thought of claiming 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,
accorcUng to Campanella, a consequence of the analogy of
beings, and tliis, in turn, is the consequence of an indemon-
strable truth : their unitary origin. Besides, he will 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 sliould have to be the absolute
as such, i. e., the Creator himself. But though absolute
knowledge is an ideal which man cannot realize, — an evi-
dent proof that this world is not his 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 fii'st condi-
tions of existence {principia, proprincipia, prwialitates
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 j)rinciple, or rather, what are
these principles? for an abstract unity is barren. In other
words: Wliat is essential to a being's existence? An-
swer: (1) That this being Z>e a 5/c to exist. (2) That tlici-e
be in natuic an Idea of wliicli this being is tlic realization
(for without knowledge nature would never })roduce any-
thing). (•') 'ilial llicn; be a tcndcncij^^ or desire for realiz-

* Univ. phil. sire me.tnphys., P. T., 2, c. 1.

2 By thus categorically affiniiiiig the will as tho principium essendi,

294 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

ingit. Power (]>osse, potcstas^ pote7itia essendi), knowledge
(cognoscere, sapicntia)^ and will {telle, amor essendi), — such
are the principles of relative being. The sum of these
principles, or rather, the su^jreme unity ^^4iich 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, world-soul, immortal souls),
the eternal or mathematical world, and the temporal or
corporeal world. All these worlds, even the corporeal
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.^

Ever}^ 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 Atlieisvius iriumphatus, and his cbeam of a universal
monarchy for the Holy Father, Campanella's attempted

Campanella differs both from the materialists and the pure idealists.
No one before Leibniz more clearly conceived the fundamental cou-
ception of concrete spiritualism.

1 Univ. phil, P. I., 2, c. 5 f£.

2 Id.. lU., 16, 1-7.

TRAXCIS BACON 295

reforms were suspected by the Church, and miscarried.
Philosophy could not hope to make any advance in Italy ;
henceforth she takes up her abode 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
Eupflish mind distrusts the traditions of Scholasticism as
well as the hasty deductions of independent metaphysics.
It prefers the slow 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 back 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, l»ut their reasonings were based on the

1 The most di.-itiiiguislied among the Italian philosophers of the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is Giovanni Battista Yico, who
died in 1741. He is noted foi' his Scienza nunva (Naples, 17'25), one
of the first attempts a^ a pjiilosophy of history. The attempt lias
Ijecn made by able modern thinkers like (Jalhipi, Rosmini, Giol)erti,
Mamiani, Ferrari, etc. (>j 71), to restore to Italy the pliilosopliical
prestige enjoyed by that country during the period of the Renaissance
(see Rajihael Mariano, La philosophie contemporaine en Italie, Paris,
1808). [On Vico see l^rofessor Flint's book in Blackwood's Phil.
Classics. — Ti!.]

296 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

observation of facts. Conversely, when they started from
an a jri'iori 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, wdiich had been expressed by Roger
Bacon as early as the tliirteenth century, is proclaimed in
the writings of his namesake FiiAXCis Bacox, Baron of
Verulam, Lord Chancellor of England (1561-162G): De
dicjnitate et augmentis scientiarum ;'^ Novum organum scien-
tiarum^ etc.^

^ Appeared in English, 1605.

2 First published nnder the title Cogitata et visa in 1612.

3 Complete Works, [ed. William Rawley, Amsterdam, 1663] ; ed.
Montague, London, 1825-34; H. G. Bohn-, London, 1846; ed. Ellis,
Spedding, and Heath, London, 1857-50, completed by J. Spedding;
The Letters and Life of Francis Bacon, including all his occasional
works, newly collected, revised, and set out in chronological order, tciih a
commentary biographical 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, 1812). See
Ch. de Remusat, Bacoji, sa vie, son temps, sa philosophic et son influence
jiisqu'a 710S jours, 2d ed., Paris, 1858 ; Kuno Fischer, Fra7icis Bacon
und seine Nachfolger. Entivickelungsgeschichte der Erfahrungsphiloso-
phie, Leipsic, 1856 ; 2d ed., completely revised, 1875 ; [Engl, trans, by
J. Oxenford, London, 1857]; Chaignet et Sedail, De I'infnence des
travaux de Bacon et de Descartes sur la marche de Vesprit humain, Bor-
deaux, 1865 ; [Th. Fowler, Bacon (English Philosophers^ Series), Lon-
don, 1881 ; J. Xichol, 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 the Avhole 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 priori
speculations. Above all, we 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 antiquit3% It seems as though the Schoolmen had lost
their sense of the real. Our knowledge is full of preju-
dices. We have our wliims, our preferences, our idols
{idola t rib us, fori, spccus, 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 poorl3% We infer that because persons have escaped
a great misfortune five times, some sujjcrnatural 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 Avith the j^hilosoplier who was shown, in
a temple, the votive tablets suspended by such as had
escaped the peril of shipwreck : " But where are tlie por-
traits of those who have perished in sj)ite of tlieir vows ? "
We assume final causes, and apply them to science, thereby
carrying into nature wliat exists only in our imagination.
Ijistead of understanding things, we dispute al)out words,
which each man interprets to suit himself. We continu-
ally confuse the objects of science with those of religion, —
a procedure wliich results in a superstitious i)hilosophy
and a lieretical theology. " Natural j)hilosophy is not yet

sor.s, Digliy and Temple, see J, FrcndentJial, Beilrdffe zur Gexchichte
derengl. Pkilos., A./, d. G. d. Ph., IV., pp. 450-477, 678-G03, V.,
pp. 1-11. — Tn.].

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 natiu-al pliilosophy than to generate or
create it."

Philosophy's only hope in this chaos of opinions and
a 'priori 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, but 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
tlie creator of tlie experimental method and of modern
science.'^ On the contrar}^. Bacon was the product of the

1 Novum organum, B. I., §§ 1, 2, 3, 14, 15, ]9, 20, 31, 38-68, 71, 77,
79, 82, 89, 9(3, 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 Bacon's ivissenscliaftUclie Principien, Berlin,
IBGO; Justus v. Liebig, Ueher F. Bacon von Verulam und die Methode
der Naturforschunfj, Munich, 1863 ; tr. into French by Tchihatchef,
Paris, 1866. Cf. the replies of Alb. Desjardins, De jure apud Fr.

FRANCIS BACON 299

scientific revival of the sixteenth century, and his mani
festo is but the conclusion, or as we might say the moral,
which English common-sense cbaws from the scientific
movement. But though lie cannot be said to have origi-
nated the experimental method, we must at least concede
to liim 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 tlie 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 the great chancellor.
Bacon is none the less the founder of experimental pJiilos-
ophii, the father of modern positivistic philosophy, in so
far as he was the fu'st to affirm, in clear and eloquent
words, that true philosophy and science have common in-
terests, and that a separate metaphysics is futile. An out-
spoken adversary of the metaphysical spirit, he expressly
begs his readers " not to suppose that we are amljitious of
founding any philosophical sect, like the ancient Greeks or
some moderns ; for neither is this our intention, nor do ive
think that peculiar distract 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 metaphysics not based on
science.

He distinguishes, moreover, between primary philosopliii
and metaphysics. I'rimary pliilosophy treats of the notions
and general propositions common to the special sciences,
viz. (accoi-ding to Bacon's strange division, "that is derived

Baconem, Paris, 1802; of Si.i,^\vart, Ein P/illo^opJi und fin Nalurfori'rher
uher Bacon {PreussiscJie .TahrhUcher, vol. XIL, August, 1H03 ; vol. XIU.,
January, 1801).

1 Novum orrjanum, I., 110.

300 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

from the three different faculties of the soul," memory,
imagination, and reason) • histury^ which includes civil Ids-
tory and natural history ; poesy ; and philoso2)hy, which
he divides into natural theology, natural philosophy, and
human philosophy. Metaphysics is the speculative part of
natural philosophy ; it deals with forms (in the scholastic
sense) and final causes, whereas the practical part of natural
philosophy, or physics propei', 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.^

Tlris method of distinguishing between science and
theology, philosophy and faith, reason and revelation, is
diametrically oj^posed to the ways 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 his 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 dignitate et augm. sc, III.

THOMAS HOBBES SOI

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
philosopliize means to think correctly; now, to tliink 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
philosophy can have no other object than composahle and
decompoHible things, or bodies.^ Pui-e spirits, angels,

* Elementa philosophica de cice, 1642 and 1647; Human Nature^ or
the Fundamental Elements of Policy, London, 1650; Leviathan sire de
materia, furma et pot estate civitatis ecclesiasticce el civilis, 1651 ; 1670 (in
Latin) ; De corpore, 1655 ; De homine, 1658. [First Latin edition of
his collected works (published by himseH), Amsterdam, 1668 ; first
English edition of his moral and political works, London, 1750J ;
CEuvres philosophiques el politiques de Th. Hobhes, 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 ; [77/e Elements of Lan\ Natural
and Political, ed., with preface and critical notes, by F. Tunnies. 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 Bricfe
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 Morleifs Universal
Library, London. On Hobbes see : F. Tonnies's four articles in Vier-
teljahresschrift f. wiss. Ph., 1879-1881 ; same author, Leibniz und H.,
Philos. Monatshefte, 1887, pp. 557-57."} ; and Th. //., Deutsche Rund-
schau, 1889, 7 ; G. C. Robertson, Hobbes {Philosophical Classics), Edin-
burgh and London, 1886; G. Lyon, La philosophic de Hobbes, Paris,
1893. — Tk.].

' De corjiore, p. 2.

• Id., p. 6 : Subjectum philosophice sive materia circa quam versatur
est corpus.

30^ MODERN PHILOSOPHY

ghosts, and God, cannot be thought. They are objects of
faith, and belong to theoh^gy, — 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 : iihilosophia naturalis (logic, on-
tology, mathematics, physics) and philoso^phia civilis
(morals and politics). Physics and moral philosophy are
both empirical sciences, having boches as tlieir 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. IMemory, the indispensable auxiliary of tliought, 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 si7n2i-
lacra reruon, or, in the terminology of the Schoolmen,
sensihle and intelligible 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

^ De corpore.

THOMAS HOBBES 303

cerebral substance.^ AVe need no further proof of this
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, which 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 o^^'n 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 sensuaKstic 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 tlie emotions: love, hatred, fear, and
hope. "A voluntary action is that wliicli proceedetli from

1 ITnman Nature, p. : The image or colour is hut an apparition unto
us of the motion, atjilalion, or alteration which the ohjert works in the
brain or spirits, or some internal substance of the head.

2 r<I., \>i>. 9 f. » Id., i'\>. 71 f.

304 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the will;" but the volition itself is not voluntary; it is
not our deed ; we are not the masters of it. Every act has
its sufticient 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
absui-dity 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 cliimeras, 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 proliibits 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 metaphj^sics, — 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

1 Treat, of Liberty and Necessity, London, 1656.

2 De cive, 6, 19 ; 12, 8 ; Leviathan, c. 17.

DESCARTES 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 priori speculation in the discoveries of the fifteenth
century. Hence Hobbes occupies a position between pui's
empiricism and Cartesian rationalism.

§ 53. Descartes

RejSTE des Caetes,^ born 1596 at La Haye in Touraine,
and educated by the Jesuits of La Fleche, spent the greater
part of liis life abroad. In German}^ he fought as a lieu-
tenant in the Imperial army ; in Holland he pubHshed liis

1 JVorks [Latin ed., Amsterdam, 1650 ff ; French, Paris, 1701] ;
French ed. by Victor Cousin, 11 vols., Paris, 1824-26; Philosophical
Works of Descartes, by Garnier, 4 vols., Paris, 1835, and by Jules
Simon in the Biblioiheque Charpentier, 1 vol. 12mo, 1842 ; Moral and
Philosophical Works of Descartes, by Amadee Prevost, Paris, 1855 ;
Unpublished Works of Descartes, by Toucher de Careil, I860; \_Un-
published Letters, by E. de Bude, Paris, 1808 ; by P. Tannery, A. f. G.
Ph., vols. lY. and v.; F^ngl. transl. of The Method, Meditations, and
Selections from the Principles, by J. Veitch, 10th ed., Edinburgh and
London, 1890; of the Meditations, by Lowndes, London, 1878 ; of
Extracts from hi^ V/ritings, by H. A. P. Torrey (Series of Modern Phi-
losophers), Xew York, 1892. — Tr.]. A. Baillet, La vie de Mr. des
Cartes, Paris, 1691 ; Francisque Bouillier, Ilistoire de la philosophie
carte'sienne, Paris, 1854, 3d ed., 1868 [a hLstory of Cartesianism];
[C. Schaarschmidt, Descartes und Spinoza, Bonn, 1850] ; J. Millet,
Histoir de Descartrs avnnt 1637 suivie de Vanalyse du Discours de la
methode et des Essais de philosophie, Paris, 1867; Bertrand de Saint-
Germain, Descartes considere comme phi/siolnrjiste et comme medecin,
Paris, 1870 ; |"J. P. IVIahaffy, Descartes (Blackwood's Philosophical
C/a.Wc.s-), Edinburgh and Philadelphia, 1881. See also: M. Ileiiize,
Die Sitlenlehre des Descartes, Leipsic, 1872; Grimm, Descartes^ Lehre
von den angehorenen Ideen, Jena,, 1873; G. Glogau, Darlegung it. Kritik
des Grundgedankens der Cartesian. Metaphysik, Zlschr. f Ph., vol. 73,
1878; A. Koch, Die Psychologic Dtscartes\ Munich, 1881; Natorp,
Descartes' Erkenntnissthmrie, Marburg, 1882; K. Twardowski, Idee
und Peripptinn hei Descartes, Viciiiia. 1892. — 'I'lt.].

306 MODERN PHILOSOi'IIY

Philosophical Essays^ comprising the Biscours de la methode
(1637), the Mcd'dationes de prima 'idiUusujihia (164:1), the
Frincipia philosophiae (1644). His adiuirer Queen Clu'istina
invited him to Sweden, where he died 1650, the same year
in wliich liis TraitS des passions de I'dine appeared at Amster-
dam. Besides the above, we must mention the foUowino'
characteristic works : Le monde ou traite de la htmiere, and
the Traite de rhomnie ou de la formation du foetus, wliich
were published after the death of the author.

In order to understand Descartes the philosopher, we
nnist 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 geometry and algebra. Indeed, liis 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 doubt 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 ont their true
iise, and although I supposed that they were of service only
in the mechanic arts, I was surprised that upon founda-
tions so solid and stable no loftier structure had been
raised."! And again: "Those long chains of reasoning,
quite simple and easy, which geometers are wont to em2)loy
in the accomplishment of their most difficult demonstra-
tions, led me to think that everything lohich 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 wliich was not so,
and if one were always careful to preserve the order neces-

^ Discours de la inelhode (Torrey's translation), Part I., § 10.

DESCARTES 807

saiy for deducing one truth from another, there "would be
none so remote at which he might not at last 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 jjrinciples from which to
proceed in his deductions, and self-observation furnished
him with such principles, from wliicli he deduced all the
rest more (jcovietrico. 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 ; l)ut 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 hook of the world ; 2 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 pliil-
osopher from Descartes tlie scientist; and French positi-
vism, too, is right in reckoning among its ancestors a man
Avho tried to make philosophy an exact science. Descartes's
failing, a failing A\hich lie shares Avith very many metaphy-
Bicians, and wliich is the result of his scholastic training,
consists in liis impatient desire to conclude and sj'stema-
tize ; which hinders liim from distinguishing sufficiently
between the method of scientific investigation and the
method of exposition.

* Discows fie In melhoih: (Torrey's (ruiislaticjii), Tart 11., § 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 Cartesianisra. 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, wliicli will form the subject of the second
part.

1. Observing that all he knows or thinks he knows he
has received througli the senses and from tradition, and
that the senses often deceive us, Descartes resolves to
doubt everytlung : to traditional science he opposes a radi-
cal doubt. But he does not doubt merely for the sake of
doubting. Ilis scepticism, though radical, is provisional,
and has for its object the creation of certain and self-
acquired knowledge. He differs both from the j^hilosophers
of the Church and the sceptics properly so-called. The
Schoolmen had said : Credo ut intclUgam ; he however says :
Duhito ut intelligam. Pyrrho, Sextus, and Montaigne had
doubted before him, but they did not succeed in mastering
their doubts ; they were tired of seeking for the truth, and
so made doubt an end in itself, a definitive and hopeless
system. For Descartes doubt is but a means which he
hastens to abandon 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
rationalistic 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 309

Hence it is certain that I exist. Cogito^ ergo sum} Though
Descartes derives the substance of his argument from St.
Augustine, he formuhites it differently ; he presents it in
such an attractive and precise form as to impress the mind
and to gain its immediate approval. To the classical for-
mula, cogito ergo sum, 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 i^etitio lyrincvpii ; for the con-
clusion 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 than its fundamental
principle ; 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
tlLCit 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 e^ddent 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 tilings. My ideas may be merely the product of
my own imagination. Heat, cold, and even disease, may be
hallucinations. We sliould have to abandon all attempts
to prove the contrary, we should forever remain confined
within the narrow circle of certitude described by the sum
quia cogito, and doubt every^thing 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 ilc la nit'thnde, IV. Cf. the se<;oii(l MalUation.
* Meditulions, III., V.

310 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Tliis 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 Avould not be possible. Shall we raise
the objection that the human ego, though achudly imper-
fect, may be fotentially 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 depend
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 suljjective 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 in-
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.i

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 (3) that the corporeal ivorld 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 pj'oved, 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,
doubt is impossible, and wliatever trace of scepticism I
may hav'e retained is superseded l)y an unshakable conii-
dence in reason.^

^ Iji reality, the ontological ai'guinent is no iiioi'C of an inference
than the cogito, ergo sum. It is an axiom, a trutli wliich the soul per-
ceives immediately and prior to all reflection.

2 Meditutinn, V., 8: " Uiit after I have recognized the existence of
a God, and because I liave 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 tliat I conceive clearly
and distinctly cannot fail to be true ... no opjiosing reason can be
brought against me which should make nie 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 joroved, —
God, the ego, and the corporeal world, — ■ may be defined as
follows : God is the infinite substance, on which everything
depends and whicli 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 tiling which needs no other thing in order to
exist, it follows that God alone is a substance in the real
sense of the term.^ 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 plu-ase : ••' to need nothing except itself ; " for,
strictly speaking, God alone is such a heing^ and no created

knowledge extends also to all the other things which 1 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 already that 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 itseK 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. 3 Jd.

DESCARTES 313

thing can exist a single moment without being sustained
and preserved by his power. Accordingly, the School is
rio-ht in saying that the term " substance " does not apply
to God and the creatures uiiivocalUj} 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 liim.

Descartes, therefore, understands by relative and finite
sitbstance a thing which needs nothing but God in order to
exist ; by mode, that which cannot exist or be conceived
without sometliing 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. Thouglit
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.

' Id., I., 9 : By the word thought I understand everything that so
takes place in us that we of ourselves ijnmediatoly perceive it ; hence,
not only to undrTstaud, to will, to imagine, but even to feel, are the
same as to think.

314 MODERN THILOSOrilY

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 viove titemselves, to set them-
selves in motion and to persist in it of themselves ; for
bocUes are extended, extended only, even in their smallest
parts, and absolutely devoid of the inner principle, the
centre of action and impulsion which we call soul or ego.
They are entirely passive ; they do not 7]iove themselves at
all, but are moved by external causes. We cannot even say
that they are heavy, if we understand by weight a tendency
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
particles of matter, to which the Creator originally imparted
rectilinear motion, are distributed in vortices {tourhillons),
forming stars, then planets, which are extinguished stars,
and filially 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 opposed 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. 2 /,/., j., 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
shoidd 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, tliis 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 with 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 between sold and hodij ahsohdely impos-
sible. " Tliose who never pliilosophize," Descartes ^ writes to
Princess Elizabeth, " and employ their senses only, do not
douljt that the soul moves the body, and that the body acts
upon tlie soul. But they regard them both as one and the
same thing, i. e., they conceive them to be united ; for to

1 Medilntion, VT. Here we notice a striking difference between
Descartes and Leibniz, between dualistic spiritualism 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 whicli it
desires to realize, without, however, being conscious of it. The char-
acteristic trait of mind as compared with bfxly is not perception but
apperception, not the tendency itself, but the consciousness of the goal
aimed at.

'^ A Madame Pjizrdieth, Princexse Palatine (Lf'tlcr XIX., Vol. TIL,
ed. GarnjiT).

316 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

conceive things as united is to conceive them as one and the
same thlruj^ 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
higlmess 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 your 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 de Vhomnie ct
dc la formation du fcetus ^ 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,

^ Amsterdam, 1650.

2 Paris, 166-1 (published by Clerselier). In Latin, Amst., 1677,
cum noils 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 hochj, and particularly
without the Irain, all these phenomena, as well as the memorij
in tvhich theij are retained, ivould 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 reseml^les the needle causing it,i 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-
pates 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.

S 54. The Cartesian School "^

The philosophy of Descartes clearly and accurately ex-
pressed the ideals of its age: the downfall of traditional

1 Traile'flu monde ou de la lumiere, chap. 1, Paris, 1664 (published
by Clerselier).

2 F. Bouillier, Ilisloire de In philosnphie carte'sleune ; Dainiron,
Hvitoire de la philosnphle du dix-xt>plleme siecle ; E. Sai.sset, Prdcursenrs
et disriplfs de Df-sraiirs, Paris, 1862 ; [G. Monclianij), Histoirr du Car-
Itsianisme en Belf/iipie, UriLsst-ls, 18S7].

318 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

authorities in matters of knowledge, and the autonomy of
reason. It met with immense success. Though accused
of neologism and atheism by the Jesuits of France and
the severe Calvinists of Holland, though attacked in the
name of empiricism by Thomas Hobbes and Pieriie
Gassendt, and in the name of scepticism by IIuet, Bishop
of Avranches,^ and Piemre Bayle,^ it gathered around
its standard men like Clerseliei;,^ de la Foik^e,*
Sylvain Ri^.Gis,^ Clauberg,*^ Arnauld,'' Nicole,^ Male-

BRANCHE, GeULINCX, BALTHAZAR BeKKER, and SPINOZA.

Even the leaders of militant Catholicism, Bossuet and
Fenelon, felt its irresistiljle influence.^

1 1G30-1721. Censura philo.'iophice carlesiancB, Vnv\s,lQQ9, etc. The
sceptical freethinker Huet differs from Bayle, and resembles Pascal
in that he teaches theological scepticism, i. e., a form of scepticism
which serves as a stepping-stone for religious faith.

2 lGi7-170G. Author of the celebrated Dictionnalre histnrique et
critique (Rotterdam, 1697 ff.), and j)recarsor of the religious criticists
of tlie eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. [SeeL. Feuerbach, Pierre
Bayle, etc., Leipsic, 1844.]

3 Died 168G. Publisher of Opera pm^lhuma De^carli^.

* Tractatus de mente humana, ejus facultatibus et fuiictionibus, Am-
sterdam, 1G69.

6 1632-1707. Conrs entier de la pJiilosophie, 3 vols., Paris, 1G90;
Amst. 1691.

® 162.5-1665. Initiatio pliUnsnphi s. did)!tatio cartesiana, 1655 ; Loc/ica
vetus, et nova: ontosophia ; de cnc/rritione Dei et nostri, Duisburg, 165G;
Opera phdonophica, Amst., 1G91. [See H. Miiller, /. Clauherg und
seine Stellung im Cartesianismus, Jena, 1891.]

T Died 1694. Works, Lausanne, 4.5 vols., 4to, 1775-1783 ; [philo-
sophical works published by J. Simon and C. Jourdain, Paris, 1893.
See F. R. Vicajee, Antoine Arnaidd, Bombay, 1881].

8 Died 1695. Philosophical works published by Jourdain, 1845.
[For the Port-Royalists Arnauld and Nicole see : PL Reuchlin,
Geschiclitc von Port-Royal, Hamburg and Gotha, 1839-44 , St. Beuve,
Port-Royal, 3d ed., Paris, 1867].

^ The former, in his Traite de la connaisance de Dieu et de soi-meme ;
the latter, in his Traite de Vexistence et des atlributs de Dieu, and his
Lettres sur la viclaplnjsique.

THE CARTESIAN SCHOOL 319

Two great problems dominate the speculations of the
new school. What is the relation between soul and
body, mind and matter? That is the ontological ques-
tion, with which the question regarding the origin of
ideas and the certainty of knowledge, or the critical
problem, is closely allied. What is the relation between
the soul and God, — between human liberty, on the one
hand, and di\-ine onmipotence, on the other ? That is
the moral question, which is closely connected with the
preceding.

In order to solve the former, reasoning and experience
must be reconciled. If we consult the facts only, sensa-
tion is evidently the body's action upon the soul, the action
of matter on mind. And evidently, voluntary movement
is the action of the mind on the body. We are acted upon
by matter, and react upon it. Hence a relation, a very
intimate relation, obtains between the two substances. But
when they compare the results of observation with the
dualistic metaphysics of the master, the Cartesians become
involved in insoluble difliculties, and are confronted by
mysteries on every side. The mind is a thinking sub-
stance and without extension ; the body, an extended and
unconscious substance. The mind is nothing but thought ;
matter, nothing but extension. Now, though we may con-
ceive that an extended substance receives an impulse from
another extended substance, and then communicates this to
a third substance, likewise extended, the aforesaid extended
substance cannot possibly be moved by something abso-
lutely inextended; nor, conversely, can an absolutely inex-
tended thing transmit any movement whatever to sucli an
extended substance. We can coiun'ive of mutual action
l)et\veen similar substances, but not l)etwecn oi)j)ositr sul)-
stances. Hence we cannot assume that a real iiiihient'e
{injluxtis physicus) is exercised l)y the ]nn\\ iqioii the soul,
or vice versa.

820 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

According to Arnold Geulincx ^ of Antwerp and Nicho-
las Malebranche,^ a member of the Oratory of Jesus, tlie
most illustrious representatives of the Cartesian school,
the " apparent " action between soul and body can be
explained only by the supernatural concourse of God.
God intervenes on occasio7i of every volition, in order to
excite in our bodies the movement which the soul cannot
communicate to it of itself, and on occasion of each cor-
poreal excitation, in order to produce the corresponding
perception in the soul. Our volitions are the occasional
causes, God the efficient cause of our movements; the
sense-objects are the occasional causes, God the efficient
cause of our perceptions.

1 1625-1669. Arnoldi Geulincx, Logica fandamenlis suis, a quihus
hactenus collapsa fuerat, reslituta, Leyden. 1662 ; Metaphysica vera et ad
mentem peripateticam, Amsterdam, 1691; Tvoodi aeavrov slve Ethica, 2d
ed., with notes, Leyden, 1675 ff. ; Plti/sica vera, 1688 ; etc. [^Philos-
ophical Works of Geulincx, ed. by J. P. N". Land, 3 vols , The Hague,
1891-93. On Geulincx see: E. Pfleiderer, Arnold Geulincx, etc.,
Tiibingen, 1882 ; same author, Leibniz wid Geulincx, ib., 1884; V. van
der Haeghen, Geidincx, jStiide sur sa vie, sa philosophie et ses ouvraxjes,
Ghent, 1886; J. P. N. Land, A. G. u. seine Philosophie, The Hague,
1895. — Tr.]

2 1638-1715. De la recherche de la ve'rite', on I'on traite de la nature,
de Vesprit de Vhomme et de Vusage qu'il'doit faire pour e'viter I'erreur dans
les sciences, Paris, 1675; 1712; [new ed., with an introduction by
F. Bouillier, Paris, 1880 ; Engl. tr. by Taylor, London, 1700, 1720] ;
Conversations meiaphysiques et chretiennes, 1077; Traite de la nature et
de la grace, Amsterdam, 1680, [Engl.tr., London, 1695]; Traite de
morale, Rotterdam, 1684; [new ed. by H. Joly, Paris, 1882]; Medita-
tions metaphysiques et chretiennes, 1684 ; Entretiens sur la metaphysiqrie et
sur la religion, 1688 ; Traite de I'amour de Dieu, 1697 ; etc. (Euvres,
Paris, 1712; (Euvres, hy Genoude, 2 vols., Paris, 1837; (Euvres de
Malebranche, published by Jules Simon, 4 vols., Paris, 1871. Blam-
pignon, £tude sur Malebranche, d\ipres des documents manuscrits, Paris,
1862 ; Leon OUe-Laprune, La philosophie de Malebranche, 2 vols.,
Paris, 1870-72 ; [Mario Novaro, Die Philosophie des Nicholas Male-
branche, Berlin, 1893; Francois Pillon, L'e'volution de Videalisme en dix-
huitieme siecle : Malebranche et ses critiques (L^Anne'e philosophique,
IV., 1894) ; Spinozisme et Malebranchisme (Id. Y., 18.Q.')- — T'r.].

THE CARTESIAN SCHOOL 321

Occasionalism concealed the boldest negations beneath
its seeming naiveness. For, in the first place, if there is
no direct influence between mind and body; if God, that
is, infinite wisdom and goodness, is the necessary and only
mediator between matter and soul, we must conclude, with
the Dutch Cartesian Balthasar Bekker,^ that sorcery,
magic, or spiritism, in every shape or form, is a detestable
and ridiculous superstition.

Nay, more. If God is the efficient author of all my per.
ceptions and movements, I am nothing but a nominal, ap-
parent, and fictitious subject, and God is the real subject of
my actions and thoughts : it is he who acts in me ; it is he
who thinks in me. The former consequence of occasional-
ism (God acts in me) was cbawn by Geulincx, the latter
(God thinks in me), by Malebranche. According to Geu-
lincx, we are not, strictly speaking, minds, but modes of
mind. Take away the mode, and God alone remains.^
According to Malebranche, God is the abode of spirits, as
space is the abode of bodies. He is to the soul what light
is to the eye. Just as tliis organ dwells in the light, so the
mind is in God, thinks in God, sees in God.^ We do not
perceive the material things themselves, but the idea-types
of the tilings, their ideal substance as it exists in God. In-
deed, how could the eye of the mind see matei'ial things ?
To see an object means to assimilate it, to make it our own,
does it not? And how can substances whicli exclude each
other by their very essence, how can niiiid and matter, ])en-
etrate each other ? TTow can the sj^iritual eye assimilate

^ 1634-1698. Dft philoi^n/ihin cnrt. (iilmniiitin ran/Iitla et sincera,
Wosel, 1608; De hetover'le iveerp.l'l {The V/orld Beicilched), 4 vols., Leu-
warden, 1690; Ainsterdain, 1001 (a work occasioned hy the appear-
ance of tlie comet in 1680).

* Meln/jfnjsicn, j). 56 : Suinus hjilur modi titcniis, si uufcras jiiodum,
remanet Deus. ('f. ]>. 1 10.

' T)e hi rpi'hrrrhe de la ri'rili', TTI., 2, 6.

•>\

322 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

what is foreign to its nature ? Mind can see nothing except
mind.

Cartesianism, though at first theistic, ultimately changed
into a kind of pantheism in the systems of Geulincx and
Malebranche, which naturally led to absolute determinism
in ethics ; for it made God the universal agent, so to speak.
This element particularly impressed the Dutch Calvinists
and the Catholics who accepted Jansen's and St. Augus-
tine's teachings on predestination and prevenient grace
(Arnauld, Nicole, Lancelot, etc.). These thinkers com-
bined extreme rationalism with the mysticism of Pascal.^

1 1623-1662. CEuvres completes, 1779; published by Bossut, 1819.
Pense'es, fragments et lettres de Blaise Pascal, published by Faugere, 2
vols., 1814 ; Pensees publ. dans leurs textes authent. avec une introduction,
des notes et des remarques, by M. E. Havet, 2d ed., 2 vols., Paris, 1866;
[Engl, transl. of Pascal's Thoufjhts by C. Kegan Paul, London, 1885;
of Provincial Letters, 1889]. V. Cousin, j^ludes sur Pascal, 5th ed.,
Paris, 1857 ; Vinet, ^Etudes sur Blaise Pascal, Paris, 1818 ; 3d ed., 1876 ;
Tissot, Pascal, reflexions sur les Pense'es, Dijon and Paris, 1869 ; [Drey-
dorff's monographs, 1870, 1875 ; E. Droz, ^tude sur le scepiicisme de
Pascal, etc., Paris, 1886. — Tr.] As a physicist and mathematician,
and especially as a writer, the author of the Pense'es and Lettres pm-
vinciales ranks with Descartes. As a philosoj)her he was at first equally
attracted by Cartesian dogmatism, which appealed to his " geometric
mind," and the new Pyrrhonism of Montaigne. Then, owing to the
influence of Port-Royal and the occiu-rence of an event which produced
in him an entire change of heart, he became an enthusiastic adherent
of Aiigustinian Christianity. Ilis Pensees form the raw material, so
to si^eak, of what he intended to be an apology of his new faith. Rea-
son revealed itself to him in all its weakness, and made him a sceptic ;
natm-e appeared to him in all her ugliness, and made him pessimistic.
It was the " heart " — we should say, the conscience — that revealed to
him the real God, the living and personal God of the Gospel. For
philosophy he henceforth had nothing but contempt. — Among the
modern writers who have made a study of Pascal, Yinet possesses the
merit of having presented him in his true light, i. e., as the forerunner
of Schopenhauer and Schleiermacher. Cousin saw in Pascal nothing
but the sceptical and maniacal element. Tliough not ignoring the
pathological element in his mysticism, we, for our part, discover three

SPINOZA 323

But the system had only to be cli vested of its theological
shell to become Spinozistic natui-alism.

§ DO. Spinoza

Baruch (Benedict) Spinoza,^ Spinosa, or Despinoza, was
born at Amsterdam, in 1632, of Portuguese Jewish parents,

truths iu his philosophy : first, reason and experience, without con-
science, cannot yield us real truth ; secondly, experience without con-
science necessarily leads to pessimism ; and finally, the will — for that
is what Pascal means by the words heart (cceur) and feeling (senllment)
— takes precedence of reason, and subjects it to its laws.

' Benedicts de Spinoza opera quce supersunt omnia, iterum edenda
curavit, prcefationes, vilam auctoris, nee nan notitias, quce ad historiain
scripluruin pertinent, addidit, H. E. G. Paulus, Jena, 1802-03. More
recent editions by A. Gfrtirer, Stuttgart, 1830 ; Riedel, R. des Cartes et
B. de Spinoza prcecipua opera philosophica, Leipsic, 1843 ; C. H. Bruder,
3 vols., Leipsic, 1843-40 ; completed hy J. van Vlooteu, Ad. B. de Sp.
opera quce supersunt omnia, supplementum contin. tractatum de Deo et
homine, etc., Amsterdam, 1862 ; [best edition by Van Vlooten and
Land, B. de Sj). opera quotquot reperta sunt, 2 vols.. The Hague, 1882-
83]. Spinoza's complete works translated into French by Saisset,
Paris, 1842; 18G1 ; 3 vols., 1872; [into German by B. Auerbach, 2d
ed., 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1872; phil. works trans, into German by Kirch-
mann and Schaarschmidt (in the Philos. B'thliothek, 2 vols.). The Chief
Works of B. de Sp., transl. into English by R. H. M. Elwes, 2 vols.,
London, 1883-84 ff. ; Ethics, transl. by White, London, 1883 ; 2d ed.,
1894; Selections, tv. by Fullerton, Xew York, 1892; new ed., 1895;
transl. of Trnctntus de intellectus emendatione, by White, Xew York,
1895. — Tr.] Biographies of Spinoza by Coler (in Dutch, 1705, in
French, 1706) and Lucas (La vie et Vesprit de Mr. Benoit de Spinosa,
1719); Arniand Saintes, JJisloire de la vie et des ouvrafjes de Spinosa,
Paris, 1842; J. van Vlooten, Baruch d'Espinoza, zyn leven en schriflcn,
Amsterdam, 1802; [2d ed., Schiedam, 1871]. [T. Camerer, Die Lehre
Spinozas, Stuttgart, 1877; F. Pollock, Spinoza, His Life and Philosoph;/,
London, 1880; J. IMartineau, A Study of Spinoza, London, 1882; also
in Tapes of Ethical Theory, Oxford, 18SG; J. Caird, Spinoza, Edin-
burgh, 18S8; R. Worms, ia morale de Spinosa, Paris, 1892; L. Brun-
schvigg, Spinoza, Paris, 1891. See also K. Fisdicr's excellent volume
on Spinoza, History of Philosophy, ]., 2. For full ri'ft'riMices see LVber-
weg-Hr-iiize and .\. van d'-r Linth', />. Sjiinoza Bibliografie,Griive\\h!ige,
1871. — Tu.]

324 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

who were, it seems, in good circumstances. In accordance
with, the wishes of his father he studied theology, ^«5ut soon
showed a decided preference for free philosophical specula-
tion. After being excommunicated by the synagogue, which
made unsuccessful attempts to bring him back to the faitli
of his fatliers, he repaired to Rhynsburg, then to Voorburg,
and finally to The Hague, where he died, a poor and per-
secuted man, in 1677. His love of independence led
him to decline the Heidelberg professorship of philosophy
offered him by Karl Ludwig, the Elector Palatine. He
wrote his principal works at The Hague between the
years 1660 and 1677. In 1663 he published the treatise
entitled: Benati Descartes 'principiorum philosopJiice Pars
I. et II. more geometrico demonstrato}, and in 1670, the
anonymous work : Tradatus thcologico-poUticus, in which
he discusses and gives rationalistic solutions of such prob-
lems as inspiration, prophecy, miracles, and free inves-
tigation. His chief work, Eihica more geometrico demon-
strata, and several other less important treatises, were
issued after his death under the care of his friend
Ludwig Meyer.i His Tradatus de Deo, homine, cjusque
felicitate was unknown to the philosophical public until
1852.2

Spinozism, as set forth in the Dthics, is the logical con-
sequence of the Cartesian definition of substance,^ and the
consistent application of the method of the French philoso-

1 [Ludwig Stein has shown (Neue Atifschlusae uher den litterarischen
NacJilass und die Heramgabe der Opera posilmma Sp.'s, Arch. f. G. d.
Ph., T, 18SS) that the Opera posthuma were published by the physician
G. H. SchuUer and not by Meyer. Meyer most likely wrote the pref-
ace. — Tr.]

2 Published by Ed. Bohmer, Halle, 1852 ; [by Van Ylooten, Am-
sterdam, 1862 ; by Schaarschmidt, id., 1869. German translation ; by
Schaarschmidt (vol. 18, Phil. Bihliothek), 1869; by Sigwart, 2d ed.,
Tubingen, 1881. — Tu.].

* PrincipJes, I., .51.

SPINOZA 325

pher.^ Our author is not content with developing his
doctrines by pure deductive reasoning, but also presents
them )iwre yeometrico. From a certain number of deluiitions
he deduces a system whose parts are logically connected
with each other. This method of exposition is not an
arbitrary form or a provisional fiamework : it is of a piece
with the system, and, one might say, constitutes its perma-
nent skeleton. When Spinoza treats of the world, of man
and his passions, as Euclid in his Elements treats of lines,
planes, and angles, it is because, in principle and in fact,
he sets as great a value upon these objects of philosophy as
the geometer upon his.'-^ Just as the conclusions of geom-
etry inevitably follow from their axioms, so the moral and
physical facts which the philosopher considers follow with
absolute necessity from the nature of things, expressed by
their definitions ; and he no more inquires into their final
causes than the geometer asks to what end the tliree angles
of a given triangle are equal to two right angles. It is not
his method that leads him to mathematical determinism ;
on the contrary, he employs it because, from the very out-
set, he views the world from the geometrical, i. e., deter-
ministic standpoint. He agrees with Descartes, Plato,
and Pythagoras that philosophy is the generalization of
mathematics.

I. Defestitions

The fundamental notions of Spinoza's system are sub-
stance, attribute, and mode. " By substance,''^ he says, " I

^ We do not at all wish to be understood as denying the influence
which the Jewish theology of the Middle Ages exercised on Spinoza's
intellectual development. This influence is apparent, and it would be
ridiculous to call it in (|iies1i()ii. It was owing to it that Spinoza found
what he did find in Descartes; he was already a pantheist when lie
took up the study of the French piiilosopher. SI ill, we nuist main-
tain tliat his leading thought, and particularly his method, aii; llio
logical outcome of Die Cartesian system.

^ Trachihm politiciis, c. 1, § 4; J-Jl/u'rs, III., Preface.

326 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

understand that which exists in itself, and is conceived by
itself, i. e., that which does not need the conception of any
other tiling in order to be conceived."^ "By attrihutc I
understand that wliich the intellect perceives as constitut-
ing the essence of the substance." ^ " By ?nocle I under-
stand the modifications of the substance, i. e., that which
exists in and is conceived by something other than itself." ^

II. Deductions

1. Theory of Substance

From the definition of substance it follows: (1) that
substance is its own cause ; ^ otherwise it would be pro-
duced by sometlnng other than itself, in which case it
would not be a substance ; (2) that it is infinite ^ (if it were
finite, it would be limited by other substances, and conse-
quently depend on them); (3) that it is the only sub-
stance ; ^ for if there were two substances, they would limit
each other and cease to be independent, i. e., they would
cease to be substances. Hence there can be only one sub-
stance, which depends on nothing, and on which everything
depends.'' At this point Spinoza deviates from the Car-
tesian philosophy; but he deviates from it because the
system itself invites him to do so. Descartes himself had

^ Ethics, I., Def. 3: Per suhMantiam hitelllgo id quod in se est et per
se concipitur : hoc est id, cujus conceptus non indiget conceptu alterius rei,
a quo formari deheat.

2 Eth., I., Def. 4 : Per attrihutum intelligo id quod intellectus de sub-
stantia percipit, tanquam ejusdem essentiam constituens.

' Elh., I., Def. 5 : Per modum intelligo substantice affectiones sive id
quod in alio est, per quod concipntur.

4 Eth., I., Prop. 7. 5 7f/.^ i^ Pi-op. 8. « Id., I., Props. 11 f.

' Monotheism here becomes monism. According to monotheism,
God is the only God but not the only being ; according to monism or
pantheism, he is the only being and the only substance ; he is the only
existing being {Eth., I., Prop, li ; Letter XLI.).

SPINOZA 327

intimated by his definition of substance that in reality
God alone is substance, and that the word substance when
applied to creatures has not the same meaning as when
applied to the infinite Being.i But instead of removing
the ambiguity, he continued to call finite things substances ;
and in order to distinguish them from God, created sub-
stances, as though liis definition could make a created,
relative, and finite substance anything but a substance that
is not a substance. Hence we must refrain from applying
the term "substance" to tilings which do not exist by
themselves ; the term must be reserved for the being-
which exists in itself and is conceived by itself, i. e., for
God. God alone is substance, and substance is God.

Substance being the only being, and not dependent on
anything, is absolutely free in the sense that it is deter-
mined solely by itself. Its liberty is synonymous with
necessity, but not with constraint? To act necessarily
means to determine one's self; to act under constraint
means to be determined, in spite of one's self, by an exter-
nal cause. That God should act, and act as he does, is as
necessary as it is that the circle should have equal radii.
Because a circle is a circle, its radii are equal ; because
substance is substance, it has modes , but it is free because
its own nature and no extraneous cause compels it to
modify itself. Absolute freedom excludes both constraint
and caprice.^

Substance is eternal and necessary; or, in the language
of the Sc])<)ol, its essence implies existence. It cannot l)e
an individual or a ])erson, like tlie God of religions; for, in
that case, it would be a determined being, and all deter-
mination is relative negation.* It is the common source of
all personal existences, without being limited by any of
them. It lias neither intellect nor will : ^ for botli presup-

1 Principles, I., 51. 2 pjj,^ y^ p,.o],. 17

« Id, r. rir.p. 17, Sdioliurn. * .Set- also p. 3:51, 1. 8.

* Eth., I., rr(ii>. 32 and CoroUariL-s.

328 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

pose personality. Not being intelligent, it does not act
with an end in view ; it is the efficient cause of things.
" I confess," says Spinoza, " that the view wliich subjects
all tilings to the indifferent will of God, and makes them
all depend on his caprice (Descartes, the Jesuits, and the
Scotists), comes nearer the truth than the view of those
who maintain that God acts in all things ^v'ith a view to
the good (sub ratione boni). For these latter persons —
Plato, for example — seem to set up some tiling outside of
God, which does not depend on God, but to which God, in
acting, looks as a model, or at which he aims as a goal.
This surely is only another way of subjecting God to fate,
and is a most absurd view of God, whom we have shown
to be the first and only free cause of the essence and the
existence of all things." ^

Though Spinoza calls God the cause of the universe, he
takes the word " cause " in a very different sense from its
usual meaning. His idea of cause is identical with his
notion of substance ; his conception of effect, with that of
accident, mode, modification. God, accorcUng to him, is
the cause of the universe as the apple is the cause of its
red color, as milk is the cause of whiteness, sweetness, and
liquidness, and not as the father is the cause of the child's
existence, or even as the sun is the cause of heat. The
father is the external and transient cause of his son, who
has a separate existence of his own. So, too, heat, though
connected with the sun, has an existence apart from the
star producing it : it exists alongside of and outside of the
sun. The case is not the same mth God as related to
the world ; he is not its transcendent and transient cause,
but the imriument cause ; ^ i. e., if we understand Spinoza
correctly, God is not the cause of the world in the proper
and usual sense of the term, a cause acting from without
and creating it once for all, but the permanent substratum
1 Eth., T., Prop. 33, Scholium, 2. * Id., I., Prop. 18.

SPINOZA 329

of things, the innermost substance of the universe.^ God
is neither the temporal creator of the workl, as dualism
and Chi-istiauity conceive liim, nor even its father^ as
Cabalistic and Gnostic speculation assumes ; he is the uni-
verse itself, considered sub specie ^ternitatis, the eter-
nal universe. The words God and universe designate one
and the same tiling : Nature, which is both the source of
all beings {natura naturans sive Deus) and the totality of
these beings considered as its effects {natura naturata).

In short, Spinoza is neither an acosmist nor an atheist,
but a cosmotheist or pantheist in the strict sense of the
word ; that is to say, his cosmos is God himself, and liis
God the cosmical substance.

2. Tlieonj of Attributes

Substance consists of infinite attributes, each of which
expresses in its way the essence of God.^ The human in-
tellect knows two of these : extension and thought. The
cosmic substance is an extended and thinking tiring ; ^ it
forms both the substance of all bodies, or matter, and the
substance of all minds. ^Matter and mind are not two oj)-
posite substances, as in Cartesianism ; they are two different
ways of conceiving one and the same substance, two differ-
ent names for one and the same thing. Each of the attri-
butes of the substance is relativcl// infinite. Tlie sul)stance
is absolufeli/ infinite in the sense that there is nothing be-
yond it : the attribute is only relatively infinite, that is,
after its kind.* Extension is infinite as sucli, and thought
is infinite as such ; l)ut neitlier extension nor thought is ab-
solutely infinite, for alongside of extension there is thought,

^ Hence, the Spinozistic conception of iiniii.nu'ncy implies ho\h
permanency and, if we may use the term, iulerinrilij ; tliat is to say,
the immanent God is both the inner and the permanent cause of the
universo.

2 Eth., [., T).-f. 0. 8 A/., II., Props. 1 and 2.

* III., I., iJef. 6, Explanation.

330 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY

and alongside of thought there is extension, not counting
such attributes of substance as are unknown to us. Sub-
stance as such is the sum of all existing things ; extension,
though infinite as extension, does not contain all existences
in itself, since there are, in addition to it, infinite tliought
and tlie minds constituted by it ; nor does thought embrace
the totality of beings, since there are, besides, extension
and boches.

It seems difhcult, at first sight, to reconcile the theory of
substance with the theory of attributes. According to the
former, substance is ens absolute ijideterminatum ; according
to the lattei', it has attributes and even an infinity of attri-
butes. Hence, Spinoza's God seems to be both an unquali-
fied being and an infinitely-qualified being. It has been
suggested that Spinoza, like the Neo-Platonic philosophers
and the Jewish tlieologians who do not apply attriljutes to
God, may haA^e meant by attributes, not qualities inherent
in God, the supra-rational, incomprehensible, and indefina-
ble being, but the different wa^'s according to which the
understanding conceives God, i. e., purely subjective and
human ways of thinking and speaking. An attribute would
then mean : what the human understanding att7'ibutes, as-
cribes, and, as it were, adds to God, and not what is really
and objectively (or as Spinoza would say, formally) in God ;
and substance would be conceived as an extended and
thinking thing, without really being so. Spinoza's defini-
tion of attribute {id quod intelleetus dc substantia perciint
taxqua:m cjusdem essentia m constituens) is more favorable to
this interpretation than one would suppose. In our opinion
it signifies : that which the intellect perceives of substance
as constituting the essence of it ; but it might also mean :
that which the intellect perceives of substance as tliough it
constituted its essence.^ However, if the second interpre-

1 [The difference between tlie two interpretations may be more
clearly stated as follows : Some construe tlie participle constituens as

spmozA 331

tation were the correct one, Spinoza could not have said
that the substance is an extended and thinking thing, nor,
above all, that we have an adequate idea of it. Besides, it
is wholly unnecessary to translate the passage in the sub-
jectivistic and " non-attributistic " sense, simply in order to
reconcile the seemingly contradictory theses of Spinoza. In
fact, the contradiction is purely imaginary and arises from
a misconception. The celebrated determinatio negatio est ^
does not signif}^ : determination is negation, but : limitation
is negation. By calling God ens ahsolute indetcrmiiiatum,
Spinoza does not mean to say that God is an absolutely in-
determinate being, or iion-being, or negative being, but, on
the contrary, that he has absolutely unlimited attributes, or
absolutely infinite perfections, — that he is a positive, con-
crete, most real being, the being who unites in himself all
possible attributes and possesses them without limitation.

Spinoza evidently intended to forestall the objections of
the non-attributists 2 by ascribing to God infinita attributa,
which seems to mean both infinite attributes and an infinite/
of attributes. God is therefore no longer conceived as
having separate attributes, which would make liim a 2mr'
ticular being ; he is the being who combines in himself all
possible attributes, or the totality of being Now each
divine attribute constitutes a world : extension, the mate-
agreeing -with (juod, wliile others refer it to intellcctus. According to
the Litter (formalislic) view, which is accepted by Hegel and Ed. Erd-
niann, the attri])utes are mere modes of human thinking, they are
merely in infellectu, not extra intellectum, not realities in God. Accord-
ing to the former (realistic) explanation given by K. Fischer and
others, the attributes are not merely modes or forms of thought, but
expressions of (Jod's nature. They are not merely in the human mind
but in God. God is equal to all his attributes. See Kuno Fischer's
discussion of the point in his Geschichle der neuern Philosophie, I., 2,
Book nr., chap. III., ;}._Th.]

1 Letter L.

' "Who maintain that to give attributes to God means to limit hiin.

332 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY

rial world ; thought, the spiritual world. Hence, we must
conclude from the infinite number of divine attributes that
there exists an infinite number of worlds besides the two
worlds known to us, — worlds which are neither material
nor spiritual, and have no relation to space or time, but
depend on other conditions of existence absolutely inacces-
sible to the human understanding.^ This conception opens
an immense field to the imagination, without being abso-
lutely contrary to reason. However, it must be added,
strictly speaking : injinita attrihuta are boundless attributes
rather than innumerable attributes. Had Spinoza been
decided on the question as to whether the absolute has
attributes other than extension and thought, he would evi-
dently not have employed an ambiguous expression. In
fact, his substance has extension and thought only, but it
has them in infinite degree.

Let us point out another difficulty. Spinoza holds that
God has neither intelligence nor will ; yet he attributes
thought to him, and speaks of the infinite intelligence of
God. These two assertions seem to contradict each other
flatly. But we must remember that according to Jewish
and Catholic theology (and Descartes himself), God has
not discursive understanding, which needs reasoning and
analysis in order to arrive at its ends ; they attribute to him
intuitive understanding, the t'oO? TroirjrLKO'i of Aristotle. We
must remember, above all, tliat Spinoza's God is not the
" author of nature," but nature itself. Now there is indeed
reason in nature, but it is unconscious. Tlie spider weaves
its web without the sliglitest notion of geometry ; the ani-
mal organism develops without having the faintest concep-
tion of physiology and anatomy. Natui'e thinks Avithout
thinking that it thinks ; its thought is unconscious, an
instinct, a wonderful foresight which is superior to intelli-
gence, but not intelligence proper. By distinguishing be

1 Letters LXVI. and LXVH.

SPINOZA 333

^ween cogitatio and inteUecins,'^ Spinoza foreshadows the
Leibnizian distinction between perception and apperceptio7i,
or conscious perception.

As compared with Cartesianism, Spinozistic metaphysics
has the merit of having realized that thought and extension
do not necessarily presuppose two opposite substances. Its
fruitfid notion of their consubstantiality anticipates the
concrete spiritualism of Leibniz. The assertion that one
and the same substance may be both the subject of thought
and the subject of extension is, as Leibniz aptly says, neither
materialism nor idealism in the narrow sense of these terms ;
it combines the truths contained in these extreme theories
into a higher synthesis. It is not materialism ; for Spinoza
does not hold that thought is an effect of movement, or to
use his own terminology, a " mode of extension." Each
attribute, being infinite and absolute after its hind, can be
explained by itself alone. Hence, thought cannot be ex-
plained by matter and movement (by this thesis he wards
off materialism) ; nor can extension and movement, i. e.,
matter, be the product of thought (by this thesis he wards
off the idealism of Malebranche). But though thought and
extension exclude each other in so far as they are attributes,
they belong to the same substance ; conceived thus, mind
and matter are the same thing (eadem res)? These " attri-
butes of substance " are not dependent on each other ; mat-
ter is not superior and anterior to mind, nor does thought
in any way excel extension ; one has as much worth as the
other, since each is, in the last analysis, the substance itself.
This identity of sul)stance, unrecognized by Descartes, ex-
plains tlie agreement l)etween the movements of the body
and the "movements" of tlie soul in man and in animals.
Since one and tlie same svdjstance and, wliat is still more
important, one and the same being manifests itself in the
physical ordei- ;ind in the intellectual order, this snl)stance,

1 Elh., I., Prop. :'.l. 2 /'/., If-, l'i"i>. 7, Scholium.

334 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

this being, manifests itself in both spheres according to the
same hiws, and the two realms are parallel : ordo idearum
idem est ac ordo rerum.^

3. Theory of Modes

The modifications of extension are motion and rest ; the
modifications of thought are intellect and will. Movement,
intellect, and will, i. e., the entire relative world (iiatura
7iaturata) are modes or modifications of substance, or, what
amounts to the same, of its attributes. These modes are
infinite, like the attributes which they modify. Movement,
intellect, and will, the physical universe and the intellectual
universe, have neither beginning nor end. Each one of the
infinite modes constitutes an infinite series of finite modes.
Movement, i. e., infinitely-modified extension, produces the
infinitude of finite modes which we call bodies ; intellect
and will, becoming infinitely diversified, produce particular
and finite minds, intellects, and wills. Bodies and minds
(ideas) are neither relative substances, which would be a
contradiction m adjecto, nor infinite modes, but changing
modes or modifications of the cosmical substance, or, what
amounts to the same, of its attributes.^

By distinguishing between infinite modes and finite
modes, Spinoza means to say that motion is eternal, while
the corporeal forms which it constitutes originate and decay,
— that intellects and wills have existed for eternities, but
that each particular intellect has a limited duration. Bodies
or limited extensions are to infinite extension, particular in-
tellects to the infinite intellect, and the particular wills to
the eternal will, what our thoughts are to our soul. Just as
these exist only for the soul, of which they are temporary
modifications, so too this soul, like the bod}-, exists only for
the substance, of which it is a momentary modification.
Compared with God, souls and bodies are no more sub-

1 Eth., II., Prop. 7. 2 i^i/e,. LXXI.

SPINOZA S35

stances than our ideas are beings apart from ourselves. In
strictly philosophical language, there is only one substan-
tive; everj'thing 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 immutable 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 ])y experience, he affirms
botli the immutability and the perpetual change of being.
In this conflict between reasoning and the evidence of facts,
wliich 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 antinoni}^, 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 tliought, the hiiinaii body a modification
of infinite extension. Since the intelU'ctual or ideal oi-dcr
and tlio real or corporeal order are parallel, every soul cor-
responds to a ])ody, and every body corrcsjjonds io an idea.
Tlie mind is Ihercfon; tlie conscious image of (lie l)o(ly i^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
ohjed of thought or of soul, and there can be no thought,
apperception, or soul, without a body. The mind does not
know itself, it is not idea mentis except in so far as it is
idea corporis or rather idea affectionivm corporis?'

Sensation is a bodily phenomenon ; it is a prerogative of
animal and human bodies, and results from the superior
organization of these bodies. PercejDtion, 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 Avell-
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 mochfi-
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 fuial 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 Etl., IL, Prop. 13.

~ Id., Prop. 23 : Mem seipsam nan cognoscit nisi quatenus corporix
ajfectiomim 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.

* Eth., II., Prop. 36 ; Piop. 40, Scholium ; Prop. 48 ; HI., Prop. 2,
Scholium.

SPINOZA 337

It is characteristic of reason to conceive adequate and
perfect ideas, that is to sa}-, such as embrace both 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 the 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 ; i-eason 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 beyond 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, whose 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
tlie 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 consubstantialit}-, — that is
the second postulate of reason. Finally, it rejects, as pro-

i a;///., n., Trop. 4:]. '•^ /'/.. n., Srli,,lium.

8 Id., II., I'n^p. :tJ. •» A/., I., rn.p. L"^.

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 we 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 higher 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 what is true. Not until it reaches this stage
can the will, which 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 we are the adequate cause

1 Eth., II., Prop. 47 and Scholium.

^ Id., II., Prop. 49, Corollary : Voluntas et intellectus unum el idem
sunt.

SPINOZA 339

(adcequata), 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 we 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 pu.re action, absolute activity.

However active man may seem in his passions, he is
really passive in the proper and primar}^ sense of the term :
i. e., limited, impotent, or the slave of things. He can be
made free and become active onl}^ 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 tliought, 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 landers 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 envy, but also

1 Eih., III., IXf. 2. 2 /,/., iii^ Prop. 59; V., Prop. 3.

« Elh , IV., Props. 20 iind 27. Cf. § 14.
* 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 liis 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 natui'c.

For the pliilosopher, who is convinced of the necessity
of human actions, nothing merits hatred, derision, con-
tempt, or pity.i 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
intellectuals Dei, or pliilosophical 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 hai>

^ Tractalu:^ poUticus, T., 4.

SPINOZA 341

piness whicli it procures for us is still far removed from
the perfect blessedness to wliicli we aspii^e.

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
eveiything 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. - Id., V., Prop. iiL', Corollary.

8 Id., \., Prop. ;iG.

342 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

body,^ is immortal in its divine i^art, 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 philosophj^ 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 id^^ v., Prop. 34, SchoHum.

LEIBNIZ 343

order. Thought is not without matter, nor matter without
thought. Spinozism points out the intimate correhition be-
tween the two elements of being, but guards against iden-
tifying them, as materialism and idealism do, from opposite
points 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
tliinking, 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 hoih the principle of thought and the principle of
corporeal existence. He proclaimed the truth which is now
accepted as a fundamental principle in physics, that the
essence of matter does not consist in extension, but in for^e,
and thereby turned the scales in favor of concrete spiritual-
ism. It is a contradiction to hold that the same thing is
both extended and inextended ; it is not a contradiction to
say that the same thing is force and thought, perception
and tendency.

§ 56. Leibniz

The life of Gottfried Wjlhelm Leibniz, like his doc-
trine, forms the counterpart of Spinoza's. The illustrious
Jew of Amsterdam was poor, neglected, and persecuted even

^ Elh., I., Prop. 13, Corollary: Ex hix .leqiiilur inillnm suhstnntia)ii ct
consequcnter nullam suhxtdutidin corpoream, quatcnus subxtanlia est, esse
divisihilem.

^ Tfl.,\l, Prop. 2.

344 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY

to his dying day, wliile 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,
diplomat, and universal savant. His remarkable success is
reflected in the motto of his theodicy : Everything is for the
lest in the best of possible worlds. 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 pliilosopliical writings are: Meditationes de
cognitione, veritate et ideis (3684); Zcttres sur la question si
I'essenee du corps consiste dans Vetendue (in the Journal des
savants, 16Q1) ; Nouveaux essais sur Ventendement humain
(in reply to Locke's Essay) ; Essais de Theodicce sur la honte
de Dieu, la lihertS de lliomine et Vorigine du mal (1710), dedi-
cated to Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia ; Za monado-
logie (1714) ; Principes de la nature et de la grdce.fondes en
Q^aison (1714) ; fuially, his Correspondence?-

^ His writings, most of which are brief, have been collected and
edited by Raspe (Amsterdam and Leipsic, 1765) ; Louis Dutens (Ge-
neva, 1768) ; J. E. Erdmann, Berlin, 1840 ; Foucher de Careil ((Euvres
de Leihniz, published for the first time after the original manuscripts,
Paris, 1859 ff.) ; Paul Janet (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 Essaya,
by A. G. Langley, London and New York, 1893]. [G. E. Guhrauer,
G. W. Freih. v. Leihniz, 2 vols., Breslau, 1842, 1846; Engl, by Mackie,
Boston, 1845 ; Ludwig Feuerbach, Darstellumj, Entwickelung und Kritik
der leibnizschen Philosophie, Ansbach, 1837 ; 2d ed., 1844]; Nourrisson,
LapMosophie de Leibniz, Paris, 1860 ; [J. T. ISIerz, Leihniz(m 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 Darstelhmg der leibnizschen
Monadenlehre, Leipsic, 1891.] For the Leibnizian doctrme 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 7nore or leas conscious
substances. It seems that he derived the expression and the
conception from Bruno's De monade and Dc triplici minimo ^
(1591).

Both the physical and mental realms contain a series
of plienomena which do not depend exclusively either on
thouo-ht or on extension. If the mind is conscious thousfht
and nothing but that, how shall Ave explain the countless
mimite perceptions (^p)^^^c(^pt^ons p)ctites') ^ whicli baffle all ana
lysis, those vague and confused feelings which cannot be
classified, in short, everything in the soul of which we 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, which forms a connecting
link between the soul and the physical world.^

and monads see Hartenstein, Commentatio de materkti apud Leibnizium
nutione, Leipsic, 1846 ; for his theodicy, J. Bonifas, Etude sur la The'o-
dice'e de Ledmiz, Paris, 1863 ; for his doctrine of pre-established har-
mony, Hugo Sommer, De doctrina quam de harm, praest. L. proposuit,
Gottingen, 186-1; etc., etc. [Cf. also: Foucher de Careil, Leibniz,
Descartes et Spinoza, Paris, 1863 ; E. Pfleiderer, Leibniz und Geulincx,
Tubingen, 1881; L. Stein, Leibniz und Spinoza, YtGi-Ww, 18!X); G. Har-
tenstein, Locke's Lehre von der merischlichen Erkenntniss in Vergleichnnfj
mil Leibniz's Krilik dnselben, Leipsic, 1.S61; Frank 1'hilly, Leibnizens
Slreit gegen Locke in Ansehung der angeborenen Ideen, Heidelberg, 1891 ;
and especially K. Fischer's History of Philosophg. — Tu.]

* [According to L. Stein (Leibniz und Spinoza), from F. Mercurius
van Ilelmont. — Tu.]

2 Nouveaux Essais, Preface. * lifonaddhigic, §11.

* Nouveaux Essais, Book IT., cli. IX. and XIX.; Principes dehi na-
ture et de la grdce, § 4.

346 MODERN THILOSOPHY

Moreover, what are attraction, repulsion, heat, and light,
if matter is inert extension, and nothing but 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 threshold 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 would
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 which 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, but 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 savoir si Vessence du corps consists dans
Vetendue (ed. Erdmann, 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.^
Tliis 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 hut 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 hodij
without movement, no substance loithout effort.^

Only the effects of force are perceptible ; in itself it is
an insensible and immaterial thing. Now force constitutes
tlie essence of matter; hence matter is in reality imma-
terial in its essence. This paradox, Avhich is also found in
Leiljniz, Bruno, and PlotiniLS, 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 tilings 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

^ Leitre sur la rjueslimi tie savoir si V essence dn corps consiste dans
Vetendue (ed. Enliiiami, p. IK?).

2 Exurncn des principes de Mnlehranche (Knlmaiiii, p. 002).

' Eclaircissement du nouueau syst^me de la communication des suh-
stances, p. i;J2.

348 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

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 things^
and becomes a pernicious 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 metaphysical points or points of substance ^ (they
are both exact, like mathematical points, and real, like
physical points*), formal p)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 vi ins'ita actionibusque creaturarum, § 8
Cf. Lettre 11. d, M. Bourguel.

2 Nouveau systeme de la nature, § 11.

LEIBNIZ 349

Whatever happens in the monad comes from it alone ;
no external cause can produce modiiications 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
anytliing ; it eternally remains what it is {priiicipiuiii clis-
tinctionis). It has no ivindotvs hj ivhich 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 world.

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
dej)art; 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. lie has broken up, shattered,
and pulverized the monolithic universe of Spinoza : how will
he l)e able to cement these infinitesimal fragments together
again, to reconstruct the ev kuI vdv?

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 ^jcrcc^>

^ Afonft'Iolog'te, § 7.

2 Nouveau syslhne de la nature, § KJ. [I have in many instances
used Duncan's translations, making sucli changes as 1 dccnied proper.
_Tk.]

350 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

tion and desire or a2y2^etition, — Schopenhauer would say,
will. 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 exist, and that which
we call extension or body is nothing but a confused per-
cej)tion, 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 impetie-
trable very well indicates; thought ([)erception) 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 tJiinJc, 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
ai-e infinitely minute, confused, and unconscious ; those of
man are clear and conscious : that is the entire difference
between soul and mind, perception and appercejytioti.

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 Blonadolof/ie, §§ 19, 66, 82.

2 Re'plique aux reflexions de Bayle, p. 186.

^ Ad Des Bosses Epist. 111. : Necesse est omnes enielechias sive
monades perceptione prcediias 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 which 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, the better it represents itself. If the Imman
soul lias 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.i

All monads represent and perceive, or, in a word, rei)ro-
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, the most perfect monads rule, the less perfect ones
o])ey. Accordingly, we must distinguish between physical
individuals, such as nature offers, and the metaphysical in-
dividuals or monads composing them. A plant or an animal
is not a monad and individual in the metaphysical sense,
but a comljination of monads, of which one rules and the
otliers obey. The central monad is \\hat is called tlie soul
of tlie plant, animal, or man; the subordinate monads
grouped around it form what we call body. " Each living

1 Replique aux reflexions de Bayle, ]>. IS I ; Munadologle, §§ 50-02 ;
Principes de la ualure el de Id fjruce, § -i.

352 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

being," as Leibniz expressly states,^ " has a ruling entel-
echy, which is the soul in the animal, hut the memoers 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 own nature compels them to do it.^ In the formation of
organisms, the lower monads group themselves around the
more perfect monads, wliich, in turn, spontaneously group
themselves around the central monad. This process might
be compared to the construction of a temple in which 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 witliout 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

1 Monadologle, § 70. ^ Lettre a M. Dangicourf, p. 746.

8 Extrait d'une lettre a M. Dangicoiirt, p. 746 ; Monadologie, § 70.

* Monadologie, § 51.

5 Ad Des Bosses Epist. XXX. : Substantia agit quantum potest, nisi
impediatur: impeditur autem etiam substantia simplex, sed naturaliter non
riisi intus a se ipsa.

LEIBNIZ 353

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,
notliing 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-
herine- 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
individual is not an isolated monad, but a central monad
surrounded by other monads, and it is the latter, or tliis
group of subordinate souls, which, strictly speaking, con-
stitute the body of the individual. Now, the monads have
no windows ; witliin 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.
Tills action is merely apparent. In sensation the soul
seems to suffer the influence of the body, and the parts of
tlie T)ody, in turn, move as thougli their movements were
determined by tlie volitions of the soul. As a matter of
fact, neither one imr 1h(; (.thor is affected by something ex-
ternal to it. No soul state, no volition, for example, can

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 i^re-estahlished harmony, 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 between
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 he has
made. Not only does God not intervene at every moment,
but he never intervenes. " Mr. Newton and his followers,"
says Leibniz,^ '' 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

1 Second eclaircissemenf du systeme de la communication des substances,
pp. 133-134.

* Lettre a Clarke, p. 746.

LEIBNIZ

365

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 bocUes, 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 curiositij 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 iniinite

^ Monadologie, § 81.

2 We say perhaps ; for tlie o1)j<'cti()n may l>e urged against Leibniz
that tlie pfTpetual miracle 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-esta])lished harmony, a miracle i-frfurnicd once for
all, at the beginning of things, is a concept i.ni plilldsopiiically inferior
to the Cartesian hypothesis.

356 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

chain of intermediate monads. Each intermediate monad
forms a different point, and, consequently, a different j^oint
of view, on the line connecting the extremes ; each, as such,
differs from all the rest. But the monads are infuiite in
number. Hence we have on tlie 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. Fiom this it follows that the distances separating
these points of view are infinitely small, that the difference
between two adjacent monads is imperceptible (discrimen
indiscernible).

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 bridges 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 transformed 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 onl}^ 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 Tht'odicee, § 348. 2 i^ff^e IV. a M. Bourguet.

' Noureaux exaah. Preface. * Erdmann's edition, p. 676.

^ The biographer of Bayle and editor of his Dictionnaire historique
et critique.

LEIBNIZ 357

few lines above he says : '' I believe that the souls of men
have pre-existed, not as reasonable souls hut as merely sensi-
tive souls, wliich 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 greater clearness. It even seems as though
Leibniz's " souls " pre-exist in the inorganic world, like so
many germs. In its state of pre-existence, he saj^s, in sub-
stance, the monad which is to become a soul is ahsolutely
7iaked,^ or without a bod}- ; 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
bodies, from the beginning of the world until they are in-
corporated.

The passage of the monads into Ixxlies (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 the law of
pi'e-establislied harmony, the development of the soul runs
parallel with that of the body, and althougli there is no real
and immediate communion Ijctween 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 the
architect of the body. A soul cannot give itself any body
whatsoever, nor can any Ijody serve as its organ.^ Each
soul has its body. But though there is no metempsychosis,
i. e., no passage of souls into bodies already foiincd, there

' Manndologiey § 24.
2 p. :}r,2.

• This expression can only he nsfd in a figurative sense by Lcil>niz
for there is no actiuil relation between body and soul.

358 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

is metainorphosis, and perpetual metamorpliosis.i The soul
changes its body only gradually and by degrees. 2 Owing
to the principle of continuity, nature never makes leaps,
but there are insensible transitions everywhere and in
everything.

Future life cannot be incorporeal. Human souls and
all other souls are never without bodies ; God alone, being
pure action, is wholly without body. Since the central
monad is " primitive " like all monads, it cannot be created
ex nihilo upon its entrance into actual life, nor annihilated
at its departure. " What Ave call generation is development
or increase ; what 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
immortality is not the result of a i3articular 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 durable, 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. « Id., §§ 73, 77.

* Nouveau aystbne de la nature, § 16.

* Ad Wagnerian, p. 467: Qui hrutis animas,aliisque mater ice partibus
omnem perceptionem et organismum negant, illi divinain majestatem non
satis agnoscunt, iniroducentes aliqidd indignum Deo et incultum, nempe
vacuum metaphysicum . . . Qui vero animas veras perceptionemque dant
hrutis, et tamen animas eorum naturaliter perire posse statuunt, etiam de-
monstrationem nobis tollunt, per quam ostenditur mentes Jiostras naturaliter
perire non posse.

LEIBNIZ 359

In the system of Leibniz we again find Spinoza's ex-
tended and thinking substance ; but here it appears as the
force of extension and perception, and is multiplied infin-
itely. We likewise meet liis 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 with 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 whiih is objectiona1)le to
the moral sense, without, however, ceasing to apply the
law of causality and the principle of sufficient reason to
botli the physical and moral realms. "• 1 am very far
removed," lie says, '"• from accepting the views of Hrad-
wardine, Wiclif, Hobbes, and Spinoza, but we must always
bear witness to tlie truth,"-' and lliis trutli is autcMiomous

1 MoHudologie, § 10. ^ /,/.^ § -jl'. « T/icudicce, !I.

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 we 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
pre-established hij God : it is not itself the absolute. The
monads, which " are the true atoms of nature and the ele-
ments of things," 1 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 word, the absolute ; but they depend on a divin-
ity, " the primitive unity or the original simple substance,
of which all monads, created or derived, are the pro-
ducts, and are born, so to speak, from 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 ; the 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 Monad ologie, § 3. '^ Id., § 47.

3 Id., § 6. * Id., § 47.

LEIBXIZ 361

motion, we cannot find the reason of motion in it, and still
less of a particular motion. And although tlie 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
sufficient reason, which has no further need of another
reason, be outside of this series of contingent tilings, 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 simj)le primitive substance must contain in itself
eminently the perfections contained in the derivative sub-
stances wliich 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 j^lan in creating the
universe, . . . and, above all, the laws of movement best
adjusted and most conformable 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 difiiculty confronting the Leibnizian theology is the
same as that which meets Descartes. The latter had to
confess that the word ''substance " when apj)lied to God has
not the same meaning as when applied to the creature, and,
consequently, that the creature is not a substance in the
true sense : a statement wliicli occasioned the system of
Spinoza. Leil^niz's theology, too, seems to be cauglit on
the horns of a dilemma : Either God is a monad, and in that

' Principes de la nature ef <le In rjr/lce, §§ 8, 9.
2 Id., §§ 10, 11. Cf. Thtodicee, III., § 315.

362 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

case finite beings are not monads in the strict sense of the
term (which overthrows the monadology) ; 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 we 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,

LEIBNIZ 363

between Lutlieranism and Catholicism. He adopts the
motto of the Schoohnen : Absolute agreement between the
dogmas of the Church and human reason. ^ He antagonizes
those who distinguish between pliilosopliical truth and re-
ligious truth, — a distinction which saved the freethinkers
of the Renaissance from anathema, — and he finds fault
wdth 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
reliirion could be true that contradicts truths otherwise
proved.^

Behind liis seeming orthodoxy, 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 being, 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 whatever
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 tlie creature is not conceivable. Owing to
this agreement, man naturally possesses faith in God and in
the immortality of tlie soul, these two central doctrines of
all religion ; and revelation simply helps to bring out the

1 Xotliiiig better characterizes the essentially scholastic tendency
of Leibniz than the followinff title of one of his last compositions : The
Principles of Nature and of Grace, Founded on Reason (1711), and this
other title ; Discourse on the Conformity of Faith with Reason (Intro-
duction to the Theodicy).

2 De vero methodo philosophioi et Iheologiie, p. 111.

364 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

truths whicli 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 any tiling 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 can have them.
Tliis means 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 pre-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 Theodicy^ like St. Thomas, subordinates
the will of God to the divine reason and its eternal laws.
This 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-
phj^sical 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 grdce, § 13. ^ Monadologie, § 46

LEIBNIZ 365

are dependent on God are arbitrary and depend on liis 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
revealed 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
thciii and chanye their nature, so that we have no reason to
suppose that he will observe them always. ... It is no
more contrary to reason and piety to say (with Spinoza)
that God acts Avithout knowledge, than to claim that his
knowledge does not find the eternal rides of goodness and of
justiee 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 hy 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 Ilamlmrg, a native of Metz (1040-1710). Against
the theory of innnte ideas of his sometime teacher Descartes, and
Locke's theory of acquired ideas, he sets up liis mystical tlicory of in-
fused ideas, that is, ideas communicated by an inspiration from on high
{CEconomie divine, 7 vols., Amsterdam, 1687 ; etc.).

2 Thtodice'e, II., 170-177.

^QQ 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
Tlieodicy 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
law s, 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 w^in-
dows," Leibniz cannot grant that our knowledge has any
other source than the soul itself. Nothing can enter it;

LEIBNIZ 367

hence, strictly speaking, tlie direct observation of external
facts or experience is impossible. Experience through the
mecUum of the senses is an illusion ; it is, in realit}', 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, oi- 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 aetualhj ; 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. Now, then, either the ex})ression,
virtual or potential existence of ideas in the mind, has no
meaning, or it is s^-nonymous with power (potent in, rii'tus'),
or mental faculty of forming ideas, a faculty wliich Locke
is perfectly willing to admit. lUit this seemingly insig-
nilieant controversy really represented (he opposition l)c-

* Essay concernrng Human Understanding, cli. I.

2 Nouveaux essais, I'rcfaco : Nous sommes inncs d nous memes pour
ainsi dire ; id., II., 1 : Nihil est in intellectu quod nonfuerit in sensu, ex-
cipe : nisi ipse intellectus.

368 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

tween the Middle Ages and modern philosophy, between the
speculative method, which 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 2Jriori reasoning relieves the philosopher of the duty
of directly observing facts. By declaring himself against
the author of the Essay concerning Human Understanding^
Leibniz, who 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 1 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 1679-1754:. 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 Sinariim philosophia, Halle,
1726; Philosophia radonnlis sive logica methodo scientijica pertracta,
Frankfort and Leipsic, 1728 ; Philosophia prima s. ontologia, id., 1730 ,
Cosmologia generalis, id., 1731; Psychologia empirica, id., 1732; Psy-
chologia rationalis, id., 1734; Theologia naturalis, 1730-37 ; Jus natures,
1740; Philosophia moralis sice ethica, Halle, 1750; Philosophia civilis
sive politica, id., 1746; Jus gentium, 1750; and a large number of
treatises in the German language. [See, on AVolff and his school,
Zeller, Die deutsche Philosophie seit Leibniz, 2d ed., Munich, 1875,
pp. 172 ff.]

LEIBNIZ 369

ics dominated the German schools until the advent of
Kantianism.^

1 The principal disciples of the Leibniz- Wolffian school are : Ludo-
vici (A usfukrlicher Entwurf einer vollsldmlifjen Hislorie der wolffischen
Pliilosophie, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1736-38) ; Billinger (1(393-1750), author
of numerous and lucid commentaries on the philosophy of Leibniz
and Woltf ; Thumniing {Inst'Uutiones ph'dosophke Wolffiance, etc.) ; Baum-
garten (1714-1762), who, in his jEsthetica (2 vols,, 1750-58), adds
the theory of the beautiful in art, or cesthetics, to the philosophical
sciences, etc. Kant himself was a disciple of Wolff before he became
his adversary, and the numerous representatives of the German Auf-
Uarung, which preceded the appearance of the Critiques, were related
to Wolff (Reimarus, Moses Mendelssohn, Lessing, Nicolai, etc.). [See
R. Sommer, GrundzUge einer Geschichte der deutschen Psycliolorjie und
JEsthelik, etc., Wiirzburg, 1892, and Dessoir's work, supra, p. 15.]

SECOND PERIOD

AGE or CRITICISM

§ 57. Jolin Locke

The author of the work criticised by Leibniz, John
Locke/ was born at Wrington in Somersetsliire. A fel-
low-countryman of Occam and tlie two Bacons, he shows
the anti-mystical and positivistic tendencies common to
English philosophy. The study of medicine revealed to
him the barrenness of scholastic learning. What, in his
opinion, perpetuated the traditions of a jjriori speculation
and the ignorance of reality, was the Platonic doctrine of
innate metaphysical, moral, and religious truths, teachings
which Ralph Cud worth ^ and Descartes himself had

1 1G32-1704. Complete works, London, 17U 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 philosophie 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 {Blackwood's
Philosophical Classics), Edinburgh, 1890; M. M. Curtis, An Outline of
Locke's Ethical Philosophy, Leipsic, 1890 ; G. v. Hertling, John Locke
und die Schide von Cambridge, Freiburg i. B., 1892; Marion, /. Locke,
Paris, 1893. See also T. H. Green's Introduction to Hume and the
works pertaining to both Locke and Leibniz, mentioned under
" Leibniz." — Tr.]

2 1617-1688. In his chief work, The True Intellectual System of
the Universe (London, 1678), he combats the materialistic conclusions

JOHN LOCKE 371

undertaken to defend. 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 iniori
speculation, meditation, and reasoning, evolve it from our
own inner consciousness, as the spider spins its web out of
itself. This hypothesis Descartes consistently carries out
when he " closes his eyes and stops his ears," and abstracts
from everytliing 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), A\hich, witli im-
portant additions by the author, \^'as translated into French
by Coste (1700). This great work marks the beginning of
a series of investigations Avhich were completed 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 Ilobbes witli tlie system of Christianized Platoiiism, whicli
also influenced men like Maleliranche, I.ei])niz, I'onnet, and Herder.
[See C. E. Lowrey, The Philosnp/ii/ of Ralph Cudworlh, New York,
1S85.]

* [Edited, collated, and annotated by A. C. Eraser, 2 vols., New
York, 1894 ; J. E. Russel, The Philono})h>/ of Lode in Extracts from
the ICs.sat/, etc. {Series of Modern Philosophers), New York, 1891.
-Th.]

372 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

philosophy to abandon what surpasses human comprehen-
sion lij clearly marking the limits of its capacity}

We have no innate knowledge : such is his revolutionary
doctrine against idealism.

As it is evident that new-born children, idiots, and even
the o-reat 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 understanding : hence, if
any one asserts that a thing is in the understanding, and
that it is not understood l)y the understanding, and that it
is in the mind without being perceived by the mind, it
amounts to saying that a thing is and is not in the under-
standing.

The knowledge of soine ideas, it is true, is very early
in the mind. But if we will observe, we shall find that
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

1 Essay, Book I., ch. I., 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 I., ch. IL, 5, 15. * Id., 15.

JOHN LOCKE 873

were innate, " wliat need they be ]3roposed to gain assent ? "
An innate and unknown truth is a contradiction in terms.

The principles of morals are no more innate than the
rest, unless we so call the desire for liappiness and the aver-
sion to misery, which are, indeed, innate tendencies, but
which are not the expressions of some truth engraven on
the understanding.^ In this field universal consent cannot
be 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 rewards 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 Avill punish you if you do not. Finally, a pagan
philosopher Avould 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 own ojnnion of our otvii
actions,^ and if cons(;ience 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, wliat
others avoid for the same reason. Do not the savages prac-
tise enormities without the sliglitest remorse ? Tlie break-
ing of a moral rule is undoubtedly no argument that it is
unknown. But it is impossible to conceive that a Avholc
nation of men sliould all pul)licly reject what every one of
them certainly and infallibly knew to be a moral law. No
practical rule which is auywliere transgressed bi/ general
consent can be regardiMl as innate. I'o ln'M that tlie prac-
1 c. 111,3. ■' Id.,^.

374 MODERN THILOSOrHY

tical principles are innate is to declare all moral education
impossible.

That does not mean that there are only positive laws.
There is a great deal of difference between an 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 Avhich 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 p-opositions of
xoliose knowledge they can find in themselves no original, arc
the impress of God and natitrc, and not things taught them
hg 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,
warmth, 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 wdio 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 anthro-
pomorphism to the deism of the philosophers. And even if

1 c. III., 23.

JOHN LOCKE 375

it were universal 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 who has not also
the idea of fire.^

The soul is originally an emjyty tallet. Experience is the
source of all our ideas, the foundation of all our knowledge,
that is, the observations which we make about 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 wliich 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 messenger. If \ve 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 sonsil)le ideas.^ Follow 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 ])e furnislied with ideas, it comes to be
more and more awake, and tliink-s more, the more it has
matter to think on.

Locke answers the question. When do we l)egin to think?

1 c. III.. 'J. MJ. ill ('liap. I., 5.

376 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

as follows : As soon as sensation furnishes us with the ma-
terials. We do not think before we have sensations. Nihil
est in intellectu quod non antea 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 necessar^j for the soul always to think than it
is for the body ahvays to move?- 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
complex. 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 males the latter. When it has once received
the simple ideas it has the power to repeat, compare, and
unite them, even to an almost infinite variety, and so can
make new complex ideas. But it is not in the power of
1 B. II., chap. I., 10. 2 1,1^ 19. 3 la., 25.

JOHN LOCKE 377

the most fruitful mind to form a single new simple idea,
not taken in by the wa}^ of sensation and reflection. The
dominion of man, in tliis little ^yorld 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 particle of new matter^ or
destroying one atom of what is already in heing.^

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 through one
sense (colors, sounds, tastes, smells, etc.), there is none
which we receive more constantly than the idea of solidity
or impenetrabilit3^ We receive this idea fi-om touch. This,
of all simple ideas, is the idea most intimately connected
with and essential to bod}-. 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 we 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 sucli as experi-
ence teaches us ; but if, l)e3'ond that, we endeavor to make
them clearer in the mind, we sliall succeed no Ix'tter.

The ideas which come to tlie mind by more lliaii one
sense (sight and toucli) are those of space or extension,
figure, rest, and motion. By reflection we get tlie ideas of
perception or the power of tliinking, and the ideas of vol-
ition or tlic ]K)\ver to act. Finally, the ideas of ])leasure,
» J5. II., dial.. II., -J. •■' y</., cluip. III., 1.

378 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

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
caref idly 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 which are in our minds are no more
the likeness of something existing loitlwut 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 oiu- mind he
calls the quality 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. II., chap. VIII., 1 ff. Here we have the fundamental princi-
ple of criticism which, as we have seen, was advanced by Aristippus,
Pyi-rho, J]^nesidemus, 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 gives its real name.

2 /(/., 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 'primary
or real qualities of body.^ Others, like colors, sounds,
tastes, etc., do not belong to the boches 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 secondary qualities : qualities, in order to
comply with the common way of speaking, wliich con-
siders white, red, and sweet as something inherent in the
bodies ; secondary, in order to distinguisli 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 ils 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 Ave 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 vanisli and
cease to exist. In the opposite hypothesis, the result will
be the same. Suppose man were endowed witli senses suf-
ficiently fine to discern the small particles of bodies and tlie
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 ex:nn])le,
seems quite red to us, but l)y means of this instrument,
which discovei's tf) us its sm;illest particles, we see nothing
but a very small nnniher of red globules; and we do not
know how these led globules would appear if we could
1 15. II., cl.ai). VIII., t).

380 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

find glasses with a magnifjdng power that is a thousand or
ten thousand times greater.

The formation of ideas presupposes the following facul-
ties in the understanding : (1) perception, 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 which 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) comjjosition, whereby the
mind joins together several simple ideas which it has re-
ceived from sensation and reflection, and cpmbines 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 abstrac-
tion. 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 becomer
more and more active in the following steps ; comparison,
the composition of complex ideas, and abstraction, are the
three great acts of the 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. IL, chaps. IX., ff.

JOHN LOCKE 381

is acquired by sight and toucli ; 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 be olijected that the ideas of infinit}^ eternity, and
immensity cannot have the same source as the others, since
the objects whicli surround us have no affinity nor any pro-
portion with an infinite extension or duration, Locke an-
swers tliat these 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 space 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 power which the mind has to
command the presence or the absence of any particular
idea, or to prefer the motion of any i)art of tlie l)0(ly to its
rest, and vice versa, we acquire the idea of \\ ill. 1(7// is not
opposed to necessity/, but to restraint. Liberty is not an
attribute of the will. Will is a power or al)ility, and free-
dom another power or ability; so that to ask a man
whether his will l)e free is to ask wliether one power has
another power, one ability anotlier ability .^ To speak of a
free will is like speaking of swift sleep or scpiare virtue.

1 ii. U,, cliaps. XII. ly. 2 /(/.^ (,i,;ip. XVII., 13.

8 Jd., cluq.. XXI.

882 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

"VVe are not free to will. We are not free to will or not to
will a thing wliich is in our power, when once we give our
attention to it. The will is determined by the mind,^ 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 hypocrisy,
are composed of simple ideas of different kinds {mixed
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 {ostracism among the Greeks, ]3roscription among
the Romans), and so there are in every language particular
terms which cannot be literally translated into any other.
1 B. 11., chap. XXT., 29.

JOHN LOCKE 383

So niiicli for the complex ideas that express modes.

The complex ideas of substances (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 sun is nothing but
the aggregate of the ideas of light, heat, 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 (sahstratum)
of such qualities as are capable of producing simple
ideas in us, which qualities are commonly called accidents.
But this substance considered as amjthing 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
an}- one should be asked wherein color or weight inheres,
" he would liave nothing to say, but the solid extended parts ;
and if lie were demanded what is it that solidity and exten-
sion adhere in, he wouhl not be in a much better case than
the Indian before mentioned, who, saying that the world
was supported by a great elepliant, was asked what the ele-
phant rested on ; to which liis answer was, — a great tor-
toise ; but being again pressed i^ 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 meta[)hy8ics attempts to proceed beyond them it
is confronted with insurmountable diiliculties.

The third chiss of comjih-x ideas express relation. The
most comprehensive relation wherein all things are con-
1 15. II., .hai.. XXIII., 2.

884 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

cerned is the relation of cause and effect. We get tlie 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 thoroughly 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 language.

All things 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 ?
Our 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 only
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
ma7i. 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 which is peculiar to each, and retain
only what is connnon 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
tiling to have a particular name. It is beyond the power

JOHN LOCKE 385

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 species under general names.

General notions {universalia) are nothing but abstract and
partial ideas of more comjilex ones, taken from particular
existences. They are simple products of our 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 siJccies 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 tliis fact of experience
that all things that exist, besides their author, are liable to
change ; thus, that which 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., cliap. III., 11.
2J

386 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

doubtful is the significatiou 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 liound
as distinct species as a spaniel and an elephant ? Any one
who carefully observes the individuals ranked under one
and the same general name can hardly douljt 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 modein theory of
the transmutation of species is nothing but an application
of Locke's teaching that sj)ecies 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 this
is exactly what Spinoza teaches. lie 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 Id., chap. VI., 27.

■ Id., chap. VI., 38 ; chap. X., 20.

JOHN LOCKE 887

consists m taking words for things} The disciples of the
Peripatetic philosophy are persuaded that the ten categories
of Aristotle, substantial forms., vegetative souls, ahhorrcncc 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 repugnanc}', 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,
altliough our knowledge may be carried much further than
it has liitherto 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. Tims, we have the ideas of matter and tliinking,
but possibly shall never be able to know whether any mere ma-
terial thing thinks or no ; it being impossible for us to discover
ivhether 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-
ino- exactly wliat 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 him fixedly for or (t gainst the souVs
materiality. Just as wc an; absolutely ignorant whether
there is any opposition oi- coiimMtioii between extension and
thouglit, matter and perception, so too it is impossible for

1 B. HI., chap. X., 11. 2 Id. • H. IV., chap. III., 0.

38S MODERN PHILOSOPHY

lis to know anything 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.

Thouo-h our knowledsre does not reach further than our
ideas and the perception of their agreement or disagree-
ment, and though ive have no knowledge of what the things
they represent arc 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 knowledge 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 operating 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. IV., chap. IV.. a

JOHN LOCKE 389

He that sees a foe may, if he doubt whether it be anything
more than a bare fancy, feel it too, and be convinced by
putting his liand in it, which certainl}- could never be put
into such exquisite pain by a bare idea or phantom.^

Let us sum up. There are no innate ideas ; no innate
truths, maxims, or principles ; no other sources of knowl-
edge but sensation for external tilings, and reflection for
what takes place witliin us. Consequently, it is impos-
sible to know anything outside of what experience, be it
external or internal, furnishes us. Pliilosophy 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 the
objects themselves. Finally, the reality of species is abso-
lutely denied.

These doctrines are the culmination of tlu- noiuiualistic
movement which was inaugurated l)y Roscclliuus and re-
newed by Occam; they likewise form the beginning of
modern scientific philosophy. As the preceding jjara-
graphs show, the teachings of Descartes and Bacon greatly
resemble each other in many res})eets, particularly in the
matter of final causes. A no less noteworthy fact, one that
may serve as an argument against the scepticisTu which ])ases
itself solely on the constant disagrccniciit aiiKHig philoso-
» H. IV.,cli:ip. XI., 7.

890 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

phers, is tlie harmony existing between Locke and Spinoza,
that is to say, between empiricism and rationalism. Locke
agrees with his contemjjorary at Amsterdam not onl}^ in his
repudiation of species, but in his denial of the liberty of
indifference, and in his view that ethics is as susceptible of
demonstration as mathematics.

The name of the most illustrious scientist of the seven-
teenth centiu-y is connected with Locke's empiricism sup-
plemented by mathematical speculation. I mean Isa^vg
Newton (16-42-1727), the founder of celestial mechanics,
whose 3Iathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy ^ is,
next to the Celestial Revolutions of Copernicus, the grandest
monument of modern science. His calculus of fluxions,
wliich 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 cUstances, have exercised an incalculable
influence upon what he calls natural philosophy.

Locke's philosoph}', with its principles of observation and
analysis, also formed the nucleus of a distinguished school
of English moralists. We might mention the names of:
Shaftesbuky,2 Clarke,^ Hutcheson,* Ferguson,^

^ Natnralis pMIosophice principia niafhcmatica, London, 1687.

2 1671-1713. [Characteristics of Me7i, Manners, Opinions, and Times,
1711 ; ed. by W. Hatch, 3 vols., London, 1869. See Steplien, Essays on
Freethinking and Plainspeaking ; G. v. Gizycki, Die Philosophie Shnfles-
bury's, Leipsic and Heidelberg, 1876; Th. Fowler, Shaflesbury and
HulcJieson, London. 1882; Ernest Albee, The Relation of Shaftesbury
and Hulcheson to Utilitarianism (Phil. Rev., Y., 1). — Tr.]

8 1675-1729. Works, 4 folio vols., London, 1738-1742.

* 1694-1747. [Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and
Virtue, London, 172.5 ff. ; Philosnphice moralis institutio, Glasgow, 1745 ; A
System of Moral Philosophy, id.. 1755. See Fowder and Albee. — Tr.]

6 1724-1816. \ Institution of Moral Philosophy, London, 1769 ; tr
into German by Garve, Leipsic, 1772. — Tr.]

BERKELEY 391

Ad^oi S:mith,^ and many others.^ The freethinkers,^ who
flourished in Great Britain and on the Continent at the end
of tliis 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 rith in think-
ers of the highest order, has never had but a single school
of philosoph}-, or, rather, that 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 pliilosopher offering the hand of
friendship to Leibniz and Malebranche, the champions of
intellectualism and innate ideas across the sea. Although

^ 1723-1790. [Theory of Moral Sentiments, London, 1759. Cf.
Farrer, Adam Smith (^English Philosophers Series), London, 1880. — Tu.]
Works, 5 vols., Edinburgh, 1812.

2 [Cumberland, De leyihus naturce, London, 1072; Kiigl.tr. by Jean
Maxwell, i(].. 1727. Cf. Ernest All)ee, The; Ethical System of Richard
Cumberland {Phil. Review, 1895). Joseph Butler, Sermons u])on Hu)nan
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 (f Moral and Political
Philosophy, London, 1785. J. Bi'uiliaux. Princij)lis (f Morals and Let/is-
lation, 1789. See Gizycki, Die Ethik Hume's, IJivslau, 1878; ISIaekiii-
tosh, On the Progress of Ethical PhUosophy chiijly during the XVII. and
XVIII. Centuries, Gil. hy \\ . Whewell, -llh ed., Edinburgh, 1872. — Th.]

' [John Toland, Chri^titiuity not Mysterious. London, 1096. \. Col-
lins, A Discourse of Freelhinking, London. 171.3. I\r. Tiiidal, Christian-
ity as Old as the Creation, J^ondoii, 17-)0. 'I'hoiiiiis Chubb, A Discourse
concerning Reason with Regard to Rdiginn. Lomli^ii, 17.%. 'I\ Morgan,
The Moral Philosopher, London, 17-)7 IT. I.onl Uoliii^^broke, Works
ed. by D. Mollet, 5 voIh., 1753-51. (T. on lli.' ihisis. V. Lechler, Ge-
schichte des euglhichen Deismus, Stuttgart, iSll ; limit, History of Re-
ligious Thought in England, I..(>ndon, 1871-73; and i^esiie Stejihen'u
work citcfl \i. 12, iiotr 11. — Tit. J

392 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Locke and liis opponents differ on several essential points,
they reach practically the same conclusions concerning tlie
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 otlier 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 concejotions and apprehen-
sions as that of spiritual substance or spirit ! ^ Hence, all
that was needed to arrive at the negation of matter or abso-
lute spiritualism was to efface the distinction which he had
cbawn between primary and secondary qualities, and to call
all sensible qualities, without exception, secondary.

This is done by GeoPvGE Berkeley, 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
toioards a New Theory of Vision,'^ Treatise on the Principles
of Human Knowledge,^ Three Dialogues between Hylas and
Philonous,'^ Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher .^

1 Essay concerning Human Understanding, II., ch. XXIII., 5.

2 Dublin, 170.9. This remarkable treatise clearly anticipates the
modern principles of the physiology of sensation.

3 Dublin, 1710. [Krauth's ed., 187L]

4 London, 1713. [Calcutta, 1893.] French, Amsterdam, 1750;
German, Rostock, 1756.

6 London, 1732 ; French, The Hague, 1734 ; German, Lenigo, 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 and 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 "\^■here 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 ohjects 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 witli-
out us. Now, says Berkeley,^ either tliose exteinal objects
or originals of our ideas are perceivable, or tliey are not
perceivable. If they are, then they are ideas (for an idea
= something perceived). In that case, there is no dilTei-
ence between objects assumed to be without us and our
ideas of them ; and " we liave 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 invisibh' ; liard
or soft, like something which is intangible ; and so of the

I^lete. ISeleclions J'rom Berkeley, with introduclioii and notes, l»y A.
Campbell Fraser, ith ed. (revised), 1891. Cf. T. C. Simon, Uniccrsal
hnmaterialism, London, 18fj'2; Controversy between Ueberweg and
Simon, in Fichte's Z.f. Ph., vol. 55, 1860; vol. 57, 1870; vol. 59, 1871 ;
A. C. Fraser, Berkeley (Philosophical Cltissic.t), IMinburgli and Lon-
don, 1881. — Tk.]

1 Principles of Ifuwuu Knoirledije, § 8.

394 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

rest." Hence, there is no real difference between things
and our ideas of them. The words seMsiUe 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 sim})le, undivided, active being, — as it per-
ceives ideas, it is called the understanding^ 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 triangle, 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 arc the tilings 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. " Wlien in Ijroad 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 likewise insists on the
necessity of clearly distinguishing between spirit and idea, thus con-
tradicting Spinoza, who regards them as synonyms {id., § 139).

BEKKELEY 395

produces tliem, a more powerful spirit that imprints them
upon us. "' Now the set rules or established methods
wherein the ]Mind we depend on excites in us the ideas of
sense, are called the laws of nature ; 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 properly 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 sensil)le world, with
its sun, stars, mountains, and livers, a chimera or an illu-
sion, Berkeley answers that he does not in the least doubt
the existence of things. He is even Avilling to accept the
term corporeal substance 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 substratum, or support of acci-
dents or qualities without the mind perceiving them, as a
stupid, thoughtless somcv:hat, which can neither perceive nor
be perceived, existing alongside of, and independent of, llie
thinking substance.^ The objection that, according to his
principles, we eat and drink ideas, and are clothed with
ideas, is not more serious tlian tlie preceding one. It over-
looks the fact that he em])loys tlie word idea, not in its
usual signification, Ijut in the sense of perceived thing. But
it is certain that our victuals and our ai)parel are things
which we perceive immediatel}^ by our senses, that is, ideas.
Finally, it is held that, according to his teaching, the sun,
moon, and trees exist f)idy w])en tliey are perceived, and
are anniliilated when we no longer perceive tlitiii. They
woulil iiiidoul)1i-dl V (•(■ase to exist if theic were no one to

1 J'rinrijiiis tif lluindn Knowlulijf, § 75.

396 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

perceive them ; for existence consists in being perceived or
in perceiving. But if our mind cannot perceive tliem, an-
other spirit can perceive them or continue their existence,
so to spealv ; for tliough 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 iLot 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,
Avhich excites those ideas in our minds, is not marked out
and limited to our view 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 absolutely, 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.2 It overcomes the dualism of sub-
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 iiiidecided, conciliatory, and
even obscure. Berkeley shows no sign of hesitation. An
earnest and profoundly lionest tliinker, he tolls 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 willi-
out the mind;* tliat minds alone exist; and tli;tt these

1 Kant's conclusions fully confirni these profound remarl^s of
Berkeley (PrincipU-s, §§ 8') fF.). It was because the Cr!li(jufi of Pure
Reason asserted the dogma comhated hy the Irish idiilosojiher (the
;//in(7-?n-j<,<i?{/' considered as existing indiqiendently of the phenomenon)
that it became involved in sci'pticism.

* Cf. our conclurtionH in § 71.

' Pnnciplex, §98. ■* /'A. § 118.

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 repeat 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 that
unperceiving and unperceived things do not exist, what
becomes of the soul in deep sleep ? If the 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 Spirit produce
sensible ideas in us ? All these points and many others re-
main unexplained ; for his deus ex machina 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 2
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 existi5, 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 cf Berkeley was taught
by his contemporary and colleague, the churchman Arthur Collier
(1680-1732), a disciple of Malebrauche and author oi Claris universalis,
or a Neio 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 XVIII'. siecle {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 abbot
Etienne Bonnot de Condillac,^ the founder of absolute
sensationalism.

Locke distinguishes two sources of ideas : sensation and
reflection, wliile Condillac, in liis Traitc des sensations rec-
ognizes but one, making reflection a product of sensibilit3\
His proof is ingenious. He imagines a statue, which is
organized and alive, like ourselves, but hindered b}' 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 olfactorj'-
organs. Now the statue has only the sense of smell, and
cannot, as yet, perceive anything but odors. It cannot
acquire any idea of extension, form, sound, or color. A

^ 1094-1778. Lettres sur les Anglais, 1728; £lemenls de la pJiiloso-
pJiie de Newton, mift a la porlee de tout le monde, Amsterdam, 1738 ; La
metaplnjsique de Nevlon ou parallele des sentiments de Neivto7i et de Leib-
niz, Amsterdam, 1740 ; Candide ou sur roptimisme, 1757 ; Le philosnphe
ignorant, 1767. Simultaneously with these writings of Voltaire, the
Entretiens sur la pluralite des mondes of Fontenelle (1657-1757), and
the works of Maupertuis (1098-1759) made known to the French the
labors of Copernicus and Newton, which were continued by Lagrange
and Laplace (page 11). [On eighteenth century philosoi^hy in France
see Damiron, ^r^moires pour servir a Vhisloire de la philosophic au X VIIL
siecle, 3 vols., Paris, 1858-64 ; and IJarlholmess (p. 1'2). On Voltaire
see the works of Bersot, Strau.ss, John Morley, Desnoiresterres, and
Mayr. — Tr.]

2 Born at Grenoble, 1715; tutor of the Prince of Parma; abbot of
Mureaux ; died 1780. Besides the Traile des sensations (1754), he jiro-
duced the followiug works : Essai sur I'origine des counaissances huintnnes
(1710); Traite' des systemes (171'.)) ; Traitc des animnux,\l'ib\ Logiipie
(posthuniou.s, 1781) ; Laugue des auimaux (imst humous). Comi)lete
works, Pari.s, 1798; 1803, 32 vols, in 12mo. F. ilethord, Condillac ou
I'empirisme et le rationalisme, Paris, 1804.

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 object ; 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, \vhat ive 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 asafoetida before
the statue. Its first sensation, the odor of the rose, was
neither agreeable nor disagreeable, there being nothing to
compare it with. 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 volitions. I will signifies / desire. The will is not a
new faculty added to sensibility ; it is a transformation ol
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 understanding. 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, tliat is, as ideas. It directs tlie attention to two
different ideas and compares them. When tliere is double
attention, there is comparison ; for to be attentive to two
ideas, and to compare them, is the same thing. Now, the
statue cannot compare two ideas without perceiving, some
difference or resemblance between them : to perceive such
relations 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 c{uality common to the odor of asa-
foetida, decaying matter, etc. These common cliaracteristics
are distinguished, separated, ahsfr acted, from the particular
sensations with wliich they are associated, and thus arise
the abstract notions of pleasure, pain, number, duration, etc.
These are general idea.<!, being common to several states or
modes of being of the statue. We do not need a special
faculty to explain them. Abstraction itself, tlie highest
function of the understanding, is a modification of sensa-
tion, which, consequently, embraces all the faculties of the
soul. The mner perception^ or tlie me., is merely the sum of
the .sensations we novj have, and those which tvr hare had.

Condillac endows his statue with a single sense, — tlie
sense of smell, — nml then evolves all mental faculties out
of sensation.^ Any one of the live senses would have
served his pui])f)se equally ANidl.

^ Condillac'fl ol)j<'ct in clioosiiig tlio least important of Uio five souses
is plain. If the sense of smell sufficos to make a <ciiii)ili(i' soul, tln'ii,
a y*or//V<r/, the coiiiliination of all five rciisl-s, or tin' IdIiI sctisihility,
will HuHicfj;. '^^

402 MODEEN 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 will become so much
richer, more manifold, and complex.

There is, however, an essential idea which neither smell,
nor taste, nor hearing, nor even sight, can yield, and that is
the idea of an ohject, the idea of an external world. Colors,
sounds, odors, and tastes are mere sensations or states, not,
as yet, referred to external objects. 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. Touch 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 siglit, distinguish l)etween a ball
and a block, a cube and a sphere, until they t(mch these
objects.^ On\j after having touched things do we refer the
impressions received by our other senses, such as colors,
sounds, tastes, and smells, to objects existing outside of us.
Hence, touch 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 touch.
Though Condillac is a sensationalist, and a sensationalist
in the strict sense of the term, he 1^ not, on that account, a
materialist.2 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.

CUNDILLAC 403

ter can think, and agrees ^vith the Cartesians that com-
ptHinds cannot think, and eonseqnently 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. ISIoreover, it is not certain
tliat the body is an extended substance, as Descartes claims.
But even if there were no real extension, that would not he a
suijicient reason for denijing the existence of bodies. Hence
the negation of extension as such does not, according to
Condillac, involve the acceptance of the innnaterialism 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 tliat case, Descartes is also a materialist.
jMoreover, 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
kiiowh'dgc except sensation; it is nothing Init a prolonged
and infinitely modified sensation. But that does not mean,
lie intimates, tliat it has aiwai/s l)een restricted to sensation
as tlie source of trnth : its ])resent nature dates from the
I-'aih Perhaps it was en<l<)wed with a higher faculty hcfore
the Fall. All we can say is that this is no longer the case.
It is hard to take th('S(! restrictions of the ahhe of iMu-
reaux seriously.

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
Ilobbes, Gassendi, and Democritus. Philosophy gradually
abandoned dualism. It might have adopted the im materi-
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, philosophy continued, in spite of Berkeley,
to concede 'primary 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. Hobbcs'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, Me'moires pour servir a Vhistoire de la philosoph'e au
dix-huitihne siecle, §§ 8 ff.
•^ Cf. pp. 310 f.

PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 405

emphatic declaration that body acts on mind, and that the
mental world depends on the physical world.

John Toland (1670-1721), 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 Pantheisticon (1710). Matter
is not, according to him, 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 Avithout; motion is its
essential and inseparable property, — as essential and in-
separable as extension and impenetrability. Since matter
as such is force, motion, and life, we do not need either a
soul of the world, in order to explain universal life, or au
individual soul as the source of i)sychical life and the A'ital
principle of the organic body. The liylozoistic and vital-
istic hypothesis is based on the erroneous conception that
matter is inert, that it is merely tlie 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

^ Letters to Serena (Serena is Queen Sophia Cli.irlotto of Prussia,
the friend of Leibniz, at whose court Toland lived from 1701-17012),
followed by a Refutation of Spinoza, and a treatise on movement as the
essential jtroiK^rty of matter (London, 1701). [('!'. (!. Herthold, J(;///i
Toland und dcr Monismus ilrr (Jcgenwdrt, I Icidcllirri,', lS7(i ]

2 Let tern to Serena, pp. 230 ft".

• Deus est res coyilans (^Elli., II., I'rop. 2).

406 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

conscious only in the brain (a view already held by Demo-
critus). There can be no thought without a brain ; thotujlit
is the function of this organ, as taste is a function of thfi
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 estal:)lished 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. The
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
not 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.

1 Paniheisticon, 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. PhUosophers), London, 1881; B. Schoenlank, Hartley und
Priestley, die Begriinder des Assoc iationisinus in England, Halle, 1882.
— Tk.i

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 moditication of this substance is
accompanied by a corresponding modification in our soul-
life. The modifications of the cerebral and nervous sul>
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 experimented 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 tliat the
latter are effects of the former conclusively proves that cor-
poreal substance is analogous, if not identical, with think-
ing substance.

Joseph Ppjestley (1733-1804), tlieologian, philosopher,
and naturalist, to whom we are indebted for tlie discovery
of oxygen,^ considers, in his Disquisitions relating to Matter
and Spirit,^ tlie proofs of liis predecessors, ancient as well

* As lia.s Ijeen done, in our ooutury, }>y the Berlin scientist, E. tlu
Bois-Kcyniond.

' Thus nain<'<l l)y Lavoisirr, wlio iccoL^ni/.cil it as one of the essen-
tial ehnnents of atmospheric air.

' London, 1777. \'l'hi: Dnrlrinr of P/iilos()/)li!r(it Nrci'ssili/. London,
1777; Free DiscunKioua of the iJavlrincs af M<iiiri<ilism, Londnn, 177^
-Tic]

408 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

as modern, in favor of the 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, tliink, 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 MATERLVLISM 409

as the human soul does? The soul is a reality no less
manifold than the universe Avliich 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 with tlie faculty
of thinking is not the gross and inert mass wliich it is at
first supposed to be ; it is the ether, that mysterious agent
which we know only by its manifestations, but which 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 su1>-
stance " (in sensation and perception) is no less ol)jection-
able to the materialistic thinker.

11. If the soul, says spiritualism, is composed of parts,
atoms (or, as we should say nowadays, of living cells of
gray cortical substance), how can it be felt as a unity?
How does it become conscious of the me ? ^ This feeling,
this perception of the unity which is called tlie ego^ is con-
ceivable only in a real individual, in a unity, monad, or
atom, and not in a sum of monads, atoms, or individuals,
not in the whole nervous system. For a sum or whole 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 whole, cannol, for the whole is
not an indivicbial, an ol)jfctive and existing icality. This,
as Priestley himself confesses,^ is the strongest, and. in fact,

1 In a word : How can the one arise from the many V

2 [I cannot find anyUiinf; in the Disf/uisllions to provi' tliis stalc-
nient. What Priestley does say is this: "This argnment has hecn
nnieh liaekncyt'<l, and much cnnfidcMl in hy mctai>hysicians ; t>ut, for
jny pari, 1 cannot iMiccivc, the least ftirce in it." (p. 118.) — Th.J

410 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the only serious argument that spiritualism can oppose.^
How can the one arise from the many? He declares that
he cannot explain the difficult}', 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 tlie unit}^ 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 the body alone be-
comes weary and never the soul ; finally, that, if the human
soul is material, God liimself 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 chfferent suljstance ; 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 Christianit}^ and even with
Calvinism. 2 French materialism, however, does not share

^ Albert Lange shares this view. In his History of Malerialmn, 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. Indeterministic and Pelagian Catholicism offers material-
ism no such support.

PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 411

these illusions. In tlie Testament de Jean Mcslicr,^ 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 Metteie ^ (1709-
1751), who was one of the first outspoken materialists in
France. Curiously^ enough, tliis leader of the opponents
of spiritualism is a disciple, not of Toland, but of the man
whom French spiritualism recognizes as its head : Des-
cartes. We must remember that Descartes was not only
the author of the Meditations and the dualistic hypothesis,
but that he wrote the Treatise 07i the Passions of the Soid,
and founded the modern mechanical theor}-. Descartes not
only proved the existence of God and the spirituality of
the soul,^ but also showed '^ how all the limhs can he moved
hy the objects of the senses and hy 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-viachine is slight; and La ]Meltrie makes it. If
the animal can feel, perceive, remember, compare, and
judge, without the aid of an innnaterial soul, simply by
means of its nervous and cerebral organization, there is no
reason why we should concede a soul to man, Avhose sensi-
bility, will, and understanding are merel}' more highly

1 A curt of Etrepigny in Champagne, died 173."). 'J'cslami'iil de
J. Meslier, pul)lisli(.'d in 3 vols., with a preface and a biographical
introduction, by K. Charles, Amsterdam, 18G5.

2 Ilistolre naturelle de Vthne, The Hague (Paris), 1745; VHomme-
macli'ine, Leyden, 171 S; L'llomme-plnnle, Paris, 1718. "Works of I>a
Mettrie, London (ik-rlin), 1751. [Cf. Lange, lUstorij of Materid/isni.']

3 Tliese "errors" are, in La Mettrie's opinion, notiiing Imt "a
trick to make the theologians swallow the poison of mechanism.
The anh'xd-jnarhine is Descartes's grandest discovery."

* Passions de I'dine, I., Art. 10.

412 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

developed animal functions. Man is not an exception ; he
does not form a separate and privileged caste in universal
nature. The laws of nature are the same for all. There
can he no difference in this respect hetween men, hrutes,
plants, and animals. Man is a machine, hut 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 which
gradually evolves more and more perfect forms from the
elementary organisms. Tlie 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,i reappears, in various forms, but wholly conscious of
its aims, in the Pensees sicr rinterprStation de la nature of
Denis Diderot,^ in the work, De la nature, of Robinet,^
in the Palingenesie philosophiqiie of Charles de Bonnet,*

1 We found it in Anaximander, Empedocles, xVnaxagoras, and
Democritus.

2 Born at Paris, 1713; died 1784. The founder of the Encydo-
pedie (Dictionnaire rahonne des arts, des sciences el des metiers. Par
nne socie'te' de gens de letlres, 7nis en ordre el public par M. Diderot, Paris,
1751-1703). His most important philosophical writings are: Pensees
sur V interpretation de la nature, Paris, 1754 ; Reoe de D'Alemberl ; Let Ire
sur les aveurjles ; iSlements de physiologic. 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, 1763-68.

* A Genevan, 1720-1793. La palingenesie philosophique ou idees sui
Vetat passe et sur I'e'tat futur des etres vivants, Geneva, 1769.

PROGRESS OF MATERL\LISM 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 luell 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 afifinity, 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 sensihility, tvhich exists potcatially in
the inert molecule, and matter, sufiices to explain tlie 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 l)een said of man.
Of what use are the phalanges in the cloven foot of the
hog? Of what use are the mamma' in males? 'I'lie act-
ual world is as a day-fly to the millions of wA (>r possil)le
worlds of the past and future; it is what the insect of

414 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Hypaiiis is to man, wlio sees it live and die in the passing
of a day. The day of a woild lasts a little longer, that
is all.

These conceptions of the world and man are shared by
Helv^tkjs,^ who, like Thomas Hobbes and Mandeville,^
considers egoism and self-interest as the true and sole mo-
tive of our acts; by the mathematician D'Alembert,^
whose pliilosophy reveals a delicate tinge of scepticism,
which distinguishes it fa^■orably from its environment, and
brings it nearer to criticism; by the political economists
TuRGOT "* and Condorcet,-^ who construct a. positive phi-
losophy of history, based on the necessity of human actions
and the laAV of continued progress; by the Baron d'HoL-
BACH,6 whose Si/steme de la nature, published at London,
1770, under the pseudonym of Mirabaud, is a comijlete the-
ory of ontological and psychological materialism. Matter
and motion : these two words sum up everything. INIatter
and motion are eternal. The universe is neither governed
l)y 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 necessity,
a Fate hovering above things, a yoke imposed upon them

1 Claude Adrien, 1715-1771. De Ve.^pnt, Paris, 1758 (anonymous) ;
De Vhonime, de ses facidles et de son education, London (Amsterdam),
1772 (anonymous) ; Les procjres de la raison dans la recherche de la
vcritd, London, 1775. Complete works, Amsterdam, 1776 ; Zwei-
briicken, 1784; Paris, 1794; 1796 (this last edition in 10 vols., 12°).

2 Bernard de iVfandeville, 1670-1738. The Fable of the Bees, or
Private Vices made Public Benefits, London, 1714, 1719.

3 1717-1783. Author of the masterly Discours preliminaire of the
Encyclopedia, which he helped to found. iMclanr/es de Ulterature, d'kis-
toire et de philosophic, 5 vols., Paris, 1752.

* Discours siir les progres de Vesprit hnmain. etc. [Complete works
by Dupont de Xemours, 4 vols., Paris, 1808-1811.]

^ Esquisse d'un tableau historique des progres de Vesprit humain (post-
humous work). 1794.

« 1723-1789.

PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 415

from without : they are merely the iiroijcrties of things, the
expression of their innermost nature. The universe is
neither an al)Solute monarchy () /(( Duns Scotus, nor a con-
stitutional monarchy it 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 theor}^ sufficiently explains all things. There is no
finality in nature. Eyes were not made/o?- seeing, nor feet
for walking, but seeing and walking are the effects of a
certain arrangement of atoms, which, if different, would
produce different phenomena. There is no soul apart from
nervous substance. Thought is a function of the brain.
iNIatter 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 phj'sician Ca-
BANIS (1757-1808), in his Considerations generates su7' I'etude
de Vhomme et sur Ics rapports de son organisation piliysiqnc
avec ses facultes intellectuellcs et morales,^ formulated the
pi-inciples 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 endoAved with feeling. The
body or matter tliiuks, feels, and wills. Pliysiology iuid
psyc^hology are one and the s;im(^ science. Man is simply a
bundle of nerves. Thought is IIk; function of the brain, as
digestion is the function of the stomach, and (he secretion
of bile tlie function of the liver. 'Ihe imjjrcssions reaching
the brain cause it to act, just as tlie food introduced into
the stomach sets that organ in motion. It is the business

1 III Hm- Me'moires (le riiistllul, years I\'. and \1. (ITiiOainl 1798):
rti-riiit^-.l, I'aiis, 180 J.

416 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

of the brain to produce an image of each particular 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 dio-est it. Intellectual and moral phenomena are, like all
others, necessary consequences of the properties of matter
and the laws which govern beings.^

On this latter point, philosophers, be they conservative or
radical, dogmatic or sceptical, jurists and litterateurs, natu-
ralists and pliysicians, 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 orounded the necessary relations which we call laws.^
Voltaire is a deist, but he assumes, with Locke, that mat-
ter can think. 3 J.J. Rousseau is a spiritualist in his way,
but 7iature, ivhich ive have ahandoned 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 r esprit des lots. I., ch. I. : Les loix, dans la signification la plus
etendue, sont les rapports necessaires qui derirent de la nature des choses ;
et, dans ce sens, tons les etres ont leurs lois : la divinite a ses his, etc.

8 See page 399, note 1.

* 1712-1778. Discours siir Forigine et les fondements de Vine'galite
parmi les Jwmmes, Paris, 1753 ; Le contrat social, 1762 ; ^mile ou de
V education, 11 ^>2. [ffiwrre.?, Paris, 1764 ; 1818-20; 1868. L. Moreau,
J. J. Rousseau et le siecle phUosophique, Paris, 1870; John Morley,
Rousseau, 2 vols., London, 1873.— Tr.]

DAVID 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 ^

"There are no bodies," the idealists dogmaticallj^ 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, 3 vols., London, 1739-174:0; ed. by
Selby-Bigge, Clarendon Press, 1888. Hnme afterwards 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 Princinles
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 appeared after Hume's death.
These, together with the Treatise, are published, witli 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 Ininwrtalify tf the Soul appeared
1783. Selections from the Treatise (H. L), by IL A. Aiken, in Series
of Modern Philosophers, New York, 1893; from Hume's ethical writ-
ings, by J. H. Hyslop, in tlie Ethical Series, Boston, 1893. Works on
Hume: F. Jodl, Leben und Philostq/hie Darid fhnne's, Halle, 1872; K.
PHeiderer, Empirismus und Skepsis in D. II.'s Phil., Berlin, 1871;
Mciiiong, Hume-Siudieu, 2 vols., Vienna, 1877, 18S2; G. v. Gizycki, Die
Ethik D. II.'s, Hreshiu, 1878; T. Huxley, Hume, London, 1879 ; \\ .
Knight, Hume (Philosophical Cla.i.tics), London, 1880; Introduction to
od. of Hume's works by T. H. Green. — Tr ]

•27

418 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

cal historian of England,^ opposes to eacli 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 metaphysi-
cal jargon^ which, being mixed up with popular superstition,
renders it in a manner impenetrable to careless reasoners, and
gives it the air of science and loisdom,'''^ 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; a7id must cultivate true metapihysics 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 WiUiam Sfrahan. Now first edited by G. Birkbeck Hill,
Oxford, 1888). Oiu- 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 UnderMinding, sect. I. [Green's
edition of Hume].

DAVID HUME 4l9

the different operations of the mind, to separate them from
each other, to chiss them under theii' proper Iicads, 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 luicertain and chimerical; unless we slioidd
entertain such a scepticisiii as is entirely suhversioe 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 ajflr-
riiative philosophy? 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 botlies. IIow
nuich more highly should we value tliose who, with so
much success, delineate the parts of the mind, in which we
are so intimately concerned ! We have succeeded in deter-
mining tlie laws by wliich the revolutions of tlie 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 lie is a sceptic
as regards dogmatic metaphysics. But from the above
explicit statements and man}- otlier like assertions, it
would seem that his philosophy is notliing but criticism.
It is not his purpose to renounce })hiloso}»hy or even meta-
physics, but to give it a different direction and a (htferent
object, to turn it from fruitless speculation, antl to estab-
lish it on the firm and certain foundation of experience*
Had Hume been an aljsolute sceptic lie could never have
produced an Iminanucl Kant. Now, whatever difference

* An Enquirij coiicerniiKj Iluinan Uitderstdndinq, srct. I., jt. 10.
2 Id., p. IL'. 8 Id.

* Id., sect. XII., i.iuL III., p. 13;}.

420 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

there may 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 the 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-
cerning human understanding : —

All our perceptions may be divided into two classes :
ideas or thoughts 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 will.-' Nothing, at hrst
view, he says, seems more unbounded than thought ; but
a nearer examination shows that it is really confined within
veiy 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 0/ our thinking are derived
either from our outward or inward sentiment; the mixture
and composition of these belongs alone to the mind and will?
Or, in other terms, all our ideas or more feehle perceptions
are copies of our impressions or more lively ones. Even the
idea of God arises from reflecting on the operations of our
own mind, and augmenting, without limit, those qualities
of oroodness and wisdom which we observe in ourselves.

1 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 mixtm-e and composition depends on
a priori forms, inherent in the mind. Hmne 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.^

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: Resemblance, con-
tiijiiity in time or ijlacc, 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 teaclies us that
one billiard-ball communicates motion to another ujjou
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 consequt'ntly
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 whi-rcver exj)eri-

^ An KTifjuirij concerniu<j Ilujii'tn Understititillng, s^'vi. II.. \k I.ji
2 Id., p. 10.

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 according to which all our ideas arise
from sensation.

It remains to be seen how it is derived, what is the
impression from wliich 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
oro-ans 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 with a palsy in the leg or arm, or who had newly

1 An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. IV., p. 27.

2 Id., sect. YLI., pp. 51 f.

DAVID HUME 423

lost those members, frequently endeavors, at first, to move
them, and employ them m 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 power. We learn the influence
of our will from experience alone. And experience onl}^
teaches us how one event constantly follows another, with-
out instructing us in the secret connection whicli binds
them together and renders them inseparable.

The idea Avhich we are examining is not derived from
any consciousness within ourselves. Nor do we get it
through the senses. Then how does it originate ? As we
can have no idea of an3^hing 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 philoso^jhical reason-
ings or common life.

l>ut there still remains one method of avoiding this con-
clusion ; it is to explain the idea of cause by custom or liabit.
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 pcnetiation, to
discover or even conjectui-e, without experience, what event
will result from it, or to carry our foresight Ijcyond that
object which is immediately present to tlie memory and
senses. But wlien one particular s])ecies of event lias al-
ways, in all instances, been conjoined with another, we
make no longer any scruple of foretelling one upon llie
appearance of the otlier.' We o])serve, for example, tluit
there is a constant connection between h(!at and flame, be-
tween solidity and weight, and we are accustomed to infer
the existence of onf frriin tlx; existence o'i tlic other. We

' An J'Jriqniri/ rrnicf iniiii/ //iminu b'nt/rrstnutlini/, si-ci. \'II., p. (t2-

424 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

then call the one object, cause, 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 neitlier an a jjriori 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 liistory informs us of nothing new or strange in this
particular. Its eliief use is only to discover the constant and
universal principles of human yidturer

" 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, who
take things according to their first appearance, attribute
the uncertainty of events to such an uncertainty in the
causes as makes the latter often fail of their usual opera-
tion, though they meet with no impediment in theh- o])era-
tion. But philosophers, observing that almost in every part
of nature, there is contained a vast variety of springs and
principles, which arc hid l)y tlieir minuteness or remoteness,
find that it is at least possible tlie contrariety of events
may not proceed from any eontingency in the cause, but
from the secret operation of contrary causes. This possibility
is converted into certaintij 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 PHILOSOniY

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 commonl}^ go right, but an artist easily
perceives that the same force in the spring or jjendulum
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, philosoj^hers form a maxim
that the connection between all causen 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 wliich 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. VIII., pp. 71 f.

DAVID HUME 427

one define a cause, without comprehending, as a part of the
definition, a necessary connection with its effect. Whoever
attempts to do that will be obliged either to employ unin-
telligible terms, or such as are S3-nonymous to the term
wliich he endeavors to define, and if the definition above
mentioned be admitted, liberty when opposed to necessity,
not to constraint, is the same thing witli chance, which is
universally allowed to have no existence."

Experience refutes the dualism of will and physical
agencies ; it also destroj^s 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 fii^e, 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 A\hat 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 any tiling hut hia observation and experience. An-
imals, therefore, are not giiid('(l in llicsc infciciitcs Ity
reasoning, neither are children, neither are the generality
of mankind, in their oidinary actions and eonchisions ;
neither are \\\v, jiliilosopliei's lliemselves. Animals nn-
doubt(,'dly owe a large part of their k#iowledge to wliat we
call instinet. But the crjierii/icnial rcnsonlmj itself ^ iclu'ch

428 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

we possess in coinmon 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 fuids it hard to regard them as
" anything but sick men's di'eams," 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 secui'e 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 reputation 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 l:)e of

^ A71 Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. IX., pp. 85 if
- The Naturcd History of Religion, sect. XV., p. 362.
3 Id., p. 362.

DAVID HUME 429

such a kind that its falsehood -\voidd 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-
pher nevertheless maintains to the end liis 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 understand ing.^ . . .
This narrow limitation, indeed, of our enquiries, is, in
ever}^ respect, so reasonable, that it suffices to make the
slightest examination into the natural powers of the human
mmd, and to compare them Avith 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 cominon-seiue, is that it distinguishes between
things as they are and things 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 Ave and every sensible creature
were absent or anniliilated. This very table, Avhich Ave
see Avhite, and Avliicli Ave feel liard, is believed to exist,
independent of our perception, and to be something exter-
nal to our mind, wliieh perceives it. Our presence bestows
not being on it; our absence does not anniliilali- it. It
preserves its existence uniform and entire, independent of
the situation of intelligent beings, Avho perceive or con-
template it. But this universal and primary opinion of

^ Exsay concerning Human UndcrsUiudiiKj, soct. X.. ]>. !M.

2 Id., XII, p. 133. « Id. * /,/., p. 121.

430 MODERN rHlLOSOPHY

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
tree^ are nothing but perce])tions in the mind, and fleeting
copies or representations of other existences which remain
uniform and independent. Even the iirimary 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 quan^
tit}^ 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 Hximan Understanding, p. 130.

2 111 excluding physics from the sphere of pure knowledge, the
idealist Plato advances the same opinion.

3 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, Xew York,
1892. Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, 1785; Essays on the
Active Poioers of Man, 1788. Complete works, ed. by W. Hamilton,
Edinburgh, 1827 ff. On the Scotch School see James McCosh, The
Scottish Philosophy, London, 1875 ; Xew 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 metaphysicians.^ In order to refute Hume
it was necessary to put oneself in his position, — the critical
position, — to use liis own weapons, to renew tlie 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 nuist prove it by its acts, by
deliberate and rational thought and speech, and not appeal
to it as to an oracle, vv^henever 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

1 Appeal to Common Sense in Belialf of Religion. Edinlnirgh, 17GG.

" 173.5-1803. Professor at Edinburgh. EssaiJ on the Nature and
Tmmutahiliiy of Truth in Opposition to Sophis'ry and Scepticism, Edin-
burgh, 1770 : Th<^orij of Lan(jua(je, London, 1778 ; Elements of the Science
of Morals, 1790-1793.

8 1753-1828. Elements of the I'hilusnplni of the Human Mind. ?, vols.,
London, 1792-1827; Outlines of Moral Philosoph;/. 1793 [ed. witli critical
notes by J. McCosli, London, lSf>3. Collected works, ed. by W. Ham-
ilton, 10 vols., Edinburgh, 18.54-1858. Thomas Brown (1778-1820),
a pupil of Stewart, approximates Hume (Tnqnirij into the Relation of
Cause and Effect, Edinb., 1803 IT.) — Tn.].

* In the i)liilosophy of William Hamilton (1788-185')), the Scottish
school, following the example of the Academy, culminates in scepti-
cLsm, which it had vindertalcen to combat in David Hume. Sir W. Ham-
ilton was noted for his Discussions on Philosophy and Literature, London
and Edinburgh, 1852; 3d ed., 1800; Lectures on ^fetaphysics, 2d ed.,
1800. and on L.otfic, 2d ed., 1800. See J. Stuart Mill, Examination of
Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, Lomlon, 1805; 5th ed., 1878;
[Veitch, Ilautilton {Philosopliical Classics)}.

4S2 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 other. 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 haj^pens in all cases, and consequently does not yield
necessaiy 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 zu einer jeden lAinftigen Metaphysik, 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. JMoreover, 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 the 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 iu the notion of contiguit}-. Now, Hume expressly
states that one event follows another^ hut that we can never
observe any tie between them. They seem conjoined^ but never
connected.^ Hence, if experience never shoivs us a cause,
but onl}' a succession of events (for that is what Hume
means by the ill-cho§en term conjunction, wliich is synony-
mous with connection), must we not either negate the idea
of causation, or infer a diif erent origin for it ?

At this point Hume's criticism is corrected and com-
pleted by that of Kant.^

^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sec. VII., p. 62.

- [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 (Kosmologische Briefe, Augsburg, 1761) ; N. Tetens
(1736-1805), who influenced Kant, aims to reconcile the rationalistic
and sensationalistic psychology ( Versuch iiber die menschlicke 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 philosophers, whose chief aim is to popularize philosophy :
Moses Mendelssohn (1729-1786; complete works, 7 vols., Leipsic,
1813-44) ; C. Garve (1712-1798), the translator of Ferguson's and A.
Smith's writings ; J. J. Engel (1741-1802 ; Der Philosoph f/ir die Welt,
1775-77); T. Abbt (1738-1766; Vom Tode furs Vaterland, Berlin,
1761); Ernst Platner (1741-1818; Philosophische Aphorismen, 1776);
F. Nicolai (1733-1811). To the Aufkldrung also belong the deist
II. S. Reiinarus (1694-1765; Ahhandlnngen run den vornehmsten W(dir-
heiten der nalUrlichen Religion, Hamburg, 1754, 6th ed., 1794; aud the
poet G. E. Leasing (1729-1781). — Tii.]

434 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

§ 62. Kanti

Immanuel Kant,2 jjQj.j^ in KonigsLerg, 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,
Miclielet, Willni, Fortlage, Harms, Zeller, Seth, Eoyce, etc., mentioned
on pp. 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
Philosoplmche Bibliothek, Heidelberg, 1880 ff. The three Critiques and
several other works, ed. by K. Kehrbach, in Reclam's Universal-Bib-
liolhek, Leipsic. A new edition is being prepared by the Berlin
Academy of Sciences. B. P>dmann has published Reflexionen Kanfs
ztir tritischen Philoxophie in 2 vols., Leipsic, 1882-84 ; R. Reicke, Lo.^e
Blatter aus KanCs NacJdass, Kbnigsberg, 1889, 1895]. Charles Villers,
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] ;
£mile Saisset, Le scepticisme, iSnefidhne, Pascal, Kant, Paris, 1865;
D. Nolen, La critifjue de Kant et la melaphysique de Leibniz, Paris, 1875;
M. Desdouits, La philosophie de Kant d'aprh les trois critiques, Paris,
1876 ; [F. Paulsen, Versuch einer Entwickelungsgeschichte der kantischen
Erkenntnisstheorie, Leipsic, 1875 ; 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, Edinbixrgh, 1879 ; W.
Wallace, Kant {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, Kant's 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 Revieiv,
beginning with vol. II., 3 ff. See also Schopenhauer's Kritik der
Kantischen Philosophie, and T. H. Green's Lectures on the Philo.^ophy
of Kant. —Tr.]

KANT 435

city (1740-1746), Kant became a private tutor, tlien a
Piivatdocent 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 hardl}- 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 liis Trdiime eines Geistcrseliers (17()G), 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 : De vnindi sensibilis atque intclligi-
hllis forma et j^rincijiiis'^ (1770); Kritik dcr reinen Ver~
nunft (1781 ; 2d edition, revised, 1787) : ^ liis master-work,

* To the first period l)elon;;.s his Allf/emeine Naturgeschkhte unci
Theorie ties Himmeh, 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 preoedinc; note,
as well as Hartmann's KanCs I'lrkeiinliuan-lheone, etc., Leipsic, 18!)l.
-Tk.]

2 [Translated into Knglish, with an introduction and discussion, by
W. .1. Kckoff, New York, 1894. — Tn.]

2 [Separate editions of the Kriti/,; \>y Ki'luliadi (l)nsed u]i(iii ilu'
first edition). P.. Krdrnann, and K. Adickcs (l>ot li Imsril upon llir sec-
ond). Kngl. traiislalions (of 2d ed.) by Aleiklcjolin (lioliti's Library),

436 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

wliich forms the basis of the following: Prolegomena zu
einerjeden kuiiftigen Metapkysik'^ (1783); Grundleyung zur
Metaphysik der Sitten"^ (1785); Metaphysische Anfangs-
griinde der Naturwissenschaft^ (1786) ; Kritik der prakti-
schen Vernunft^ (1788); Kritik der l/rtheilskraft^ (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 {KpiveLV, 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 Maliaffy and Bernard, London and
New York, 1889 ; Selections (from Critique of Pure Reason, Critique oj
Judgment, and ethical writings) by J. Watson {Modern Philosophers),
2d ed., New York, 1888. See also Stirling's partial translation of the
Critique in the work cited, p. 437, note 1. — Tr.]

1 [Engl. tr. by Mahaffy and Bernard, London and New York,
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.]

4 [Critique of Practical Reason; Engl. tr. by T. K. Abbott in same
volume as above. — Ti?.]

6 [Critique of Judfjment ; Engl. tr. by J. H. Bernard, London and
New York, 1892. — Tr.]

* [Relir/ion tvithin the Bounds of Pure Reason; first part tr. by T. K.
Abbott in the same volume with the ethical writings, .mpra. Trans-
lations of the Philosophy of Law 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 ; A\ith idealism
it claims that their /o;v?i is the work of reason, — that reason,
by its own laws, transforms into ideas the given manifold of
sensation. Criticism neither aims to be sensationalistic nor
intellectualistic in the extreme sense of these terms, but
transcendental ; i. e., going beyond {transcend ens) 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 'yvoidt
aeavTov 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 chfferent elements of this faculty, and, true to the critical
spirit whence it springs, distinguishes between the theo-
retical order, the practical order, and the a^sthetical order.
Reason resembles a queen, who, under three different
names, governs three separate states, each having its own
laws, customs, and tendencies. In the tlieoretical spliere,
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 ffisthetical sphere, as the
sense of beauty and teleological fitness. The Kantian [)hi-
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 knowlfdgc?

An idea taken by itself (man, earth, lieat) is not knowl-

' [H. Vaihiiij((jr, Cmmncnlnr zu Knnfs Kritik tier rrimii Vinmnft,
vol. J., Stuttgart, lb«l ; vul. 11, //;., ISlfL'; II. Colxrw, KauCs Tkeorieder

438 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

edge ; in order to become knowledge, the ideas of man,
earth, and heat must be combined with otlier 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 predicate extended adds nothing to tlie subject that
is not already contained in it. This judgment tells me
notliing 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 {avvTiOrjixL) 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 ;
Avhich is not the case with analytic judgments.

But here Kant makes an important reservation. Not
every synthetic judgment is necessarily scientific knowl-
edo-e. 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. Volkelt, Kanfs Erl-enntnhstheo-
rie. etc., Leipsic, 1879 ; E. Pfleiderer, KantUcher Ki-iticismus und englische
Philosophie, Tubingen, 1881 ; J. K. Sthling, Text-hook 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 Idealildt des Raumes und der Zeit, Berlin, 1883. — Tr.].

1 Kriiik der reinen Vernunft (Ilosenkrauz), p. 21 ; Prolegomena,
p. 16.

KANT 439

saiy. " 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 scientilic proposition. Wlien-
ever, however, you say : Heat expands, you 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
necessar}^, 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 boches which it usually expands ? Hume is right
on this point. Since experience always furnishes oidy a
limited number of cases, it cannot yield necessity and
universality. Hence, a judgment a posteriori, i. e., one
based solely on experience, cannot constitute scientific
knowledge. In order to be necessary, or scientilic, 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, providcfl the senses fnrnish
the materials for a jndgment, and reason the cement
needed to unite tlieni. Take the proposition already cited:
Heat expands bodies. This proposition contains two dis-

1 Prolegomena, \>\i. 22 &. — Before Kant's tnuc, mathematical pro
poKitioiiH were regarded as analytic.
' Proleyomeiia, pp. L'S IT.

440 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

tinct elements: (1) the elements furnished by sensation:
heat, expansion, bodies ; (2) an element not given by sen-
sation, bnt derived solely from the intellect: the causal
relation wliich 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
sup'frestingr a scientific notion to him. The critical philos-
ophy occupies a place between these two extreme theories,
and recognizes both the role 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 Ivnowledge. 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 ^stJietic

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 {Anschauung) ?

Sensibility, we said, furnishes the understanding with
the materials of its knowledge. But the materials them-
selves, of wliich the garment is to be made, already have

1 Krilik, p. 28.

KANT 441

a certain shape; they are no h3nger 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 which the latter
needs, without adding something of its own ; it impresses
its stamp, its own forms, upon things ; or, as one might sa}',
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 j^osteriori element, form and matter, something that reason
produces spontaneously and something, I know not what,
derived elsewhere.

What is this form ? What are the a j^riori 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 tlie inner sense. Space
and time are original intuitions of reason, prior to all expe-
rience : this is the innnortal discovery of Kant, and one of
the fundamental teachings of the critical philosophy.^

The following proofs may be offered in support of tlie
view that space and time come from reason and not from
experience: (1) Although tlie infant has no accurate notion
of distance, it tends to withdraw from disagreeable objects
and to ap[)roach sucli 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
» Krilik; pp. ;n-51.

442 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

idea of before^ beside, beyond, i. e., the idea of space, of which
these are but particuhir applications. The 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 the 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 single instant. But such truths are concerned with
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 sj^aces, 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 arc not results, but principles, conditions a
priori and sine quiLus 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 in 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 liad these ideas
a priori^ unless reason created tliem prior to all its intu-
itions, unless they pre-existed as original and inalienable
forms, sense-perception could never take [)lace.

We now know tlie con(htions under wliicli sense-percep-
tion operates. It depends on the a p)riori 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 jHrceiving objects, instinctive habits,
inhering in the thinking subject.

The tranHcendental idealiti/ of S|)aee and time : such is
the ijnpoitant conclusion reached by tlie critical examina-
tion of sensibility, the mene thekel of dogmatism. Let us
see what tliis conclusion iinj)bes. If neither space nor
time exists independently of reas-^ijii 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 ; the other, space. As they
appear to it ! which means that sensibility gives us appear-
ances, or (f)atv6fjb6va, and that it is incapable of giving
us the thing-in-itself, the vovjxevov. 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 bafdes
it, as it forever baffles the senses.

2. Critique of the Understanding^ 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., tlie 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-
icendental Dialectic.

1 Kritik, pp. 55 fi.

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, accorcUng to him, a priori functions of the
understanding, means of knoivledge and 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 {Dasein
und Nichtsein), 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 plum desiderium ; no one before Hegel
has really made a serious attempt to solve this problem.

The tlieory of judgment which Kant linds in traditional
logic, serves as his guide in the discovery and classifica-
tion of the categories. Indeerl, ho says, tlic judgment is

446 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the liigliest function of the understanding. Now the cate-
gories are the forms according to which wo 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 pliilosophers) ; (o) 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, inliabited) ; (11) the assertory judgment (The earth
is round) ; (12) the apodictic judgment (God must be just).
The first three express totality, plurality, and unit}', i. e.,
in a word, the idea of quantitij ; 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 ; fmally, 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 tlie standpoint of quantity, every phenomenon,
1 Kritik, p. 79. 2 la.^ pp. 131 ff.

KANT 447

i. e., eveiything presented by the intuitive faculty as exist-
ing in space and in time, is a quantity, i. e., a fixed extent
and a fixed dui'ation. Tliis principle excludes the hyjjoth-
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 chafice ; there is, moreover, a reciprocal action
between the effects and their causes ; which excludes the
idea of fatiim.

(4) From the standpoint of modality, ever}' phenomenon
is possible that conforms to the laws of space and time,
and every phenomenon is necessary., the al)sence of which
would imply the suspension of these laws; which excludes
miracles.

The first and second of these principles constitute the law^
of continuity ; the third and fourth, the law of causality.

These categories and the principles which follow from
them form the inire., innate, a priori element, and, as it
were, the patrimon}' of the understanding (^Vcrstand).
Tlie latter does not receive them ; it draws them from its
ov.'ii inner nature ; it docs not find them in the phenomenal
world ; it imposes them upon it.^ These conclusions of the
transcendental logic are of the liigliest importance. But,
before we develop them, we must, in a few words, cxi)lain
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 tliciu, aii-I
makes intuitions of them ; tlie intellect synthesizes the in-
tuitions, i. e., judges and reasons). We discriminated, in
sensibilit}-, between n posteriori intuitions and llie a priori

448 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

intuitions of space and time ; in tlie understanding we
discovered a number of a priori concepts, which are so
many compartments, as it were, in which reason stores
and elaborates the products of experience. But though
containino- many elements, tlie 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 lit 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 Avhich 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 operation 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 j^sthetic.

The critique of the intuitive faculty has demonstrated
that we see things through colored glasses (space and time),
i. e., otherwise than tliey are in themselves. The examina-
tion of the understanding shows that Ave 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, tliat is, as we make
them. When we perceive them, they have already been
stamp(;(l ; indeed, they are perceived by the very forms in-
hering in sensil)ility (si)afo and time)- They are no longer
things; tlicv arc notliing ])iit pheuomma. Ilcnce lli.' plic-
nomenon may Ijc defined as tlic thing tiaiisforiiicd l»y tiio

>'9

450 MODERN THILOSOPHY

iiiould of the intuitive faculty. What constitutes it is, on
the one hand, the thing which impresses the senses, but
above everytliing 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 j^he^iomenon.
The phenomenon is the product of reason ; it does not exist
outside of us, but in us ; it does not exist beyond the limits
of intuitive reason.^

Now, while the Esthetic 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 tln^ough reason that the tilings
become quantities, qualities, effects, and causes, which the}''
are not in themselves. Hence we may say without exag-
geration that it is reason ivhich prescribes its laws to the seti-
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 yet 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 deifjdng the human understanding, he claims
to limit it, — to force the overflowing river into its natural

1 Kritik, 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. Transcendental Dialectic ^

From the faculty of judgment ( VerstancT) 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 voik of the
ancients. The concepts of " reason," or Ideas,^ are : the
thing-iii-itself^ or the absolute^ the universe, the soul, 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 tlie infinite
mass of judgments and reduce them to a system. Hence
"reason," which fasliions them, is the higlicst synthetic
faculty, the systematic and scientilic faculty. Thus, from

^ The absolute rationalism of his successors, on the other hand,
does not admit any kiml of transcendency.

« Krilik, pp. 238 ff.

• The term is deriveil from Platonism, liut Uh' Mi as of Kant aro
not, like those of Plato, realities existing ai)arL from oiir tliought.

452 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the co-operation of sensibility, judgment, and " reason "
arise 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 ; tlie understanding, witli tlie
help of its categories, makes concepts, judgments, and
scientitic propositions of tliem ; finally, " reason " embraces
these disjecta membra under the Idea of the cosmos, and
makes a science of tliem. 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 tlieoloiju.

Tlie "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 tlie sum-total of phenomena (God).
" Reason," consequently, is not a faculty distinct from the
understanding ; it is merely its complete develo})ment.
But we shall not insist on this 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 priori
syntheses of reason and not l^eings 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
1 Kritik, pp. 252 ff.

KANT 453

God are not phenomena ; the Ideas — in this, sa3'S 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 cliild 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, which hy 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 metaph^'sician. Let us say, to be just, that
the illusion is common to all intellects, just as the illusion
that the heaven bounds the earth is shared by all. But
there is this difference between the dogmatic philosopher
and the 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 : Kno\\ledge is relative ;
a known absolute signifies a relative absolute ; which is
contradictory.

What is true of traditional ontology is true of psychology,
cosmology, and theology.

Rational psychology, as Descartes, Leibniz, and A\'(>lff
conceived it, rests on a paralogism.^ '• I tliiiik," says Des-
cartes, " therefore T am " — and mentally adds : a substance.
Now, tliat is just what he has no riglit to do. 7 tJil7iky
means: I am tin- loL^ical sul)jectof my tlmiiLjlit. Uutliave I
the riglit to infer fiom this that I am a suh'Stancc in the
sense whicli Cartesian metaphysics attai-hcs to tlic term?
A logical subject is one tiling, a metaphysical subject m
' Krid/c, [(p. '21o IT.

454 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

(luite another. When I express the judgment : The earth
is a planet, 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 i^henomena, i. e., facts

KANT 455

produced by sensibilit}^, 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, althougli 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 the 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 which 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 descenchng scale tliat cuhuinates in complete
destruction.

By showing us tlie possibility of what dogmatism had
])r(!viously aflinncil in Sjiino/.a, vi/., tlic identity of spirit-

1 A'riVfVr, first edition, J). l.'8S : So kmnle dur/i wold (hixjenigc Klirns,
welches (Ip.u dusxpren Ersrlieiiiurif/m zum Gruu/ltj lie;//, tiuis unscrn Sinn so
afficirl, ilass er die Vorxlellniuien von lionin, ^[(llf^t•i^\ firslall, etc., JickommL,
dieses Elintx . . . kihinle dock auch zufjlcirh dns Subject der Grdanken
sein. . . . Dcinnoch ist selhst durch die einf/erdnmte Einfnchheit der Nntur
die mensrhlirhe Seele von der Matprie, innun vian sic (wie mnn soil) hlos
als Erscheinunfj bclrarlitet in Ansehung des Substrali dcrselben gar nichl
hinreichend unterschieden-

456 MODERN rillLOSOPHY

ual substance and material substance, criticism does away
witli the hypotheses of injluxus, 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 problem 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 mj^sterious
fascination for Kant. He touched upon it, as we saw, in
connection with the idea of time and its function as an
intermediary between tlie 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 tliing-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
the 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 miiverse is Ibnited in time and in sjyace. Let
us assume, for the sake of argument, that it is uot. The
universe, as a whole, is composed of parts which exist sim-
ultaneously. Now, I cannot conceive it as a whole except
by a mental addition, a successive synthesis of its parts.
But, by hypothesis, these parts are infinite in number.
Hence their successive addition requires an infinite time.
Consequent!}', 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 would be, beyond its limits, an infinite
space (for the idea of space does not admit of liinit-^);
hence there would be space by the side of things, and we
might speak of a relation between the universe and the
inliidte space surrounding it, i. e., of a relation between
objects and something whicli is not an object; for we now
know that space is not an ol)jc'Ct. But a ivlation l)etween
an object and something tliat is not an object is impos-
sible; a relation may obtain between tilings in space; there
can be none })et\veen things and the space in wliicli tlicv
exist. Hence the universe is unlimited. — If it liad had a
beginning, it would have been precedcil hy lime without
content, i. e., by nothing, for time without content is equal
to nothing. Now ex nihilo niliil. Hence tlie univei"se is
eternal (Parmcnidcs, Aristotle).

458 MODERN PHILOSOrHY

ANTINOMY 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 be proved with equally cogent
reasons.

Thesis : Matter is composed of simple elements, 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 whatever is left ; now, out of noth-
ing nothing can be composed. Every composite thing pre-
supposes simple constitutive elements. Hence, matter is
composed of intUvisible elementaiy 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. Now, that
which is extended is divisible. Inextended particles are
no longer matter. Hence, there are no simple material
elements.

ANTIKOIMY 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 fii'st, but merely a link in the infinite chain of

KANT 459

events. Now, according to the principle of sufiicient
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 inlinite chain, there is no first
cause or concUtion 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
tliat which it assumes when the effect is produced ; first, it
exists as a virgin, then, when tlie 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 criticpie, that
every phenomenon is an effect. Hence, liberty in the in-
deterministic sense is impossible.

ANTnsro^SIY OF ISIODALITY

According to the thesis, there exists either in the icorld or
beyond il, a necessary bein//, an absolute citiisc of thr viii-
verse. The demonstration is similar to the jirool' of tin-
existence of frec! causes. Tlie world is a series of effects.
Each effect, to l)e produced, presupposes a determined
series of causes or eoiidilioiis, and, eouse(|ueutly, a lirst
cause or coiidilioii, an existence that is no longer contin-
ge-nt 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 Kritik, pp. 456 if.

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 huncbed 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 first cause. ^ By connecting the series of
contingent things with a first and necessary cause, it ima-
nnes that it closes the series, while, in realitv, there still
remains, between this alleged first cause and the following
t-ause, 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 necessaiy 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 tliat does not fall
within tlie scope of the senses; (2) it professes to estab-
lish the existence of a God who is the creator of matter;
(•S) with what right, moreover, does it compare the universe
to a clock or a house ? Is the worhl necessarily a tvork
presupposing a workman ? Why, instead of being a macliine
begun at a given time, could it not l)e an eternal reality?
(4) Besides, what is finality? Is it inlierent in tlie things
themselves ? or is not rather our own caprice which confers

* Sfic tlif f(»urfli aiitiiioiny.

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 whicli 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 co say, its last word
is the iiroxv in matters of metaphysics. Enclosed within
the magic circle of our intuitions, our concepts, our a priuri
Ideas, we perceive, we judge, we know, but we know
phenomena merely, i. e., relations existing between an
object absolutely unknown in itself and a thinking subject,
which Ave 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-

1 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, Kant's Begriindwig dcr Ethik, Berlin, 1877; E. Zeller,

KANT 463

soned, proved, scientifically established, and legitimized,
it would be a grave mistake to consider the sage of Koeu-
igsberg as a sceptic in the traditional sense, and to impute
to liim 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 completel}^ to misunderstand the spirit of the
philosophy of Kant and the linal 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, accoi-d-
ing to Kant, a subordinate one ; this function is regulntive
and modifying, not constitutive and creative. The Will,
and not reason, forms the basis of our faculties and of
things : that is the leading thought of Kantian philosoph3^
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 I'eality of these Ideas,
by means of reasoning. True, he combats s])iritualistic
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.
Wliat he combats to the utmost and pitilessly destroys is
the dogmatism of theoretical reason, under whatever form

Ueber dus Kanlisclie ^for(l/p|■lncip, Berlin, ISSO ; J. G. Scluinuaii,
Kantian Elhics and the Ethics of Erolulion, London, 1881 ; N. rortcr,
Kant's Ethics, Cliicago, IHHf! ; V. VV. Fiirstor, Der Eiilirirlrlunf/sf/diuj <lcr
Kantischcn Ethik, etc., Berlin, \Hi\ ; Tiinjer, Die Relif/ionslehre Kant's,
Jena, 1>^71 — Ti:.].

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 ivill and depending on its oivn resources. By way of
retaliation — and here he reveals the dex:)th of his philo-
sophic faith — he concedes a certain metaphysical capacity
to practical reason^ i. e., to ivill.

Like the understantUng, 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 j^ostulate of practical
reason, an immediate fact of the moral consciousness. ^

Here arises one of the great difficulties 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 phenomenal world is governed by an
absolute determinism? Kant, whose belief in free-will is
no less ardent than his love of truth, cannot admit an abso-
lute incompatibilit}^ between natural necessity and moral
libert}^ 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
intelliofence or those of the will.

The solution would, undoubtedly, be impossible, if the

^ Zitr Griindlegung der Melaphysik der Sitten, p. 80 ; Kritik der
praklischen Vernunft, p. 274.

KANT 465

Critique of Pure Reason absolutely denied liberty, 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 the}^ 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 point of vieiv, 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 very 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 categoi-ies api)ly 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 do(;triiie of tlir iibsoliilc ego from Kantian

* Krilik till- pruktiachcn Verntnift, \>\>. L'L'.') iT.
80

4G6 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

j)remises. 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 tlie Middle Ages, the
queen of the sciences, but the humble servant of inde-
pendent ethics. Tliis 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 giite JVllle).^

His conviction in this matter is most clearly expressed by
the doctrine of the primacy of practical reason^^ i. e., of the
will.^ 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 demonstralile 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

^ Kr'itih der praliischen Vernunff, p. 261. ^ 7^/,^ p_ og4_

3 Grundlegunrj zur Melapliysik der Sitten, p. 11 : Es ist uhernll y^icJits
in der Welt, ja uberhaupt auch auxser derselben zu denken moglich, loas
ohne EinscTirdnkung filr gut konnte gehalten icerden, als allein ein Gutkr

WiLLE.

^ Kritik der prakti^chen Vernunft, p. 258. ^ Id., pp. 105 ff.

KANT 467

would be still more disastrous, were 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 were proved that we are free, that the soid 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 \\hich i' inspires, be it
friendship) or even the love of God, renders the will het-
ero7iomous, 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, nothing more nor less. The essence of
Christianity is eternal morality ; the goal of the church is
the triumph of riglit in humanity. When the chui'ch aims
at a different goal, it loses its raison d'etre}

^ Din Rdigion innerhnlh iler Grenzen (krhlosxen Vernnnfl, pp. 130 ff.;
205 ff. — The inrlepemlevt mornlitij of the socialist P. J. Proudhon (1809-
1805) is grounded on these principles. It is based on the following
proposition : " Morality must cease o lean on theolotry 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 l)elief in God and the immortality of the
soul." This doctrine of Proudhon has been reproduced and popular-
ized by a weekly journal, tlie " Morale imlcpendante," edited by Massol,
Morin, and Coignet (1805 11.;.

468 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

III. Critique of Judgment*

"While the Critique of Practical Reason, with its categori-
cal imperative, its primacy of the conscience, and its absolute
independence of morality, satisfies Kant's moral feeling
and liis 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,
wliich form the subject-matter of his Critique of Judgment.
We have seen how, in the Critique of Pure Reason., he
universally combines synthesis with analysis, how he solders
together the heterogeneous paits 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 2J^"iort concepts which are diametrically opposed, he
inserts intermediary categories. The same synthetic im-
pulse leads him, in his Critique of Judgriient, to bridge
over the chasm wliich separates theoretical reason and the
conscience.^

The sesthetical and teleological sense is an intermediate
faculty, a connecting link between the understanding and
the will. Truth is the object of tlie understanding, nature
and natural necessity its subject-matter. The will strives
for the good ; it deals with freedom. The ajsthetical 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, Kant's Teleologie, etc., Berlin, 1874; Yi.Co\\&i\, Kant" s
Begriinduny der Aesthetik. Berlin, 1889 ; J. Goldfriedrich, Kant's Aes-
thetik, Leipsic, 1895 ; J. H. Tufts, The Sources and Development ofKant^s
Teleology, Chicago, 1892. — Tr.].

2 Kritik der Urtheilskraft, 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 sesthetical sense differs both from
the understantUng 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 testhetical
sense makes the beautiful. Beauty does not inhere in ob-
jects ; it does not exist apart from the ajsthetical 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), wliich 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 sul)lime, on the other hand, disturbs ns. agitates
us, transports us. Beauty dwells in tlie 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
l)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 tlic hoavenly distances without l)cing overwhelmed by
the enormous figures, and our imagination, which cannot

* Krilik tier Urtheilskraft, y\k I'j IT.

470 MODERN PHILOSOrHY

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 Urhahene ist erheheml^.
In the feeling of the sublime, man reveals himself as a being
infinite in reason, finite in imagination. Both infinite and
fuiite : how is that possible ? Kant cannot fathom this
mystery without surpassing the limits which he has pre-
scribed to knowledge.^

2. Teleoloiju? — 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: tins is objective finality, which constitutes
the suitable {das Zwecknu'ismje). Thus, a flower may be
both the object of an a3sthetical judgment in the artist, and
of a teleological judgment in the naturalist, \A\o 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 Eeaso7i 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 Kritik der Urthellskraft, pp. 97 ff. ; 399 ff.
« Id., 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 vicAV
forces itself upon us when we come to consider anatomy,
physiology, and biology.

The antinomy of mechanism, aflirmed by the theoretical
reason, and teleology, claimed bj* the teleological sense, is
no more insoluble than that of necessity and freedom.^
Teleology is notliing 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 Beason. 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, the 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 theorj^ the cause and the effect of the
mechanist, the creative agent, the means, and the goal of
the telef)logist, are in each other, inscparaljle, simultaneous.
Imagine an understandino; which is not lx)und 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 tlie efficient cause, but would be innnanent in it
and identical witli it. Immanent teleologij, which iden-
tifies the ends of nature with the acting causes, is the
natural solution of the antinomy of niocliaiiisip. and i)ni-
posiveness.

We see that the sMbjectivity of lime and space is the most

' Kiitik iter Urtlttilshafl, 1'1>. '-^^2 IT.

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 Critiq^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 wdiich our century has produced are continuations
of Kantianism. Even 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.

^ 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, hut also
as the metaphysician who most closely approximates the positive
philosophy."

KANT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 473

§ 63. Kant and German Idealism i

The dogmatic Leibniz-Wolffiaii scliool,- the sceptic G. E.
ScHULZE,^ the eclectic Herdee,"^ Jacobi ^ and Hamann,^
the exponents of religious faith, accept the challenge
Avliich Kant had hurled at all traditions. Some "inde-
pendents" (Salomon Malmon," Bakdili,^ etc.) take ex-
ception to his teachings or protest against them, although
they, too, feel his influence. But the Kantian philosophy
was eagerly welcomed, though not wholly understood, by
numerous disciples, some of tliem (B outer wek,^ Krug,^''

^ [See p. 434, note 1 ; also vol. V. of K. Fischer's Ilislori/ and Zeller's
German Philosophy. — Tu.]

2 Eberhard (1738-1809), professor at Halle, was its chief represen-
tative.

3 1761-1833. Author of ^'Enesidemus, 1792. [If tlie categories can-
not be applied to things-in-theniselves, 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-themselvcs and their properties, or of the
limits of human knowledge." Kant's critique logically culminates in
scepticism. — Tr.]

* 17-44-1803. The theologian Herder, one of the stars of German
literature, teaches a kind of Christianized Spinozism, in which he antici-
pates the philosophy of Schelling and Schleiermacher. To the Critique
of Kant he opposes his Metakridk, etc., Leipsic, 1799. He also wrote:
Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichle der Menschheit, Riga, 1784-1791.

5 1743-1819. Complete works, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1812-25. [See
Harms, Ueher die Lehre von F. H. Jncohi, Berlin. 187G; L. Ldvy-Bruhl,
La philosophie de Jacobi, Paris, 1894. — Tu.]

6 1730-1788. Works published by Roth, Berlin, 1821-43 ; [also by
(Jildemeister, 6 vols., Gotha, 1858-73].

^ 1754-1800. ilaimou rejects tlie Kantian notion of Ih.' ihing-in-
itself, and approaches Fichte. [Cf. Witlo, S. Maivum, Berlin, 1870.]
' 1761-1S08. Bardili's rational realistn anticipates Hegel's logic.

• 1706-1828, Professor at Gottingen, known especially by liis Acs-
thetik, Leipsic, 1806.

" 1770-1842. Kant's successor at Kiinigsberg, 1805, then (1809),
professor at Leipsic. IJntwu/f eincs ncucn Oryanurt der Philosojdiic,

i74 MODERN riiiLOSoriiv

FiiiES,^ etc.) being original thinkers. Its chief apostles
were: Schillek,^ the national poet of Germany, IIein-
HOLD,^ 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 ; Fundamentalphilosophie, 2nd ed., 1819 ; Das System der
theoretischen Philosophie, 3 vols., 2d ed., Konigsberg, 1819-23; System
der practischen Philosophie, 3 vols., id., 1817-19; Handbuch der Philo-
sophie, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1820-21 ; Das allgemeine Handbuch der philoso-
phischen Wissenschaften, 2d ed., 5 vols., Leipsic, 1832-38. — Krug, who
holds that an original a priori sj^ithesis, not further to be explained,
takes place within us between beiiig and knowledge, 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. We mention the following writings : System der
Philosophie als evidenter Wissenschaft, Leipsic, 1804; Wissen, Glaube
und Ahndung, Jena, 1805, 3d ed., 1837; [his best known work : Neue
Kritikder Vernunft, 3 vols., Heidelberg, 1807, 2d ed., 1828-31]; and
many highly prized text-books. He had numerous disciples; among
them : the philosopher Aj)elt, the naturalist Sclileiden, and the tlieo-
logian De Wette.

2 (17.59-1805). Briefe uher rcsthetische Erziehung, 1793-95; \_Ueber
Anmuth und Wurde, 1793; Ueber naive und sentimentale Dichtung, 1795-
90, Engl. tr. in Bohn's Library. See Kuno Fischer, Schiller als Philo-
soph, Frankfort, 1858 ; 2d completely revised ed. (Schillerschriften, III,
IV), Heidelberg, 1891-92. — Tr.].

3 1758-1823. Versuch einer neuen Theorie des menschlichen Vorstel-
lungsvermogens, Jena, 1789 ; ^Das Fundament des philosophischen Wissens,
1791]. Reinhold's so-called elementary theory derives the a priori and
a posteri<n-i 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.

KA2sT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 475

ever order they may belong, are derived from tlie senses
(and reflection) ; reason does not create them, it receives
them. Intellectualism, on the other hand, had asserted:
All our ideas and consequently all truths whatsoever are
the product of reason. So-called outer perception is merely
an elementary speculation ; the thinking subject is wholly
active, and even in cases where it imagines that it receives,
it creates. Criticism agrees with sensationalism in holding
that our ideas, without exception, are given by sensation ;
but, it adds, their matter or material alone is given, their
form is the product of reason : in tliis respect intellectualism
has the right on its side. In other words, it distinguishes,
in every idea, a material element, which is furnished a
posteriori by the senses, and a formal element, furnished a
priori by thought. Every science, therefore, or philosophy,
consists of two parts : a pure^ 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 truth and to employ the only possible
method. It is both idealistic and realistic, and yet, strictly
speaking, neither one nor the othei-.

But this state of equilibrium did not last long. Ueiidiold
soon disturbed it with his elementar// theory,^ and Kant lived
to see the triumph of absolute intellectualism, whieli, l)y
way of reaction, led to the restoration of pure sensational-
ism. He protested, as loudly as he could, against this con-
dition of things; yet it must be acknowledged that his
Critique of Pure Reason, 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 wliicli Lcssing and Herder bad recently intixKhu-ed
into f Jermany, tliese germs soon sj)rouled.

Kant had intiinateil that the iiiysteiit)us unknown eou-

1 Sec page 171, note ;5.

476 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

cealed beliind the phenomena of sense might possibly be
identical with the unknown in ourselves. This simple
thought, wliich, however, he failed to carry out, contained
the philosophy of Fichte.

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 things 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 2Jroduces nature^ 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, —
1 Proleyomena, pp. 84-85.

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 tlie thing-in-itself, a
transcendent object, which, consequently, cannot be known,
a mysterious agent, wliich calls forth sensations, and co-
operates in the formation of ideas, but in regard to which
I have no right to allirm 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
caiise 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 plienomcna of sense, is
the same as the substratum of the inner plu'nouu'ua, the soul,
or ego, or reason giving to itself not only the funa but also
the matter of its ideas. Reason not merely assists in the
production of the plienomenon, it is the creator — the sole
creator — of llic ])licn(tni(ii:il world. Hence it is, in the

1 This contradiction was especially pointed out Ity .1. Sigisnmnd
Beck (1701-1840), wlio did not, liowevor, succeed in eliminating il
from Kantianism. [Hi'ck (Einzif/ vtwfllcher Sl(in(f/»niht oux u-elc/ievi
(lie krilische Philo.tophte heurtheill wenlin ?/ims.s, Itiga, ITilO) rejects the
thing in-itself, and interprets the Cnti<iue in the idealistic sense. — Tu.]

2 Krilik der reinen Vernunft, p. 231.
» Id.

* Hence the \muu-, philosuithij nf identity.

47S MODERN PHILOSOPHY

last analysis, an inconsistency of the Kantian philosophy to
concede the existence of a thing-in-itself outside of and lij
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 al'lirming the prinuu-y 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 tliing-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 realit}^ 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 iiatiire nothing
but the law of causality, mechanism, the determinism of

KANT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 479

facts, but it conceives liberty as a prerogative of tlie thing-
iii-itsclf, wbile niaiataiiiing the impossibility of a theoretical
demonstration. The thinq-in-itself via// be considered as
free. Now, practical reason categorically alhrms the liberty
of the acting subject, the freedom of the ego. Hence, the
Critique of Pmdical Reason^ instead of contradicting the
idealistic conclusions, confirms them : the ego itself is
the thing-in-itself (the free tiling) ; the object which seems
to determine us from without, is merely the subject acting
within ourselves ; object and subject, being and thought,
nature and mind, are identical. If the / were determined
by an object-z?i-/ts'f7/, the " two reasons " would absolutely
contradict each other ; the ego would henceforth be a slave
in theory and in practice, and moral freedom woidd be an
inexplicable illusion. But the Ihing-in-itsclf, the thing
which determines us ''from without" being in reality the
soVi\-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 tlie existence of a personal God apart fi-om
the eoro. But tliis doul)le affirmation is a mere accident in
the system : essential to it is the allirmatioii of the absolute
freedom of the ego, the doctrine of the practical al)solute of
the ego. Xow, the ego which Kant holds to be absolutely
free is not the empirical ego, the plicnomciial self, the self
which exists in time, but the noumenal ego, i. e., tlie ego
raised al)0ve space and time. To speak of the immortality
of an ego that does not exist in time, for whidi, tlierefore,
there is no before or after, is an inconsistency similar to the
doctrine tliat the tliing-in-itsclf is distinct from tlie personal
subject, an inconsistency wliicli has no organic connection
with the essence of the Hystem. The same holds foi- the
theistic teacliing. Ood is undouljtcdly (li-<(iiict from tlie

480 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

empirical and plienomenal 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, liis immaiient telcoloffj/, and especially his hypothesis
of an intellect capable of an immethate 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.

FICHTE 481

§ 04. Yichte^

English sensationalism and ihc philosophy of relativity
were founded by a student of medicine and a layman.
German idealism and the philosophy of the absolute come
from theology. Johaxn Gottlieb Fichte (1765-1814),
its founder, like Schelling and Hegel, first studied for the
ministry. His Versuch eiiicr Kritik aller Offenbarung (1792)
won for him a professorship in Jena (1793). In 1794 he
published his chief work: GriLiidlage der gcsammtcn Wisseii-
SGliaftslelire^ which was afterwards revised and republished
under different titles ; and in 1796 his Grundlage dcs JSfatur-
rechts. 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 works which established liis fame, we mention
the following: Die Bestimmung des Menschen^ (1800);
Ueber das Wesen des G-elehrten und seine Erscheinungen im
Gebiete der Freiheit^ (1805); Die Amveisungen zum scligeii
Leben oder auch die Religioiislehre * (1806) ; Reden an die

1 [Posthumous works, edited by J. H. Fichte, 3 vols., Boun, 1834;
complete works, ed. by J. II. Fichte, 8 vols., 1845-4G. Fichte's Popular
Works, tr. by W. Smith, 4th ed., Londou, 1889. A. F. Kroeger, The
Science of Kuoidedge (translations of the GrimiUage der (jesammlen
Wissenscha/lslelire : (^rundrisa des Eif/entfiiimllchcn der Wissenschafls-
lehre ; etc. etc.), London, 1SS9; The Science of liii/hls (tr. of Natur-
rechl), id., 1889. See also the Journal of Speculative Philosophy. On
Fichte see: J. II. Lowe, Die Philosophie Fichte's, Stuttgart, 1802;
Adamson, Fichte (Blackwood's Philosophical C/n.w/c.s), London, 1881 ;
C. C. Everett, Fichte's Science of Knoirledr/e (Crifff/s's Philosophical
Classic.i), Chicago, lS8i; F. Ziiniiwr, /. G. Fichte's Rili(/ionsphilo.<tophie,
Berlin, 1878; and especially tlie fifth volume of K. Fischer's Historit
of Philosophy. — Tk.].

2 \_The Vocation of Man, translated l>y Smith, supra. — Tit.]

• \_The Nature of the Scholar, tr. by Smith, .ittpra. — Th.]

* [Tr. by Smith (o.c.) under the title. The Doctrine of Religion. Til.]

482 - MODERN PHILOSOPHY

deiUsche Nation (1808) ; etc. The German uprising against
Napoleon was largely due to his influence.

Though his thought, like tliat 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 concei^tion, or, let us rather say, this truth,
the most exalted and at the same time the most paradoxical
ever formulated by pliilosophy, is the inonism of the moral

vAll.^

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 with Spinoza, the unity of the
" two worlds." Hence his pliilosophy 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 leing but dutij ; 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 FicMe's
philosophy, we cannot accept his theory of the absolute ego, 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.

rlCHTE 483

tioii of pure Will, the S3aiibol of the moral Idea, which is
the real thing-i)i-itself, the real absolute.^ To philosophize
is to convince one's self that being is nothing.^ that clutg 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 i^riori
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 act of its creative energy {nicht Thatsache, sondern
Th a th a ndlung ^). 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 l)y 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; (3) The ego and tlie non-ego reciprocally
limit each other.

As tlie essential elements of one and the same concrete
reality, these three original acts (thesis of th(» ego, antilJirsis
of the non-ego, and sgntliesis of the ego and non-ego) form
but a single act. By affirming itself as a sul)jcct, the ego

1 Complete Works, II., p. 0.07. ^ /,/.^ \-.^ j,,, ;],sl ff.

8 hi.. l.,Ul if.

484 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

distinguishes itself from an oliject which 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. SuiJipress
the Ego, and yon suppress the world. 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 sul^ject and the thouglit object
is an inevitable illusion of theoretical reason, from which,
considering the infirmity of thought, action can and must
free us. Hence, practical activity is the real triumj^h of
reason, the affirmation of its omnipotence. True, in reality,
the will is no more successful than the understandina: in
completely conquering the resistance of matter; in the
phenomenal world, in which thought 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 Complete Works, T., pp. 83 fp. ; V., 210.

FICHTE 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 [)hilosophy.

Freedom is the highest principle, the essence of things.^
It is even superior to truth, considered from the purely
theoretical 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 object, 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 pci-ceiving things
successively/. Theoretical reason, or the understanding, is
therefore the means, the organ, which practical rt'ason em-
ploys to realize itself. Instead of being, as Kant seemed
to conceive it, a power foreign and therefore iiostile to

' Die f,'riiiiill(t>ip. (les Nalunechtu {^Complete ir</;7.>', III.),
a 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 understandhuj smiidy becomes 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, tlie world of sense and its temptations.^

Liberty, we 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, which 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 the
moral relations established between them, and these rela-
tions are the 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 tuill, and you have, word for word, the teaching of Schopen-
hauer minus his pessimism.

2 Works, Y., 210.

8 Kritlk aller Offenharung, {Works, V,).

SCHELLIXG 487

exist without an object that limits it. True, this limitation
is the work of the subject itself ; but Avhether 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 notliing but that.

Fichte's opposition to the idea of a personal God is the
criticism of Ms own system, or, at least, of the subjectivistic
form which it assumed under the influence of Kant, and of
Avhich 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 irriori construction.

Schelling, Fichte's most brilliant chsciple, turns his atten-
tion to this contradiction.

§ 65. Schelling 1

Friedi-ieh Wilhelm Joseph Schelling, born 1775, at
Leonberg, in Wiirtemberg, received the master's degree
from the University of Tlibingen, when seventeen years
old, and continued his studies at Leipsic. In 1798 he was
made professor of philosophy at Jena, where he became
ac(iuainted with Fichte and renewed liis friendship with
his fellow-countryman Hegel. In 1803 we find him at the
University of Wiirzburg; then he becomes the General
Secretary of tlie Munich Academy of Plastic Arts (1800-

1 Complete \Yorks in two series, ed. l)y his son, It vols., Stiitt,i;:irt
and Augsburg, 185Gff. [Engl, translations in the Journal of Specula-
tice Philosophy. "[ French translations : 5e/ec/ /«ns, hy C. Benard ; Sijf-
tern of Transcendental hlralism, by Griml)lot ; Bruno, by IIussou. [Cf.
Kosenkranz, ScheWnrj, Dantzic, 181:]]; Mignet, Notice hislorifjue sur la
vie et les traraux de Srhrllinf/, Paris, IS.'jH; [J. Watson, Schelling's Trans-
cendental Idealism {arififtss Philosophical Classics), C'liicagn, ISS-J. See
also Will m, o. c, vol. III.; Kuno Kisclur. o. c, vol. V!.; and H.
Ilayni, Die romanlixche Srhule, 187U. — Tk.].

488 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

1820). After serving as a professor in the Universities of
Erlangen, Municli, 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 phase,
which he calls his " negative philosophy " : Idccn zu ciner
Fhilosophie der Natur^ (1797} ; Vo7i der Weltsede (1798);
System des transcendentalen Idealismiis^ (1800); Brwno,
Oder ubcr das naturliche und gottliche Princip der Binge
(1802) ; Vorlesungen uber die Metliode des akademischen Stu-
diums (1803) ; Philosophie 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 : JJntersuchungen ilher das Wesen der mensch-
lichen Freiheit (1809); Ueher die Gottheiten von' Samothrake
(1816) ; Vorlesungen ilher die Philoso2')Me der Mythologie
und Offenharvng, 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

1 At least during his earlier stage. ^ See § 71.

8 "We mention only the most important.

* In this work he cuts loose from Fichte.

5 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 Avorkl is as much the condi-
tion siiic qua noii 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 liis 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 nuist
abandon the attempt 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 hei/ond
the ego and the non-ego^ or beyond all opposition. If tlie
absolute exists, — and how can it be otherwise I — it can
merely be the synthesis of all contraries, it can only be out-
side of and beyond all conditions of existence,^ since it is
itself the highest and fu-st condition, the source and end
of all subjective as well as of all objective existence.

Consequent!}', we can neither say that the ego produces
the non-ego (su])jective idealism), nor that the non-ego pro-
duces the ego (sensationalism) ; the ego and the 7ion-€go,
thought and being, are both derived from a higher principle
which 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 SjDinoza's i)oint of view ;
though different terms are used, we find ourselves face to
face with the infinite sid)stance and tlie parallelism of tilings
emanating from it: tliouglit (the ego) and extension (tlie
non-ego).

Philosophy is the science of the absolute in its double
manifestation : nature and mind. It is philosophy of nature
and transcendental pliilosophy. or pliilosojiliy of mind. \\\
adding the science of nature to the science of mind. Schcl

1 Cf. §§ 2o aiul :{1. 2 ]Vor/:s, first series, V(j1. X., pp. U-J-[),i.

490 MODEEN PHILOSOPHY

ling fills the great gap in Fichte's system. His method
does not essentially differ from that of liis 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 think 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 source 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 cle-
fcirture in the literal sense of the term: a 2^riuri specula-
tion continues to be the philosopliical 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 common
source, the aljsolute, and cannot contradict each other.
Nature is existinrj 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 thorough-
going parallelism between nature and thought, and they

SCHELLING 491

have a common origin: the one develops according to the
same law as the othcr.^

Thought, as Fichte, inspired by Kant, had said, is inva-
riably thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Natui-e, the image
of thought, is (1) matter or gravity (thesis : brutal allirma-
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 three stages of material evolution are not sep-
arated in nature ; no more so than the tlu-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 natui-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 liigher power. The human brain is the climax of uni-
versal organization, the last stage of organic evolution.^
J»lagnetism, 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; every^thing is hfe, movement, becoming,
perpetual oscillation between two extremes, productivity^
and product, polarity (electricity, magnetism, and intellectr
ual life), expansion and contraction, action and reaction,
struggle between two contrary and (at tlie same time)
correlative principles,* the synthesis of wliicli is the soul of

the world.^

The pliilosophy of mind or transeeiKlciilal iiliilosopby '^
has for its subject-matter tlie evolution of psychical life, the
genesis of the ego, and aims to demonstrate the parallelism
of tlie physical and moral oiders.

1 Workx, TV., pp. 105 ff. * r.ionlaiio Bruno.

• The Wille of .Scliop(;iili:ui«r. * 'I'li" ■nn\f(xo<: of Ilcnicliliis

« I'hito uii.l the Sloici. • Wurks, III., pp. 327 IT.

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, tlie
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 tiring.^ They are merged in the notion of i^ruductivity^
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 light,
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 :
history.

History unfolds itself in three ages which run parallel
with the three stages of organic evolution, corresponding
to the three kingdoms. The primitive age is characterized
by the predominance of the fatalistic element (thesis :
matter, gravity, intelligence without will) ; the second,
which was inaugurated by the Roman people and still con-
tinues, is the reaction of the active and voluntary element
against the ancient /«^?6»i ; the third, finally, which belongs
to the future, will be the synthesis of these two principles.
1 Spinoza and Fichte.

SCHELLING 493

Mind and nature will gradually be blended into a liarnio-
nious and living unity. The idea will become more and
more real ; reality will become more and more ideal. In
other words : the absolute, which 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 nuist
rise beyond reflection and its dualism ; tlirough the intellect-
ual intuition ^ we deny tlie dualism of the ideal and the real,
we afhrm that the ego and the non-ego s})iing from a higher
unity in which all antitheses are blended; we rise, in a
measure, 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, (lod on the other; the dualism continues; tin-
absolute is not a reality possessed or assimilated by the
mind. The mind does not attain or I'calize the al)soliit(',
either as intelligenci! or action, but as tlie feeling of tlie
beautiful in nature and in art.'- Ait, religion, iind revela-
tion are one and tlie same thing, suju'rior even to jihilosophy.
Philosophy co'/ir-cms God; art /.s (!od. Kiiowledgi' is the
ideal presence, art the real presence of the Deity.^

1 riat<i, I'loliiius, Si. Augu.stiiK-, iiii<I tli.' Mystics.

a Kant. ° Nco-riatoiiisin.

494 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

2. Sclielling's "positive" philosophy, inauguratecl in
1809 by the dissertation on human freedom, accentuates
the mystical element contained in the foregoing sentences.
Under the inlluence of Bohme, 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 tlian one would suppose ; this essence is monism,
a form of monism, however, which, under the influence of
Bbhme, 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 {ungruncllicher Wille).
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 makes
himself God, is eternal, and the stages thi'ough which this
evolution passes (the persons or hypostases of the Trinity)
are merged into each other; but they are cUstinguished

1 The voluntaristic conception is, it is true, abeady found in the
Abhcmdlungen zur Erlduterung dea Idealismiis der WissenscTiaftslehre,
published by Schelling in the PJdlosopJiisches Journal (1796 and 1797),
as well as in numerous passages in Fichte, whose philosophy is entirely
impregnated with it. But he clearly and consciously affirms the prin-
ciple in his treatise on liberty : Es giebt in der leizten und hochsten In-
stanz gar kein anderes Sein als WoUe7i. Wollen ist Ursein, und avf dieses
allein passen alle Pradikate desselhen : Grundlosigkcit, Eicigkeit, Unah-
Tidngigkeit von der Zeit, Selhsthejnhung. Die ganze Philosophie streht nur
dahin, diesen hochsten Ausdruck zu finden. ( Works, first series, vol. VII
p. 350.)

SCHELLING 405

from each other in the human consciousness, appearing
successively and forming- stages in the rehgious develop-
ment of humanity. The evil in the M-orld has its source,
not in God considered as a person, but in what precedes his
personality, in that wliich, in God, is not God himself, i. e.,
in the desidcrium essemli wlrich we have just recognized as
the first cause of all things, and which Schelling does not
hesitate to call the divine egoism. In God, this principle
is eternally merged in his love; in man, it becomes an
independent principle and the source of moral evil. But
however great the latter may be, it serves the purposes of
the absolute, no less than the good.

We shall not here consider the jJiilosoph^ of mytholoiji/
and revelation, which we have set forth in another work,^
and which interests the historian of religion rather than the
historian of philosophy. Our main purpose was to outline
the contents of the principal treatises written by Schelling
from 1795 to 1800, and to elucidate : (1) his masterly
critique of Ficliie' a cfjoism {Iclikhre) ; (2) his conception of
the absolute as will, the common ground of the object and
subject (Kant), of the ego and non-ego (Fichte), of thought
and extension (Spinoza); (3) his pliilosophy of nature,
which, though abandoned by positive science, produced
such naturalists as Burdach, Oken, Carus, Oei-sted, Steffens,
G. H. Schubert, and, by carrying speculation into a lield
from which ideological investigations had banislicd it, pre-
pared the way for the fusion of metaphysics and science,
which we are now endeavoring to bring about; (4) his
philosophy of liistory, a liappy prelude to Hegel's philoso-
phy of mind.

The philosophy of Schelling, the influence of whit-h
was partially counteracted and obscured l)y tlie Ilcgeliau

» Exumen crilujw: dc la j>hilosoj)hie relijleuse de Schelliug, Strasluirg.
ISUU.

49(3 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

school,! i-eally consists of two very distinct systems, which
are connected by a common principle : ^ according to the
hrst, which forms its starting-point, thought precedes being
(idealism) ; according to the second, (potential) being is
the antecedent of thought (realism). Under the influence
of the former, he speaks of intellectual intuition and con-
ceives his TranscencUntalphilosopUe, while the latter exalts
experience and the philosophy of nature. The one leads to
Heo-el and the a priori construction of the universe and of
history, the other, to Schopenhauer and contemporaneous
empiricism.

§ 66. Hegel 3

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel was born at Stuttgart,
1770, and died as a professor in the University of Berlin,

1 Nevertheless, this influence was considerable. Even omitting
the disciples properly so-called, we can detect it in most of the thinkers
mentioned in § 71. Observe that the most celebrated among contem-
poraneous German philosophers, Eduard von Hartmann, is as much a
disciple of Schelling as of Schopenhauer, and that the most original of
our French metaphysicians, Charles Secretan, is an avowed adherent
of the " positive philosophy."

2 We noticed the same dualism in Plotinus.

3 Complete works, 19 vols, and supplement, containing Hegel's
biography by K. Rosenla-anz, Berlin, 1832-44. The most important
works of Hegel have been translated into French by A. Vera, professor
at Naples, who has also written an Introduction a la philosophie de Hegel,
2d ed., Paris, 1864. Consult also: [K. Rosenkranz, Krltische Erldu-
terungen des hegelschen System!^, Konigsberg, 1840; H. JJlricl Princip
und Methode der hegelschen Philosophie, Berlin, 1843 ; E. Haym, Hegel
und seine Zeit, Berlin, 1857] ; P. Janet, Etudes snr la dialectique dans
Platan et dans Hegel, Paris, 1860; [Foucher de Careil, Hegel et Schopen-
hauer, Paris, 1862] ; E. Scherer, Hegel et Vhe'ge'lianisme (in his Melanges
d'histoire religieuse, 2d ed., Paris, 186.5) ; J. H. Stirling, The Secret oj
Hegel. The Hegelian System in Origin, Principle, Form, and Matter, 2
vols., London, 1865; [K. Kbstlin, Hegel, Tubingen, 1870; E. Cau-d,
Hegel {Blackwood's Phil. Classics'), l^onAon, 1883; J. S. Kedney, HegeVs
Esthetics (Griggs's Series), Chicago, 1885 ; G. S. Morris, Hegel's Phi-

HEGEL 497

1831. Like his friend Sclielling, he attended the theological
seminary at Tubingen. Jena, where he renewed and then
dissolved the friendship with his fellow-countryman, who
was live years his junior, Xuremberg, where he liad charge
of the Gymnasium, Heidelberg, and the Prussian capital,
mark the different stages in his academic career. We
mention the following works : (1) Phiinomenologie des
Geistes ^ (1807) ; (2) Wissenschaft clcr Loijih^ in three vol-
umes (1812-181G) ; (3) Enctjdopedie der philosopldschen
Wisscnschaftcn ^ (1817) ; (1) Crrundiinien der Philosophie
des Rechts * (1821) ; also, Vorlesungen uber die Philosophie
der Geschichie,^ Vorlesungen iiber die ^sthetik,^ Vorlesungen
iiber die Philosophie der Religion^"' Vorlesungen iiber die
Geschichte der Philosophie,^ published after liis death.

losophy of the Slate and of History {id.), 1887; W. T. Harris, Hegel' »
Logic {id.), 1890; A. Seth, Hegelianism and Personality, 2d ed., Edin-
bui-gh and Loudon, 1893 ; AV. Wallace, Prolegomena to the Study oj
HegeVs Philosophy and especially of his Logic, 2d ed., Clarendon Press,
1894. See also the works on Post-Kantiau pliilosopliy. p. 431, note 1.

1 [Translation of chs. 1, 2, and 3 in Journal of Speculative Philo-
sophy, vol. II. — Tr.]

2 [Vol. 11., tr. by W. T. Harris. See also Stirling, cited p. 490,
note 3.]

8 [W. Wallace, The Logic of Hrgrl. Translated fnnn the Encyclo-
] edia of the Philosophical Sciences, 2d ed., Oxford, ls!)2 ; same trans-
lator. Philosophy of Mind, id., 1S94. — Tr.]

* [Selections from this work translated hy J. ^f. Sterrett, under the
title. The Ethics of Hegel (in the Ethical Series), Hostun, 1893. — Tr.]

6 [Philosophy of History, tr. by J. Sibree, Bolni's Library, 18G0. —
Tk.]

8 [Introduction to the Philosophy of Art. tr. by B. Bosanqnet, Lon-
don, 1«80 ; Phil, of Art, abridged tr. l>y W. Ilastie ; tr. of second part
by W. Bryant in Journal of Speculative Philosophy, \.-\ll., XI.-XIII.
-Tr.]

7 [Part. tr. in Journal of Spec. J'hil., vols. XV.-XXI. — '1 R.]

8 [History of Philosophy, tr. by K. S. Ilaldane, 3 vols, London,
lH92 fT. ; parts Ir. in Journal of Spec. Phil., vols. IV , V., XIII., XX,
-Tb.J

498 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

According to Fichte, the thlng-in-itself (the iibsolute) is
the ego itself, which produces tlie phenomenal world by an
unconscious and involuntary creation, and then overcomes
it by a free and conscious effort. According to Sclielling,
the absolute is neither the ego nor the non-ego, but their
common root, in which the opposition between a thinking
subject and a thought object cUsappears in a perfect indif-
ference ; it is the neutral principle, anterior and superior to
all contrasts, the identity of contraries. Fichte's absolute
is one of the terms of the opposition, that of Sclielling is
the transcendent, mysterious, impenetrable source of the
same. Fichte's conception errs in reducing the absolute
to what is but one of its aspects : the absolute of Fichte
is the ego limited by a theoretically inexplicable non-ego ;
it is a prisoner, it is not really the absolute. Schelling's
absolute is a transcendent entity, which does not explain
anything, since we do not know either how or why to
deduce from it the oppositions constituting the real world.
The absolute indifference, far from being the highest and
most concrete reality, is, at bottom, nothing but an ab-
straction.

According to Hegel, the common source of the ego and
of nature does not transcend reality ; it is immanent in it.
Mind and nature are not aspects of the absolute, or a kind
of screen, behind which an indifferent and lifeless God lies
concealed, but its successive modes. The absolute is not
immova])le, l)ut active ; it is not the j)rinciple of nature and
of mind, but is itself successively nature and mind. This
succession, this process, this perpetual generation of things,
is the absolute itself. In Schelling, things proceed from the
absolute, which, for that very reason, remains outside of
them. In Hegel, the absolute is the process itself ; it does
not produce movement and life, it is movement and life.
It does not exceed the things, but is wholly in them ; nor
does it, in any wa}^, exceed the intellectual capacity of man.

HEGEL 499

If we mean by God the being transcending human reason^
then Hegel is the most atheistic of philosophers, since no
one is more emphatic in affirming the immanency and
perfect knowableness of the absolute. Spinoza himself,
the pliilosopher of immane^icy^ does not seem to go so far;
for, although he concedes that the intellect has an adequate
idea of God, he assumes that the Substance has infinite
attributes.

While modifying the Schellingian idea of the absolute,
Hegel at the same time subjects the extravagant imagina-
tion of his friend to a merciless intellectual discipline. In
order to arrive at a knowledge of the principle and logical
connection of things, we must, of course, think, but we
must think logically and methodically. Only on that con-
chtion will the result tally with that of infinite thought in
nature and history. The absolute, let us say, is movement,
process, evolution. This movement has its law and its goal.
Its law and its goal are not imposed upon the absolute from
without ; they are immanent in it, they are the absolute it-
self. Now the law which governs both human thought
and unconscious nature is reason ; the end at wliich things
aim is, likewise, reason, but self-conscious reason. Hence
the terms absolute and reason are synonymous. The abso-
lute is reason, wliich becomes personified in man, after pass-
ing tlu-ough the successive stages of inorganic and living
nature.

But reason is not, as Kant conceives it, the luiman under-
standing, a faculty of the soul, a coml)ination of principles,
forms, or rules according to which we think things. It is
the law according to which being is produced, constituted,
or unfolded ; or rather, it is botli a subjective faculty and
an oljjective reality : it is in me as the essence and norm of
my thouglit, and it is in the things as the essence and law of
their evolution. It foUows that its categoiics liave a nuich
greater siguiHcancc! than Kanlianism supposiMl, They aro

nOO MODERN PHILOSOPHY

not only modes of tJiiuJdni/ thing's; tliey are the modes of
being of the things themselves. They are not empty frames,
which receive their contents from without ; they are sub-
stantial forms, as the Middle Ages used to say ; they give
themselves their own content ; they are creative acts of
divine and human reason. They are both the forms which
mould my thought and the stages of eternal creation. ^

Hence it is of essential importance to metaphysics that
we make a more thorough study of the categories, their
nature and, above all, their connection. Kant had already
observed that the categories are not separate from and in-
different to each other, ranged alongside of each other in
our intelligence like drawers in a piece of furniture, but
intimately connected with each other. They are, in short,
nothing but transformations of one and the same funda-
mental category, the idea of being. Hence it will not suf-
fice to discuss them at random ; we must consider them in
their connection, surprise them, as it were, in the very
act of their mutual production. Kant saw the impor-
tance of such an a priori deduction of the categories, and
attempted it, but his deduction is, in reality, a merely em-
pirical enumeration (incomplete at that) of pure concepts.
We must return to Kant's notion, but we must substitute
for his table of categories a real deduction, a true genealo-
gical table.

This is the most exalted and withal the most arduous
task of metaphysics. In order to succeed in it, we must
eradicate our prejudices, all our sensible ideas, and trust to
reason alone ; we must let it unfold its own contents, and
do nothing ourselves but follow it in its development
(nach-denJcen'), or record its oracles, as it were, at the very
time of their production. To leave thought to itself, to
abandon it to its spontaneous self-activity {Selbstbewegung

1 Logic, vol. I., Introduction; Enci/clopedie der philosophischen Wis-
senschoften, Introduction.

HEGEL 501

des Beyriffs) : that is the true pliilosophical method, the
immanent or dialectical method.

The science which does all this is logic, i. e., in the sense
of Hegel, the genealogy of pure concepts. But since, in the
panlogistic hypothesis, the X6yo<i, the object of logic, is both
the principle ^^^hich thinks the things in us, and the objec-
tive cause which produces them, or the tldng-in-itself ; the
genealogy of its concepts is at the same time the genealogy
of the things, the explanation of the universe, or meta-
physics. Hegel's speculative logic is both what the school
calls logic (Dcnklehre) and what it calls metaphysics or
ontology (^Sclnslehre'). It is called spccidative, in order to
distinguish it from the former and to include the latter. It
is metaphysical, for it speaks of mechanical, chemical, and
organic processes, and likewise embraces ethics, since it
treats of the good. In this it is consistent with its panlo-
gistic premises : if reason not only conceives^ but produces
being, if it is the creator of things, if it is everything; the
science of reason (Xo^yiK-rj) must be the universal science,
which includes all the particular sciences.

It is an inconsistency ^ in Hegel, as we have shown else-
where,^ to have his Logic followed by a Philosojjhy of Nature
and a Philosophy of Mind. Logic treats of reason in ah-
stracfo, the philosophy of nature and of mind reveals it to
us as it realizes itself in the universe and in history.

I. Logic, or Genealogy of Pure Concepts

1. Quality, Quantity, Measure^

The common root of the categories or pure concepts is
the notion of helny, the emptiest and at the same time the

* The philosophy of nature and the philosophy of mind are already
implicitly contained, the former in the first and .second, the laller in
the third, part of the logic.

2 Introiluclion hintorifjnc a la philosophie h^gdliennc, Paris and Stras-
bur^,', ls(;(;, p. k;.

• Loyic, vol. I. ; Encyclopedia, §§ 81 if.

502 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

most comprehensive, the most abstract and the most real,
the most elementary and the most exalted notion. It is the
identical substance, and the material of all our notions, the
fundamental theme which runs through them all. Indeed,
quality is a mode of heing, quantity, a mode of leinij, pro-
portion, phenomenon, action, modes of hcing. All our
concepts express modes of being, and hence are merely
transformations of the idea of being.

But how shall we explain these transformations ? How
does leing, which is everything, become an/jthiiig else ? In
virtue of what principle or inner force is it modihed ? The
contradiction which it contains is this principle or force.
Being is the most universal notion, and for that very rea-
son, also the poorest and emptiest. To be white, to be
black, to be extended, to be good, is to be something : being
without any determination is non-being. Hence, being
pure and simjjle is equal to non-being. It is both itself
ana its opposite. If it were only itself, it would remain
immovable and barren ; if it were only nothing, it would
be equal to zero, and, in this case, perfectly powerless and
fruitless. Because it is loth it hecomes something, a differ-
ent thing, everything. The contradiction contained in be-
ing is resolved in the notion of hecoming^ or development.
Becoming is both being and non-being (that which will be).
The two contraries which engender it, being and nothing,
are contained and reconciled in it. A ncAV contradiction re-
sults, which is resolved by a new synthesis, and so on, until
we reach the absolute idea.

This, then, is the moving principle in the Hegelian logic :
a contradiction is reconciled in a unity, reappears in a new
form, only to disappear and reappear again, until it is re-
solved in the final unity. By repudiating the irrinciplc of
contradiction of Aristotle and Leibniz, according to which a
thino- cannot both be and not be, it takes sides with the
Sophists, without, however, falling into their scepticism.

HEGEL 603

The contradiction does not, according to Hegel, exist in
thouglit alone, but also in the things themselves ; existence
itself is contradictory. When, with the realistic and dual-
istic systems, we separate thought from its object and con-
cede to each an independent existence, the antinomies of
thought necessarily become a source of discouragement and
scepticism. However, when we regard nature as the self-
development of thought, and thought as nature becoming
conscious of itself, when we recognize that the world, being
thought objectified, contains nothing but thought ; the con-
tradiction in which the philosopher is involved ceases to
be an obstacle to the understanding of things, and appears
to him as their very essence reflecting itself in the antino-
mies of his thought.

Now that we know the moving principle and the unchan-
ging form of the Hegelian dialectics, we need not follow out
the unvarying and monotonous mechanism of its deductions.
It will be sufficient to emphasize the most salient points of
his metaphysics as set forth in the Logic.

The contradiction found in the idea of being is resolved
in the notion of becoming. Being becomes, i. e., determines
itself, limits itself, defines itself. But determinate or finite
being continues ad infimtum ; the finite is infinite ; nothing
compels thought to assign limits to it. Here we have a new
contradiction, which is resolved in the notion of individ-
2iaUtg (l)eing-for-self, Filrsichsein). The individual is the
unity of the finite and the infinite. To consider these two
terms as excluding each other is to forget tliat the infinite,
excluded by tlie iinite, would be limited by the finite, or
A\'(nild l)e finite itself. If the infinite begins where the finite
ends, and if the finite begins where the infinite ends, so that
the infinite is beyond the finite, or the finite on this ddc of
the infinite, it would not really be the infinite. The infinite
is the essence of the finite, and tlic finite is the manifestation
of th(i infinite, the infinite existing. Infinity deterniineits

504 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

itself, limits itself, sets boundaries to itself ; in a word, it
becomes tlie finite by the very fact that it gives itself exist-
ence. Existence is possible only under certain conditions,
in certain modes, or within certain limits. Existence is
self-limitation. Existence is finite being.^ Finite being,
the individual, the atom, is infinity existing in a certain
manner, limited infinity : quality becomes quantity.

Quantity is extensive quantity (^lumler^ or intensive
quantity {degree). Number, which is quantity broken up,
so to speak, and degree, which is concentrated quantity,
are reconciled in the notion of measure and iiro])ortion.

Measure is being becoming essence ( Wescn').

2. Essence and Appearance. Suhstantialitij and Causality.
Reciprocity ^

Essence is being, unfolded or expanded so that its aspects
reflect each other. Hence the categories which follow
come in pairs : essence and appearance, force and expres-
sion, matter and form, substance and accident, cause and
effect, ground and consequence, action and reaction. This
reflection-into-itself {Befieonon in ihm selbst), or if we prefer,
this reflex, is the 'phenomenon. Essence and phenomenon
(appearance) are inseparable ; indeed, the phenomenon is
the very essence of essence ; or, in other terms, it is as
essential to essence to appear ((paiveaOac), to life to manifest
itself, to the principle to produce its consequences, as it is
essential to the phenomenon to imply an essence. Phe-
nomenon without essence is mere show, or mere appearance.

The essential is opposed by the accidental or contingent,
which in turn becomes essential in the sense that the idea
of the essential needs it in order to be produced. No cate-
gory, we see, is independent of its neighbors. Although
excluding each other, the categories need and mutually
engender each other.

1 Cf. § 50. '^ Logic, vol. II. ; Encycl, §§ 112 £f.

HEGEL 505

Essence expresses itself in a series of phenomena, and
constitutes the thing or ohjeat, which is a totality of charac-
teristics connected by one and the same essence. Consid-
ered in their relation to the object, these characteristics or
phenomena are called ■properties. Just as there is no essence
without a phenomenon, there is no thing apart from its
properties. A thing is what its properties are ; nothing else.
Se[)arate the thing from its essential properties, and noth-
ing is left ; its qualities are the thing itself.

As the generative principle of the phenomenon, the
essence is the force or agent of which the phenomenon is
the act or expression. Since a force is nothing but a total-
ity of phenomena considered in their identity, and its ex-
pression merely the acting force itself, in so far as it exerts
itself, it is a mere tautology to explain an act by an agent
{ciir opium facit dormire ? — q^uia., 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, production, 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 reulitij ( WirUichl-eit).
Nothing is active except what is real, and nothing is real
except what is active.^ Absolute rest does not exist.^

1 It must not be forgotten that Ilegel identifies logic and meta-
physics.

' Since " reason alone is real," Ilegel concludes that what is real is
rational (p. 52 1).

' ndtna x.oip('i «"* oibiv fUpd (§ 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 unqualifi-
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 Wesen der Natur ist die Aeiisscr-
lichkeit).

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

1 [Ins Innere der Natur dringt kein erschaffner Geist :
Zu giiisklich, wenn sie noch die aussre Schale weist.

Haller, Die menscMichen Tuycnden. — 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 progrcssus 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 hecausc 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 jire-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 wliich 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 (also-
lutuni).

This reaction of tlie effect upon tlie caUvSe (reciprocal
action^ Wechsehvirkxviuj) eidiances tlie im]:)ortance of the
effect, and gives it the cliaracter of freedom, which it lacks
ill the system of Spinoza. Accor(Uiig to tliis ])liih)Sopher,
the effect necessarily dupentls upon the pre-existing cause j

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 part of the causal chain ; it resides in the
sum-total of the particular 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 tlu-ough 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, Objective, and Absolute
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. This 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 Logic, vol. III. ; EncycL, §§ 160 ff.

■•^ Hegel regards Begriff as synonymous with Inhegriff, whole,
totality.

HEGEL 609

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
subjective totality or notion, as tinkcrsalit//, i^articularity,
and individualiti/. 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 syllogmn. 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 lietween 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
ov final cause^ but does not exist in realit}'. 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 ivhole, or objects. Tlie general,
the particular, and the individual are successively objec-
tified in mechanism (simple external juxtaposition of
ol)jects), in chemism (mutual })en3trati(m of objects), and
in organism (totality-iniity).

IIowcvL']-. a notion wliicli is no loii<_;ci' a notion, tliouL;lit
which has bcconu- Ixxly, is again contiadictoiv . .Inst 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 the whole of
things, is not made to remain a stranger to consciousness,
but to be thought or understood. The subjective notion
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 standpoint, is called Truth, and from the prac-
tical standpoint, the Good : tliis 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 the process.
Quality, quantity, measure ; essence and phenomenon, sub-
stantiality and causality, reciprocal action ; subjectivity,
objectivity, al^solute : these are the serial stages of being.

Knowing this principle, this process, and these stages,
we know a p^^iori the order followed in the creations of
nature (expanded reason) and of mind (concentrated and
comprehended reason).

II. Philosophy 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 tlie following
resume ot the Philosophy of Nature, the changes (which were not very
important) to which it was siihjected by the school.

HEGEL 511

Like beinr/, the first notion in logic, space exists and
tloes not exist ; matter is something and nothing. This
contradiction is the 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 fu'st
step taken by nature on the path of individuation. The
individualizing tendency, which runs through 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 (tmiversum)
of the world.

Primitive and formless matter, the common source of the
heavenly bodies, corresponds to what logic calls indetermi-
nate being. The distribution 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 tlie laws which govern it
are, as 3-et, merel}- mechanical laws ; the relations wliich
the stars sustain to each otlier are summed up in tlie law of
attraction. Hence the science wliich considers this primary
phase of being, asd'onomy, deals witli the (hmensioiis of
tlie stars, tlicir distances, their external relations, ratlier
tlim with their essential (|ualities, their composition, and
tlieir pliysiolog}^

2. CJiemism

A second cvolutidii leads to llie (|ualilal i\'e different ia lion
of iiiattei-. 'I""li(' oiigiiial state of iiidifrereiice is followed
jjy a vaiiety of agencicjs (liglit, electricity, heat), l)y the

512 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

reciprocal action of elements, by the inner process of oppo-
sition and reconciliation, separation and combination, polar-
ity and union, wliich 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 that ultimate transformation of
" substance " into " subject," of matter into mind, of being
into consciousness, of necessity into freedom, which is the
thial opoal of creation.

Nothing in the original flow of things resembles individ-
uality ; nothing is stal^le, 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 chemicul
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 machina 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 would 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 earth itself is a kind of organism, a crude outline
of the masterpiece which nature tends to realize. In this
sense, Schelling and his school have a right to speak of the
sold of the celestial bodies, of the life of the earth. This
life has its vicissitudes, its revolutions, and its historj-, the

HEGEL 513

subject-matter of geology, and though it gradually dimin-
ishes, it does so merely to become the inexhaustible soui'ce
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 wliich 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 jncmbers, i. e., servants of the central unity.
It asserts its individuality by constant assimilation, respir-
ation, and locomotion. It is endowed with sensibility, nay,
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 cr3'stallizations ; so the
vegetable kingdom passes into the animal kingdom in the
zoophj-te. 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 llie 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 mind, i. e., lumianity.

III. Philosophy of Mind

1, The Suhjcctive 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
principle. Tlie mind, like nature, is subject to tlie 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
Avhich 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 lienceforth 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 Oljective Mind, or SocieUj ^

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, the
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 ff.

HEGEL 515

negation of right). But though denied b}^ the individual,
right remains right, the will of all. Temporaril}- 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
hxw 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 gloi-ification. 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 affirmation 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. Nov/ the individual may, 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 sul)jective
mind and the objective mind.

This antagonism must disappear, tliis impersonal will,
which is called right, justice, must become the personal
will of the individual, the inner law of his acts ; legality
must become morality; or, rather, to use a Hegelian
phrase, the objective mind must become a subject.

iMorality is the legality of the lieart, the law whicli is
identified with tlie will of the individual. In tlic moral

1 It was a3 a consistent Ilejjjciliaii tli;it the l;ili' M. Vdra, in his
capacity a.s a depute, (l(;f(.'n<l.-<l c:ii>it:il ininislinnint.

516 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

sphere the code becomes moral law, conscience, the idea of
the good. Morality inquires not only into the act as such,
but into the spirit wliich 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
liigher : 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 Btate. Since the State cannot exist
without the family, 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 stand])oint 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 honor 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 wliich it does not hesitate

HEGEL 617

to sacrifice private interests. The egoism and particu-
larism wliicli prevail in the community are here counter-
balanced and corrected. The State is the kingdom of
the idea, of the universal, of the objective mind, the goal,
of wliich 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 dictatorsliips, because they
sacrificed the idea to the individual, the family, and the
caste. In the Greek Tyranny and Ri)man Ciesarism sover-
eis-n 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
but 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 will. That is, according to
our philosopher, the true meaning of the motto of Louis
XIV. : I'^tat ccst moi.

Though Hegel condemns political liberalism, he favors
national liberalism and llie principle of nationality. From
the Utilitarian standpoint of civil society, there may be, at
best, a union or confederation of hetorogcueous elements.
Switzerland is an example of such a federation. But State
means nationality, and nationality means nnity of language,
religion, customs, and ideas. The State; wliich 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 onl\' then, is

518 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

opposition, or even rebellion, legitiniiite. A political com-
munity is impossible without a communion of ideas.

Here, liowever, 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 inchvidual thought ; the dialectics of
history is the development of the 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, tlrey 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 Ijchind th(;se nations and their armies are the
principles they represent ; beliind the rampaits and the
batteries ideas antagonize each otliei'.

War, like the death penalty, has chinigcd in asj)ecl. AVith
the adv'ance of militiuy ait and civilization its ciiU'lties
are lessened. But in a tcnipcnMl and inodilicd lorni, it
will continue as (tm^ of the imhspensahle means of political
progress. It is tlic lioast of oiii' times that we see it in
its true light, and no longer ]-egard it as the j)assing satis-
faction of the caprice of a sovereign, l)ut as an inevitable

520 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

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 triumi)hed proves this : its triumph is the con-
demnation of the principle represented by the vanquished j
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 irae, which nothing earthly can escape.

There is, in every epoch, a people in whom mind is more
completely incarnated than 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 tlirone
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 wliieli the substance of the State
has nothing to do, but integral parts 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 Cesarean reaction forces the rebellious in-
dividual into obedience ; the habitable world is conquered ;
the most diverse nations are tlirown 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 Cluistian and parliamentary monarchy, as
the best example of which Hegel regards the English con-
stitution.^

3. The Absolute Mind 2

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 the most perfect State cannot realize this.
Whether it be a repu])lic, a constitutional or an absolute
monarchy, aii 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 cannot unconditionaUij subject itself
to anythin;! but mind. Not iinding in ])olilical life the

1 We ought to afM tliat wliat iiiflueiicfd II('t,'('rs jutlujiiioiit was not
the parliamentarism, Imt thi; conservatism of the Enj^lish constitution.
2 Enctjrlopedia, §§ O;'):] ff. See also Hegel's lectures on ^Esthetics,
the Philoso/ilit/ of Reli(/ion, and the Illstory nf P/iilosophy.

522 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

supreme satisfaction which it seeks, it rises beyond it into
tlie free reahus of art^ religion, and science.

Does that mean that the mind, in order to realize ite
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 witliout 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 develoj^s
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 contiimes 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 pedestal 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
vrith 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 edifice crumbles to pieces.
The higher stories of tliis 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 tlu-eefold ideal, the supreme independence to which
he aspires : he becomes ahsolute mind.

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 divinus.

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,
wliich develops its forces and l>rings 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 tlie linite and the iniinite
in Jesus Christ, and thus anticipates the highest develoi)-
ment of the mind : pinlosophi/.

Pliilosophy realizes wliat art and tlic Cliristiaii dogma
foreshadow. Art and religious faith spring from fccHiig
and imagination; science is the triumph of pure reason,
the apotheosis of mind. By understanding tlie world, tlio

524 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

mind frees itself from it. Nature and its forces, the State
and its institutions, wliieli 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 heaven 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 sculpture. The art of the
sculptor has this in common ^yith 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 Ijod}-, but the plane surface.
Depth is reduced to a mere appearance, produced b}^ 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
cliaracteristic, architecture, sculpture, and painting, together
form objective art. Hence, they are inseparable ; they are
combined in a thousand different ways. Tliese first three
external, visible, material forms of art are superseded by
subjective^ invisible, immaterial art, or music.

]\rnsic is a spiritualistic art, the art which can, with
tlirilling 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. Tliere can be notliing extreme in \)vy-
feet art; it is tlie synthesis of all contraries, the harmoni-
ous union of the world of nnisic and the woild of objective
art. This ail of arts is poetri/.

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, wliich 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 were
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, sculptfli'es, 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 (^GaUungsunterschiede').

Corresponding to objective art, represented by architec-
ture, sculpture, and painting, we have ejnc poetry, wliich
is to poetry what tlie 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 child,
indetinitely long, like the first years of life.

Zgj^c 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 luunan
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 paraljles. 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, l)ctrays its predilection for the
inlinile ami iiiconun('nsural)le.

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 completely penetrates
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 word, 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 powers,
finally relapses into that contempt for form and that exces-
sive spiritualism which is both the characteristic feature
and the failing 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 ]\Iosaism. 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
hom picturi'mj the invisible, it does not hinder us from pic-
turing it to ourselves ; it forbids the outward image, but it
does not forbid the imagination itself and the ideas with
which it peoples the mind. Far from it. The fact is,
religion is essentially representation {Vbrstelhong). 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 below, God is up above, so high and so far that he
needs the ministry of angels in order to communicate with
the world. Religion is dualistic, 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 religious 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, however, which is synonymous with
acosmism and may 1)0 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 diifering from Indian religions, shows
the same cliaracteristics. The God of the Orient beai-s the
same relation to man as the princes of the Orient ])ear to
their subjcfts. He is tlie Creatoi-, and men are his crca-

530 MODERN PHlLOSOrHY

tures ; 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 inhnite
as such cannot tolerate an independent existence by its
side ; Siva, Moloch, and Saturn devour their own children,
and where this does not happen, 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 tinitude and form, nature and the
things of the earth, as Asia is religious. Its religion is as
serene as its skies, as racUant 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 the riddle. The God whom
the Greek adores under the form of Zeus, Apollo, Athene,
Apln-odite, 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 polj^theistic cultus.

The Orient professes the religion of the infinite and

HEGEL 531

abstract ; Greece worships at the shrine of the finite.
These two extremes of religion are reconciled in Christian-
it}', in which the spii'it of the Orient and the Gi'eek genius
are united. For the Hindoo, God is everything, man noth-
ing ; for the Greek, God is nothing or very little, man,
everything ; for the Christian, the important thing is
neither God considered in the abstract, the Father, nor
man in the abstract, but the concrete unity 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 him ; 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-]\Ian. The
distance between the Christian heaven and the earth, be-
tween the God of the Gospel and humanity, is not insuper-
able ; nay, tlii^ God comes down from his throne, enters the
sphere 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 tliem. It is the synthesis of all religions, the absolute
religion.

3. Tlie Christian dogma is truth in the form of repre-
sentation (^Vorstellung'). The three stages in the evolution
of immanent reason, idea, nature, and mind, ])ecome three
persons. Tlu; union of the infinite and finite in human
consciousness, i, e., a process embracing the whole of uni-
versal liistory, is regarded as an evoit that luippened once
for all times in Palestine, eighteen lumdred years ago. In
tin's fidin the <l(>gma is an inadiMiuate expression of tlu;
truth wliich it contains. Moreover, it is imposed as an
ext(.'rnal authority, whereas the miiul, whicli is free in
essence, can only be realized as free. In order to reaeli llie
climax of its evolution, it has simply to divest the religious
doctiine of its irprcseiitative form, ami lo give it tlie rational

532 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

form. This advance is made by philosophy. The Gospel
and true philosophy have the same content. But the con-
tainer is not the same ; with the Cluistian it is the imarj-
ination, with the pliilosopher, 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.i It attains to its fullest expansion in absolute idealism,
i. e., in the system which we have just outlined.

What truth is there in tliis 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 sesthetics, — 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 wliich characterizes it, and

1 History of Philosophy, I. 43.

HEGEL 533

which was foreign to the eighteenth centiiiy. David
Stkauss and his Lcben Jesu, Bauk, the celebrated liistorian
of primitive Cliiistianity and the founder of the historical
school of Tiibingen, Michelet, Rosenkranz, Erdjiann,
Peantl, Zeller, Kuxo Fischer, the brilliant interpreters
of ancient and modern thought, come from Hegel.^ The
conception that philosopliies 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^ 2>rocess, 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 Xorth-
ern countries, where it was taught by Mourad 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 {maniere) of V. Cousin
(§ 71), and, above all, the idealism of Vacherot {La me'lapJnjsique et la
science, Paris, 1852 ; 2d ed., 1802 ; La science el la conscience, Paris, 1872,
etc.). Vacherot, who 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 mc'laphysique el la science, 2d ed.,
vol. m.. Conclusion. [Representatives of the Hegelian movement
in England: J. II. Stirling (see p. 490, note .3), T. II. Green {Works,
3 vols., London and New York, 1885-88; Prolegomena to Ethics,
1883), F. II. Bradley (Ethical Studies, 1870; Principles of Logic,
1883; Appearance ami liealitij, 1891), J. t'aird (Introduction to the
Philosophy of Religion, 1880), E. Caird (see p. 131, n.2), li. nosun.piet
(Logic, 2 vols., 1888), W. Wallace (see p. 197, n. 3), etc. ; in America,
W. T. Harris, Editor of the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, fouiKh-d
1807. — Tk.]

534 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

What discredited Hegelianism and pliilosopliy itself -~
for there was a time when the two terms were emph^yed
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 nolhing
hut that; whence he concludes that the idea, or, as tlie
School says, the form^ is also the content, the matter^ of
things. When he assumes that the ideal tvorld of science
can be deduced from reason alone, it is because, according
to him, the real ivorld, the world of leings, is derived from
reason and reason alone. Now the absolute, or at least —
since the absolute is unknowable as such — the primary
phenomenon (das UriJlidnomoi) is not thought, intelli-
gence, reason, but will.^ Thought is a mode of the cre-

1 See §§ 68 and 71.

HERBART 535

ative activity of things ; it is not their iirinciple} It
follows that the Iinowlcd(jc of tilings does not come from
pure thought, but from thought supported and governed
by experience.

§ 67. Herbart^

Kant, the master, protested against the absolute idealism
of his " false disciples," and opposed to it his ideo-realism,
which distinguishes 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 priori 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, w^hich 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 tlie Christian dogma itself, which Hogcl pi'ofesses
to translate into philosophical language, the \6yos is created and is not
the " Father."

^ [Briefer philosophical writings, etc., ]>uljlished l)y (i. Ifarton-
stein, :i vols., Leipsie, 1812; complete works, eil. l>y G- Ilartenstein,
12 vols., Leipsie, 1850 ft". ; complete works, ed. by K. Ktdirbach, Lan-
gensalza, 18S2 ff. ; pedagogical works, ed. l)y O. AVillmann, 2 vols.,
2d ed., Leipsie, 1877. Cf. G. Ilartenstein, Die Probleme und Grnnd-
lehren der (dlrjeineinen MelapJnjslL; Li'ipsic, 18:)(j; .1. Kaftan, Solleii
und Sein (a critique of Ilcrhart), Leipsie, 1872; .1. Capesius, Die
Metaph'jsik Ilerbart's, Leipsie, 1878; Th. Uihot, Fai psr/rholoffie nlle-
mande cuntemporaine, I'aris, 1879; Kngl. tr. by IJaldwin, 1880. — Tii.J

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-
rich Herbart (1776-1841), professor at Konigsberg and
Gbttingen, followed the master. They occupied a position
between Hegel, whose star sank in 1830, and Locke, whose
empiricism, which had been temporarily checked by the
idealism of the Restoratioii, 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 : Allgemeine Metaphysik ^ and Fsychologie als
Wissenschaft, neu gegrlindet auf Erfahruny, Metaphysihy
und Matliematik?' What especially characterizes them is
their systematic opposition to the principles, method, and
conclusions of Hegel. Things are not merely our tlioughts,
as idealism holds ; they exist really and independently of the
reason which thinks them (realism in the modern sense).
Hence, the problem of philosophy 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 the 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 VI. Cf. AVillm, op. cit., vol. IV. [His Lehr-
buck der Psychologie has been translated by M. K. Smith, 1891.]

* Lehrbuch zur Einleitung in die Philosophie. vol. I., ch. 2.

* For example, the ideas of cause, space, and the ego.

HERBART 637

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 de force un-
heard of in the liistory 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 d'etre ;
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
m 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 beyond douht that they a2)pear 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 tliC}' are what we think
they are, that they exist as they are thouglit (yEncsidenuis,
Sextus), that they are iii 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 multiple 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 affirm
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 which 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,
Avholly 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 ; but it differs
1 Einleitung in die Philosophie, pp. 194-202; Metaphysik, p. 8.

HEEBART 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 reed beings or realities (Beale)^ 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. Tlie realities of Herbart, therefore, closely
resemble Leibniz's monads ; but they differ from them in
an essential respect : the " monads " are complex unities
endowed witli many properties, having their inner states,
their moditications, 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 Eecde), then, is not what the senses show
us ; for the objects perceived by the senses have many
properties. What follows ? Why, the sensible object
(iron, silver, oxygen) contains as many realities as it has
distinct properties.

Thus the difhculty involved in the notion of inherence
is resolved. This idea is contradictory only when applied
to the real being (Kant's thing-iii-itself) ; it is not so when
applied to the plienomonal being, or the thing presented
by the senses. The latter is always an intcyndion of real
beings in greater or smaller numbers, never a unitary real
being.

The ideas of causality and cliange are explained in the
same way. The relation of causality cannot obtain either
between two real beings (external causality), or between
a real being and its supposed cliaracteristics (immanent
causality) ; for each real being exists ahsolutcly (by itself),
while immanent causality (for example, iron considered
as the cause nf lis 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 (^Selhsterhaltung^ .^

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 wliich 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

1 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 sub-
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 miity which is not a unity. The ego has not
many functions, but one single function: it tends to pre-
serve itself in its indestructible originality. That is its
only function, but it varies under the influence of the
surroimdings ; its only faculty manifests itself in a number
of apparently different faculties, according as the soul is
solicited by similar, different, 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 om- 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 ol)ject, a relation. If the
soul were isolated from all other beings, it would not
tliink, feel, or will. Feeling is a thought arrested by other
more energ(;tic thoughts ; but this, in turn, may overcome
the latter, and become thought wlu-n tlie ego is solicited
by other o])jects. Similarly, will is notliing l»ut tliought
(Spinoza) ; moral freedom is the permanent domination o/

542 MODEEN PHILOSOPHY

reflected thouglit over feeling, i. e., a matter of equilib-
rium. Psychical life is a mechanism, the laws of which
are the same as those of statics and dynamics. Psychology,
properly understood, is a true mechanism, 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 attemj^t, — could not but make
him the centre of a large school.^ Hegel's attitude towards

1 Works, VII., pp. 129 if.

2 Outside of the lierbartian school proper (Drobisch, Hartenstein,
Lazarus, Steiuthal, Striimpell, Thilo, Waitz, Ziinmerniaun, etc.), the
exact philosophy especially influenced the psychology of Friedrich
Eduard Beneke (1798-1854, extraordinary professor at Berlin) and the
metaphysics of Hermann Lotze (1817-1881, professor at Gcittingen and
latterly at Berlin), author of MedizinhchePsycholociie, 18."')2, 1896 ; Micro-
co.wnis, 3 vols., 18.56-64; [Engl. tr. by Hamilton and Jones, Edin. and
N.Y., 1884]; Logik, 1874 ; [Engl. tr. by B. Bosanquet, Oxford, 1884];
Metaphysik; [Engl. tr. by B. Bosanquet, 2 vols., Oxford, 1884. Lotze's
Outlines, by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1885 ff. On Lotze see E. v. Hartmann,
Lotze's Philosophie, Berlin, 1888 ; O. Caspari, H. Lotze, etc., 2d ed., Bres-
lau, 1894 ; H. Jones, The PhUosophy of Lotze, New 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 Herbart et la psychologic ethnographiqne. [Other disciples of
Herbart are : F. Exner, G. A. Lindner (Lehrbuch der empmschen Psy-
chologic, 6th ed., Vienna, 1886, Engl, tr. by C. De Garmo, Boston,
1889) ; J. Nahlowsky {Das Gcfuhlsleben, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1884) ;
W. Volkmann (Lehrbuch der Psychologic, 4th ed., Cothen, 1894).
Organs of the school : Zeilschrifl fur exacte Philosophie, founded 1861,

HERBART 543

the pioneers of modem 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 philosophy of Herbart, which undertook to free
thought from all contradictions, AA-as itself full of the most
glaring contrasts. AVhile Herbart's ontology declares real
being to be simple and inextended, his psychology is based
on the opposite h\i^othesis. His theodicy, which is per-
fectly conservative, and his teleology, which is wholly spir-
itualistic, seriously clash with his paradoxical theory of the
multiple absolute, wliich logically culminates in polytheism,
and his mechanism, which is closel}' akin to the material-
istic theories. Moreover, his metaphysics contains the
strangest contradictions. Reed being excludes the plurality
of properties, change, and movement, i. e., in brief, life,
and, ultimately, reality. Real reality., life, activity, is ex-
cluded from the sphere of beings, and Herbart's Rcahn.,
instead of being realities, are lifeless abstractions, scholastic
entities, and nothing more. Furthermore, his monadology
shares all the disadvantages of the Leibnizian theory, which
serves as his model. Like the " pulverized universe " with
which he presents us, his pliilosoph}' possesses neither the
unity nor the homogeneity which we have a right to demand
from a doctrine claiming to be a metapliysic. 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 Schopeuhaiu-r, whose })lii-
losophy, a happy mean between speculation and positive
knowledge, exercises a preponderating iiinuciuc on uKxU'ru
(ierman thought.

now ('(litt'd by O. Fliifjel ; Zrilfchrifl fdr ]'SlJ,rrpxi/rhi)lofjIc itnit Sprnch
wissenschaft, founded IS.jO, edited by l^azurus and Steinthal. — -I'rO

544 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

§ 68. Schopenhauer!

Arthue Schopenhauer, the son of a banker in
Danzic, and Johanna Schopenhauer, an authoress formerly
well-known in Germany, was born 1788, He studied at
Cxottingen (1809-1811) and Berlin (1811-1813), taught phi-
losophy at the latter institution as a Privatdocent 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, Ueber die vier-
fache Wurzel des Satzes vom zureichenden Grunde ; ^ (2) Die
Wdt als With und Vorstellung ; ^ (3) Ucher den Willen in
dcr Natur ; ^ (4) Die leiden GruiulproUeme der EtliiliJ' He
heard the lectures of Schulze ^ at Gcittingen and of Fichte

1 [Complete Works, ed. by J. Frauenstiidt, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1873-74 ;
2d ed., 1877 ; ed. by E. Grisebach, Leipsic, 1890 ff. ; ed. by R. Sleiner,
13 vols., Leipsic, 1894. Cf. J. Frauenstiidt, Briefe uber die Sch-'sche
Philosophies Leipsic, 1854 ; R. Seydel, Schopenhauer's System, Leipsic,
1857 ; Foucher de Careil, Hec/el et Schopenhauer, Paris, 1862 ; R. 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, Pessimistn,
2d ed., London, 1891 ; K. Fischer, Arthur Schopenhauer, Heidelberg,
1893. — Tr.]

2 1813 ; 2d ed., 1847 ; 3d ed., 1864. [Transl. (Fourfold Boot 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.]

8 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., 18.54 ; 3d ed., 1867. [On the Will in Na-
ture, Bohn's Library, see above.]

6 \_The Tivo Fundamental Problems of Ethics.'] Frankfort, 1841;
2d ed., 1860. [Schopenhauer's Essays, selected and translated by Bax,
Bohn's Library. See also T. B. Saunders's translations. — Tk.]

6 See § 63,

SCHOPENHAUER 545

in Berlin, and devoted himself, particularly, to the study of
Kant, Plato, and Buddhism, so far as tills 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 unci Vorstellung^ opens
with a glowing tribute to criticism. In asserting, with
Kant, that the world is my idea {die Welt ist vieine Vorstel-
lung), he does not deny the reality of the world j he distin-
guishes between the world 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 my perception, my idea, the product of my 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 object
of sensibility and the understanding, or, in a word, as a
phenomenon, it depends on the s^ihject 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-4tsclf. ICant acknowl-
edges the existence of the thing-in-itself ; but wliathe gives
with one hand he takes back with tlie other. He denies to
the understanding the right to apply to this thing any of
its categories, maintains that reason is incapal)le of knowing
it, and, consequently, regards the plicnomenal world, i. e.,
in the last analysis, the thinking subject, as alone know-
al)lc; for the itlicndinriioii ism// thought, nothing but ?/i^

1 Die W<U 'ii-< Wille und Vorstelluiuj, vol. I., pj). H il.
35

546 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

tliouo-lit. It is true, the subject canuot get beyond itself,
identify itself with what it is not, assimilate things 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 ohjects
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 ancdofjy of all beings, which dogmatism afifirmed 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 think
in a certain degree ; but experience does not confirm this
hypothesis. 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,

1 Die Welt ah Wille unci Vovslellung, vol. IL, chap. L., pp. 736 ff.

SCHOPENHAUER 547

and experience strikingly j)roves, that 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 ohjectifies itself, gives itself a body 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
irritability, the m3'sterious 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 Avhen it is excited by too much light ; this is the
effect of irritability, a rejlex act ; but it is also voluntarily
contracted when we will to observe a very small object.
The power of conscious will is immense. We may 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 sueli is one.

AVhether it is conscious or not, the will acts in us witliout
interruption. The ])u(\\ and tlie intellect -grow tired and
need rest; the will alone is indefatigable; it acts even
during sleep and causes dreams. It acts in tlie Ijody not
only during its formation, ])ut exists prior to the body.

1 Die Well nls WUle uml VurslellHng, vol. I., § IS, 1 IS ff. ; H., cliiip.
XX.,-J77ff.

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 wills
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 fust sight, as though their mode of life, their habits,
dejjended 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 tlie 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 j^upils, 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 649

hide from its enemies, assumes the appearance of a tree-
trunk covered with. moss. As a rule, especially in the
desert, the animal assumes the color wliich least distin-
guishes it froju 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 will-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, intelli(jence^ 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 alwaj'S manifest and alwaj-s of
a definite character.

The will plays the same part, although this is not so ap-
parent, in the vegetable kingdom. Here, too, e\'ery thing
is strivi/ig, desire, unconscious a/ppetitlon. 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 roundaljout 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 tlie light. Climbing
plants seek supports and make visil>le efforts to reach and
catch hold of them. Hence, here, as in tlie animal king-
dom, everything is reduced to will, to that elementary will
wliieh we call iiritability. There is no essential difference
between irrital)ility and the faculty of In-iiig (k'tcniiiiicd by
motives; for the motive regularly produces an iniliition
whicli sets the will in motion. Tlic [tlant turns to the sun

^ See the critiim*' of tliis tlu'ory in § 'i!*-

2 Die W>:lt ah WlHt nml Vursldhuuj, vol. I., § 27, Y\k 17!) ff.

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 doo- will be faithful, the cat treacherous, and the fox
cunnino-. We can predict with certainty that a cactus ivill
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
weio-ht or gravitation. Liquid matter obeys the same law
in following the descending x)lane. 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.i 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 image ?

SCHOPENHAUER 651

of all things is instinctively proclaimed in a nnniber of
characteristic expressions. Thus we say: the tire will not
burn ; the water wants to get out ; le fer est avide d' ox y gene.
These are not mere figures of speech, but must be taken
literally.i

Hence, that which the Eleatics call the tV koI 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 individual 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 i^rinciinum individuationis. 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 t;ypes 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
hccome and never are. Tlie inferior Ideas, or elementary
stages of the manifestation of will are: weight, impenetra-
bility, solidity, fluidity, elasticity, electricity, magnetism,
chemism. The higher stages appi-ai- in tlie organic world,
and the series is completed in man. liiasniuch as the dif-
ferent stages of tlie voluntary phenomenon contend with
each other for the matter, space, and time wliich they need,
the struf/rjlc fur existence arises wliidi characterizes nature.
Each organism represents (Ik- idea of wliicli it is tlie copy,

» Ueher d'u Willni in der Xalur, :J(1 lmI.. \>\k ilC iT. (LiiHj'iisllL).

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 t3rpes 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
though 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 ah Wille unci Vorstellung, I., §§ 30 ff., pp. 199 ff.

SCHOPENHAUER 553

series of murders, robberies, intrigues, and lies, and if j^ou
know one page of it, you know them all. The alleged hu-
man vu-tues, the love of labor, perseverance, temperance,
frugalit)-, are nothing but refined egoism, splendida vitia.
There is no virtue worthy of the name except j^ity 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. Laugliter and tears
are peculiarly human phenomena.

Since being is synonymous with suffering, positive hap-
piness is an eternal Utopia. Only negative \\'ell-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 nerjation of the
vnll is the common essence of the Gosj)el and of Buddhism.^
Both Christianity and Buddha hold that man enters the
Avorld as a sinner ; he is the product of two blind passions ;
for marriage, in tlie oi)inion of St. Paul, is merely a conces-
sion to those whose will is not strong enough to coniiucr
itself. The propagation of the species is an evil, — the
feeling of shame proves it, — and it would be better uot to
be born than to deseeud into iliis woiM df liisi aiul pain :
such is, according to Seliopenliauei', the meaning of the
dogma of original sin and of the miraeulous conception of
the Savior. 'J'o recognize through the agency of the intel-
lect that everything in our willing is vanity, is what Chiis-

* Uehtr (Jus Fundament dcr Mural, § 18.

2 Die We.U ah W'dle und Vomteltunf/, L, 310 IT. (§§ 53 iT.).

554 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

lect that everything in onr 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 will (regenera-
tion, conversion, sanctification). Jesus is the type of man
who understands his vocation. He sacrifices his body,
which is the alSrmation of his will ; he stifles the wiU-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 teiichings 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 snm 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 Avhich may transcend them. 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 ??o/ io renounce existence ; it is,
therefore, in the eyes of our philosopher, the most "immoral' of
peoples.

2 Vie Welt als Wille und Vorstelluntj, II., chap. L.

SCHOPENHAUER 665

essence of the world. It is, in this respect, purely Kantian.
Consequently, it leaves many questions unanswered, par-
ticularly the question. Why are the facts of experience
just what the}' are and not different ? All such questions,
liowever, 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 tliis law.
The dogmatic metaphysicians and transcendentalists who
keep on asking ivhy and whence^ forget that why means hy
ivhat cause, that there are no causes and effects outside of
time-succession, and that, therefore, the v:]iy 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 befoi-e 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, Spinoza, and Schelling,
I accept the %v koI ttuv, the doctrine of the unitary essence
of all beings ; only I am careful not to add : irdp ^eo'f, and
so I differ essentially from the pantlieists. Tiie de6<; of tlie
pantheists is an ./;, an uukiiown (luantity by means of
which tliey aim to explain tiie known ; my " w ill," on
the other liand, is a fact of ex[)eiicncc ; I proceed, as all
true science must proceed, from llic known to the nn-
known. My method is empirical, analytic, inductive; that
of the pantheistic metai)liysicians, synthetie and deductive.
Pantheism is synonymous with optimism ; in my .system,

1 'I'lii-ri- is no (lilTcn-iicu here bfitwemi Sclic)|Mii|i;iui'r .iml niiitc-
riulbm.

556 MODERN THILOSOPHY

however, the evil in 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 meta-
physics^ and Ijecause 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. Secrdtan {Revue philosophique, 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 term.

SCHOPENHAUER 557

and Hegel, from whom, in spite of its protests, it derives
the monistic idea, and whose chief wrong really consisted
in having been professors of philosoph3\

The most original among Schopenhauer's disciples,
Eduard vox Hartmaxx,! has made the attempt, in his
Fhilosophi/ of the Unconscious, to reconcile Schopenhauer
and Hegel, by adding to the will a second principle, which
serves as its guide : idea {die Vorstelhtng'). 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-

^ Born at Berlin, 1812. Besides the Philosophie des Unleivussten
(1869 ; numerous editions) ; [Engl. tr. by E. C. Coupland, London,
188G], Hartinann has published : Kritische Griuulleyuny des transcen-
dentnlen Realismus (1875) ; Phanomenologie des sitdichen Bewusslseins
(1879) ; Das religiose Bewusstsein der Menschheit, etc. (1881) ; etc.
[Cf. J. Volkelt, Das Unhewusste und der Pessimismus , Berlin, 1873 ;
H. Yaihinger, Hartmnnn, Diihring und Lnnge, Fserlohn, 1870; R. Kober,
Das philosopJiische Sijstejii E. v. II. 's, Breslau, 1881; J. Sully, Pessi-
mism, ch. v. — Tr.] Other prominent disciplfs: J. Frauenstiidt
(181:5-1878), (Briefe iiber die Sch.'sche Philosophic, Leipsic, ISSi;
Neue Briefe, etc., Leipsic, 1876, etc. Frauenstiidt is not a servile imi-
tator ; he criticises and corrects the master in several important
respects. Not only does he distinguisli between the higher or Iniman
will and the inferior will of the animal, thereby opposing Schopen-
hauer, who identifies them, but also substitutes for liis pessimism a
system which aims to reconcile pessimism and optimism) ; Bahnsen
(Beilrdge ziir Characternhgie, Leipsic, 1867; etc.); I\Iainliinder (P/a-
losophie der Erlosung, Berlin, 1870, 2d ed., 1870) ; Deussen {Elemente
der Melaphysik, Aix-larChapolle, 1877); [2d ed., Berlin, 1890; Engl,
tr. by C. M. Duff, Xew York, 1894; Uichard Wagner, 181:5-188:5, (he
great composer (Coljected writings, 9 vols., 2d ed., 1887-8S) ; Fricd-
ricli Xietzschc, l>orn 18 H, {Uuzeilgf-mdsse Belrarhtuugen, Leipsic, 187:5-
1876; Meitschliches, Allzurneu.tchlichrs, 2 vols., 2d ed., 1880; Aho
sprnch Znrathustra, Cliemnilz, 188:5-1881; Jenscits vnn f!ut und Hose,
Leipsic, 1880 ; Znr Genealogie der Moral, 1887. Work.s ed. I.y A. Tille;
translations by T. ('(jiumoii, 1890). — Tit.]

558 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

gence. As the curative or catagniatic power in nature, it
heals wounds and fractures, like the most skilful physician.
Hence it is iiitcllir/ent, but unconscious ; it knows without
knowing that it knows.

Tliis distinction between intelligence and inner apper-
ception is not new ; we find it in Leibniz and in Schelling.
But Hartmann was the first to formulate it with 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 ideas, which serve as stages in the
evolution of the will. Besides, Hartmann's idea cannot
hinder the absolute from ivilling, i.e., from realizing itself
in a world in which the evil necessarily and infinitely
exceeds the good, and to which, though it be the best
possible world, nothingness would be preferable. All that
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, the 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, in
Schopenhauer's opinion, the evil is irreparable : the world
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 withoid beginning or end, 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.^ Onlvi ^liis redemption is
not fiiialy for we have no assurance that the latent state
to which the will returns is final, that it will not be
re-aroused, that there will not be a new world, that is, a
new hell. Chance has produced the present uni\-erse ; the
same chance may, in the future, produce an indetinite 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 loill, 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-
diably 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
{der Wille zum Lchoi), Ijut the will which strives for the
good, by using life as a means, or, should occasion demand,
by sacrificing life (der Wille zwni Guten mittcls dcs Lcbcns).
The good, for pessimism, consists in unmalciwj what the
will has made, and, finally, — for the very fact of willing
is folly,2 — 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.

^ Hartmann calls this his evobitinnislic optimisin in ojtposilion to
Schopenhauer's absolute pessimism; i. e., he makes the historical
evolution culminate at least iu the negative happiness of notliingness,
while Schopenhauer recognizes in reality neither history, nor evolution,
nor progress of any sort.

'^ In n-ality God himself committed the "folly" of willing to exist,
and, in this sense, his folly is " wiser tiuin the wisdom of men " (St.
Va^uX): felix culpa (Augustine).

560 MODEKN 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, Orir/in of
Species, and Descent of Man, see especially, David Strauss, Der alte
undneue Glauhe, 1872 [seep. 562] ; E. Haeckel, Natiaiiche Schojfimgs-
geschichte, Berlin, 1868 ff. ; [Engl, tr., Natural History of Creation, 1875] ;
Oscar Schmidt, Descendenzlekre und Darwinismus, Leipsic, 187o ; [Engl.
tr., The Doctrine of Descent and Darwinism {International Scientific
Series)']; L. Noire. Der monistische Gedanke, Leipsic, 1875; Aphoris-
men zur nionistischen Philosophie, 1877. [See also : T. Huxley, Man's
Place in Nature, London, 1863; same author, Lectures on the Origin of
Species, New York, 18.92 ; H. Spencer, Principles of Biology, London,
1863-67; E. Haeckel, Antliropogenie, Leipsic, 1874 ft'.; 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 Darwin: I., The Darwinian Theory,
London, 1892 ; II., Post-Darwinian Questions (edited by Lloyd INIor-
gan), 1895 ; O. Hamann, Entwickelungslehre und Darwinismus, Jena,
1892 ; R. Schmid, Die Darwinsclie Theorie und ihre Stellung zur
Philosophie, Religion, und Moral, Stuttgart, 1870 ; J. G. Schurman, The
Ethical Import of Darwinism, New York, 1887 ; T. Huxley, Evolution
and Ethics, London, 1893; A. Sclileicher, Die darwinsche Theorie und
die SprachoissenschaftfWeimiu; 1865; 3d ed., 1873. — Tu.]

DARWIN AND CONTEMPOEARY MONISM 561

pendently of the intellect. 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. The Rcalci of Horbart, 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 Hcalcn, and is not native to them : by themselves they
are as unintelligent as atomism's centres of force. Accord-
ing to Herbart as well 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 Avill, the immortality of the soul,
and free-will, i. e., the essential doctrines of spiritualism.
The Hegelian concei)tion of things and the materialistic
philosophy are fundamentally tin? same, howi'ver opposite
they may be in form: both substitute naturalism and mon-
ism for theism and dualism. Hegelians, abandon and)igu-
ous terms ! Call things by their right names ! Do not
designate the sul)stance which exists prior to intelligence
idea., but matter ! What distinguishes us from tiie materi-
alists is, ultimately, the method we employ. Now, ours is
manifestly false, theire is evidently the true one ; hence,
let us unite with them ! So sj)oke the lil)eral Hegelians,
particularly Ludwk; Feueruacii,^ renowmul for his works

' Son of tin; jurist, Aiiseliii FcihtIimcIi ; ls()l-1872 ; coiiipli-ti- works,
10 vols., Iy<'ii)sic, 1811! fT. [Cf. K. (iiiiii, A. Ft-ttcrhnrh,'! vols , Lcipsic,
1871.] ;iG

562 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

on Das Wcsen des Christenthums'^ and Das JFescn der Be-
ligion,^ who was afterwards joined by David Strauss.^

Thus materialism,* reinforced by the descendants of
Heo-elianism and popularized by such talented writers as
Jacob Moleschott,^ Ludwig Buchneii,*^ Carl Vogt,^
and Ernst Haeckel,^ became in German}^ 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 [The Essence of Christianity'}, Leipsic, ISil. " Antliropology is
the secret of tJieology. God is man worshipping himseM. The Trinity
is the human family deified.''

2 Leipsic, 1815.

8 1808-1874:. Author of Das Leben Jesu, Tubingen, 1835-3G ; [TAe
Life of Christ, tr. by George Eliot, London, 1846 ff.] ; Der alte und der
neue Glaube, 1872 ff. ; [Engl. tr. by M. Blind, London, 1873. Collected
works, ed. by E. Zeller, 12 vols., Bonn, 187G-78. Cf. A. Hausrath,
David Friedrich Sti-auss und die Theologie seiner Zeit, 2 voLs., Heidel-
berg, 1876-1878. — Tr.]

* [See P. Janet, Le materialisme contemporain, 6th ed., Paris, 1893;
Engl. tr. by G. Masson, London, 1866. — Tr.]

6 [1822-1893.] Der Kreislauf des Lebens, Mainz, 18.52 ; 4th ed., 1 862 ;
Die Einheit des Lebens, Giessen, 1864:.

6 [Born 1824.] Kraft und Stoff, Frankfort, 1855 ; 16tli ed., 1888;
[Engl, tr., Force and Matter, by Collingwood, 4th ed., London, 1884];
Natur und Geist, 1857 ff. ; Seeks Vorlesnngen iiber die Darwinsche Theorie,
Leipsic, 1868 ff. ; [Die Stellung des Menschen, etc., Leipsic, 1869 f . ;
Engl, tr., Man in the Past, Present, and Future, by W. F. Dallas, Lon-
don, 1872.]

7 [1817-1895.] Phusiohrfsche Briefe, Stuttgart, 1845-47; Kohler-
glaube und Wissenschaft, Giessen, 1854 ; Vorlesnngen iiher den Menschen,
Giessen, 1863.

8 [Born 1834.] Generelle MorphoJngie der Organismen, Berlin, 1806
ff.; Naturliche Schopfungsgeschichte, Berlin, 1868, 8th ed., 1889 ; [Engl,
tr.. Natural History of Creation, New York, 1892; Anthropogenie, Leip-
sic, 1874 ff. ; Engl. tr.. The Evolution of Man, Xew York, 1895; Ge-
sammelte populare Vortrdge, 1878 ff, ; Engl, tr., Popular I^ectures, 1888.
-Tr]

DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 563

Its alliance with political and religious radicalism gained
for it tlie sympathies of the public, and it receives support
from a number of recent discoveries and scientific theories.
It appeals to the transformistic theory of Lamauck^ 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 tlie advance of chemical
synthesis, against the phantom of the vital jjrinciple ; ^ to
the theory of the equivalence and transformation of forces ^
and electrological discoveries,^ against the hypothesis of a

1 [1744-1829.] Philosophie zooloyique, Paris, 1809 ; [new ed. by C.
Martins, Paris, 187o].

2 [18U9-18S2.] On tlie Origin of Species hij 7neanx of Natural Selec-
tion, London, 1859 if. ; \_The Descent of Man, id., 1871; T/ie Expression
of the Emotions in Man and Animals, id., 1872 ; etc. See Francis Dar-
Avin, Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, London, 1887. Bililiography in
J. W. Spengel, Die Darwinsche Theorie, 2d ed., Berlin, 1872. Cf. § G9,
notel. — Tr.].

^ Huxley, Man's I'lace in Natxire, London, 18G3; Vogt, Vorlesungen
iiber den Menschen, seine Stellung in der Schopfiing itnd in der Geschichte
der Erde, French translation by Moulinie, 18G5.

* R. Virchow [born 1821] Der alte und neue Vitalismus (Archir fiir
pathologische Anatomic und Physiologic, TX., 1-2).

5 Sir Humphry Davy [1778-1829]. Faraday [1791-1867]. J. R.
Mayer [181 1-1878, Piemerkungcn iiher die Krafte der nnhchhlen Natur,
1842. His troatisf'S were collected under the title, Pic Mrchanik der
Wdrme, 2d ed., Stuttgart, 1874. Cf. E. Diihring, R. Mn;/er, der Galilei
des 19. Jahrhunderts, Chemnitz, 1880. — Tr.]. H. Hehnholtz [1821-
IHQo'], Ueher die Erhaltung der Kraft, Berlin, 1847; Ueher die Wech-
selwirkung der Naturkrafte, Kbnig.slu^rg, 1854; both in Vortrdge und
Reden, 3d ed., Braunschweig, 1884; Engl, tr.. Popular Lectures, New
York, 1881]. (l. A. Hirii, Esr/uisse de la theorie inecanii/ue de la rhaleur,
1804. John Tyiidall [1820-1893], Heat considered as a Mode of Mo
tion, London, 1803; Mailer and Force, id., ISCG. Combes [1811 -1872],
Exposition de la theorie mecanique de la chalcur. Dupny, Transforma-
tion des forces. W. f! rove [born 1811], On the Correlation of Phi/sic(d
Forces, London, 1810; 0th ed., 1871.

" E. Dii IJois-Rcyuifdid [born 181s], Untcrsuchungt n uher thierische
Elektriciiat, 2 vols., Berlin, 184.S-84.

564 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

separate force for the explanation of thought ; to the geo-
loo-ical theory of gradual evolutions and imperceptible
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] without final causes?^
Darwinism provides materialism with a satisfactoiy 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.* AccorcUng 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 Linnaeus and Cuvier) ;
according to the other, whose principles were formulated

1 C. Lyell [1707-1875], Principles of Genhgy, London, 1830; 11th
ed., 1872.'

^ Georges Cnvier [1769-1882], Di:^conr.f stir les revolutions de la
surface du globe (Tntroduction to BecliercTies sur les ossements fossiles).

* Haeckel, Natural History of Creation, Eng. tr., pp. 390 ff.

4 See § 60.

DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 565

by Diderot and Robinet, species are merely varieties, more
pronounced and more stable than the forms which we com-
monly call varieties, and descend from each other by gen-
eration (transforniism, or evolutionism). The theory of
transformation opposes to the dogma of the immutability
of species the fact of their variability. The parent form
and its offspring alwaj's resemble each other; they are
never identical. That is to say, there are differences
betAveen them. Moreover, — and that is important, — these
differences may be transmitted by heredity. But how and
by what causes are these endless variations and progres-
sive metamorphoses produced ? How and by wliat causes
could the tiger and the gazelle, the mouse and the elephant,
spring from one and the same source ? According to La-
marck and Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, this is explained by the
influence of the environment upon the organism, and by
the gradual adaptation of the organism to its conditions of
existence. This explanation, which sufficed for a certain
number of cases, but left a still larger number unexplained,
was completed by Charles Darwin (1809-1882), the most
celebrated naturalist of our century, in liis monumental
work : On the Origin of Species hij Means of Natural Selec-
tion} The transformation of organized beings and tlie
diversity of their specific types is, according to Darwin,
brouglit about by the natural competition between them,
Ijy the struggle for life. This struggle for existence results
in a selection wholly similar to the artificial selection by
means of which the horticultui'ist and breeder obtain
their varieties. What, for instance, does the breeder of
pigeons do ? ^ Tie observes tliat one of liis pigeons has
one more tail-feather than tlie (jthei's. He finds a female
possessing the same ])eculiarity, and tliis j):iir produce off-
spring liaving two, three, or four \\\u\\\ tail-feathers than

» Sie p. .003, note L».

'•* Orii/iii of Species, Otli t'(l., p]). II IT.

566 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the original stock : the fantail. By a similar process he
obtains the pouter, the Jacobin, the tumbler, the carrier,
and other varieties. The same principles are followed by
horticulturists and breeders of horses, dogs, and cattle :
by selecting their pairs and seeds according to certain
qualities, these artists succeed in infinitely modifying the
types. They realize their purpose by methodical selection
and with a distinct object in view ; nature obtains the
same results (modification of types) unintentionally, by
means of the competition or struggle for existence. As
a result of this struggle, a selection, or kind of choice, is
made among beings ; some, i. e., the strongest, or the most
clever, or such as, for some reason or other, are best fitted
to survive, are reproduced \_survival of the fittest^ ; others
perish. The latter are the outcasts, the former the elect of
nature, the select of the competition, which is not only the
principle of all social progress, but also the first cause of
all development in nature. Let us imagine, says Strauss,
commenting on Darwin,^ a herd of cattle, at a time
when these animals had no horns. The herd is attacked
by wild beasts. It is evident that in the ensuing struggle
for existence, those which have the strongest heads will
stand a better chance of surviving than the others, and it is
also evident that if tliere be in the attacked herd an indi-
vidual possessing rudimentary horns, it will have more
chances of survival than the rest of the herd. Great num-
bers of the latter will perish ; the favored animal, however,
will escape ; it will produce offspring and (what is im-
portant in this connection) transmit to its descendants the
peculiarity which saved its life and enabled it to be repro-
duced: its rudimentary weapons of defence. Its descend-
ants will possess the same peculiar characteristic in greater
or less degree. The better equipped they are in this re-
gard, the greater will be their chances of conquering in the

^ Der alte und neue Glaube, 2d ed., pp. 190 fE.

DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 567

renewed struggle for existence, and of transmitting their
organs of protection to the succeeding generations. And
thus the organ, wliich, in the fu'st animal possessino- it,
was nothing but a freak of nature, and which, without the
struggle for existence, would have disappeared with its
owner, without leaving a trace in the bovine species, goes
on developing and perfecting itself from generation to gen-
eration. What was at lii-st a purely individual character-
istic becomes a generic characteristic, in consec^uence of
the never-ending struggle for existence and the accumu-
lated effects of the constantly renewed process of selection.

In the foregoing example, the selection is determined by
a positive advantage, a surplus, but there are cases in which
a defect may have the same effect, in which an imperfection
may be an advantage and a cause of selection. Let us sup-
pose, with Haeckel,! that a swarm of winged insects on an
oceanic island are overtaken by a storm, blown to sea, and
destroyed. Let us also suppose that one of these insects is
wingless; it will not be able to follow the swarm in their
flight, and to this verv defect it will owe its safet}'. It -\^•ill
survive its winged congeners and transmit its defect to
some of its offspring, wliich will, consequently, jjossess
the same advantage (that of being "selected") ; and so on,
until, from selection to selection, the comijlcte absence
of winofs comes to constitute the characteristic f>f the
species.2 In this case, undoubtedly, the process of uatural
selection is really a retrogi-ession, for liere we have to doid
with a deformity, with a gradual weakening; but evolution
in nature is retrogressive as well as progressive.

Selection by means of the struggle for life sulliciently
explains cveiy teleologieal characteristic in organisms. It
even explains the formation of tlie sense-organs, the eye and

' Anlunil Ilialory of Credllon, pp. '-VJ.! ff.

* [.Si'(? Darwin's explanation <if tlio win^flrss coiulition of tin' M:i-
deira beetle, Oritjin of Species, cli, V., pp. 1(U ff. — Tit.]

568 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the ear, these wonderful works of art, which have always
been appealed to as the most conclusive evidences of final-
istic and creationistic doctrines. The first eye produced in
the evolution of the animal kingdom was, like the first horn
of the bovine genus, a mere rudimentary organ, differing as
much from the eyes of higher species now existing as the
fin of the fish differs from the arm of man. But in so far
as it refracted light and aroused a luminous sensation, how-
ever weak, it gave the individual endowed with it an im-
mense advantage in the struggle for existence, and made
him the " elect of nature." His blind congeners necessarily
disappeared, leaving it to him to preserve the species and
to transmit this visual organ, in a more pronounced form
perhaps, to the descendants. The same causes continued to
act, and to accumulate their effects, from generation to
generation, until, after thousands of centuries of progressive
evolution, the eye at last attained to its present perfection,
surpassing the most consummate products of art and the
wisest combinations of intelligence ; and it attained to it, not
through intelligent intervention, but by natural selection.^
It was, as we have said, owing to this mechanical expla-
nation of finality — an explanation which, in Darwin, does
not exclude the idea of creation — that contemporary mate-
rialism at once enthusiastically adopted the theory of nat-
ural selection. What we attribute to "the wisdom of
Providence," or to " the kindness of Mother Nature," ap-
peared, in the Darwinian hypothesis, as the product of the
natural competition of beings and the selection resulting
therefrom. Animals that can live in warm climates with-
out any covering are protected by warm fur in Northern
regions ; most of those inhabiting the desert resemble their
surroundings in color, and are thereby concealed from their
enemies ; finally, the existence of every living being is, in
a certain measure, " assured." But there is no charitable
1 Origin of Species, chap^. VL, pp. 139 ff.

DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 569

design nor supernatural and providential arrangement in
all this. The animals of the North do not have fur in order
to protect them from the cold ; they do not suffer from the
cold, because they have fur. And they have fur, because their
progenitors, whom chance clothed with a thicker skin, were,
on that account, better fitted to carry on the struggle for
existence than their less favored congeners ; and were able,
in consequence of this natural selection, to reproduce them-
selves and to transmit their peculiarities to their offspring,
whereas the others perished, and their type disappeared.
The same may be said of the animals of the desert, and of
all animals and plants enjoying some advantage apparently
due to fuial causes.-^

The principle of selection applies not only to anatomy
and physiology, but also to animal psychology. The in-
stincts of spiders, ants, bees, beavers, and birds, which,
even according to Hartmann's belief, can only be explained
by means of a deus-ex machina (the unconscious), are, in
Darwin's opinion, nothing but inherited habits, which have
become a second nature through the effects of the struggle
for life and natural selection. That which is innate in the
present generation was not so in the original ancestors, and
the wonderful art manifested in the instincts of certain ani-
mals is merely the result of an evolution lasting countless
ages, and of a gradual perfection, beginning with the very
earliest origin of these species. Our intellectual habits
originated in the same way. The ideas which spiritualism
considers as innate, and which, according to Kant, belong
to the veiy constitution of the intelligence, are, undoubt-
edly, a part of our present mental organization, but they
weie not native to our first progenitors. Tlie latter acquired
tliem by experience; they were traiisiiiittcd to us, as intel-
lectual habits or dispositions, by heredity aided by selection,
and thus eventually became innate.

* Haeckel, Natural Ilistory of Creation, Locluro XL

570 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

An inevitable corollary of the principle of transforma-
tion and selection is the simian origin of man. Darwin
advances it in liis second main work : The Descent of Man
(1871). Man is the descendant of a variety of apes, more
favored than the rest. The false pride which hinders us
from accepting this view arises from the fact that the ape
has a comical demeanor which gives him the appearance
of a cretin^ an idiot, a caricature of a man. We should
not feel so, if it were held that we descended from the
lion or the rose-bush. Strange to say, we do not even
experience this feeling when we read the Biblical story,
according to which our species sprang from a clod of earth :
a still more humiliating origin, considering the enormous
distance between a clod of earth and an organized being,
and an organized being as advanced as the ape. The objec-
tion is made that a Csesar, a Kant, a Goethe, could not have
descended from an animal, — that there is an insuperable
distance between them and the ape. But this objection
falls to the ground when we take into account, on the one
hand, the intermediate links between the anthropoid ape
and Caesar (Papuans, New Zealanders, Caffirs, etc.), and,
on the other, the immense period of time wdiich nature,
i. e., the struggle for existence and selection, needed to
effect the evolution from the man-ape to Caesar and Goethe.
It is true, the six thousand years, which, according to the
Bible, is the age of the world, would not have sufficed.
But the palseontological discoveries of our century (lacus-
trine deposits, flint tools, cave-dwellers, the kjokken-mod-
dings on the Danish coasts, etc.) unquestionably prove that
the human race is much older, and that even Egyptian
civilization, which is prodigiously ancient, is relatively
modern} Infinitely short steps and infinitely long periods :
these, says Strauss,^ are the two keys which open the gates
hitherto accessible to miracle only. Well ! Does not
1 Strauss, Der alte und neue Glaube, p. 202. ' Id.

DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY ^[ONIS^I 671

Chi'istianity teach that God became man ? Then why can-
not an animal become man ? The non-Christian religions do
not believe it to be impossible, as the doctrine of the trans-
migration of souls, taught by ancient Egypt, Brahmanism,
and Buddhism, shows. In truth, there is no gulf between
man and the animal. We cannot deny the latter sensi-
bility, memory, and intelligence. The facts which })rove
it would fill volumes. The moral sense is not foreign to
animals ; it may, as Strauss adds,^ be aroused in the dog by
the whip , but can we not say the same for many men ?
The animal has feelings of motherly love, attachment, and
devotion. It differs from us in degree only ; its " soul "
is to oiu-s what the bud is to the flower and the fruit.

We shall not dwell upon these results of contemporary
materialistic thought, which add nothing essentially new
to the teachings of the eighteenth century. What charac-
terizes modern materialism is not its mechanical explana-
tion of the world, nor its absolute negation of linal causes,

— in this respect as v.^ell as in all the others, materialistic
principles have not changed since the times of Democritus,

— but solely the fact that, thanks to Darwin, it found, as
its adherents claim, a ready answer to the constantly reit-
erated and never refuted objection of the teleologists :
Every work adapted to an end presup[)oses a workman, an
intelligence, a design, and shall not the most admiral)le
product of all, the most perfect camera obscura, the human
eye, presuppose one?

In other respects, contemporary materialism agrees not
only witli the materialism of the eighteenth century and
Greek materialism, but also with the essential doctrines of
German idealism and Spinozistic pantheism : the Universe
or tlie All-One substituted for God, tlie consubstantiality
of l)eings, absolute determinism. In order to emphasize
tliis agreement, the German materialism of our days calls
itself vwnisin.

1 Dtr (il(€ und neue Glaube, p. 207.

572 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

The difference existing between materialistic monism
and the idealistic monism of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel,
may be expressed as follows : The former emphatically
denies all finality ; whereas the latter, inspired by Kant's
Critique of Judgment^ recognizes in nature, if not the
designs of a transcendent Creator, at least an immanent
finality. The Idea of Hegel is the highest end of nature
realizing itself by means of an evolution that is both phys-
ical and logical : phj^sical, in so far as it is unconscious ;
logical, in so far as it excludes chance. Hence, it is really
identical with what Schelling and, above all, Schopenhauer,
call by its true name : Will.

Now, we may ask ourselves the question : Does not the
Darwinian principle, which materialism invokes with such
absolute confidence, corroborate, rather than overturn, the
hypothesis of immanent teleology ? Is it really true that
the struggle for existence is a first cause and exclusively
mechanical ? Does not the struggle for life, in turn, pre-
suppose Schopenhauer's ivill-to-live, will or effort., without
which, according to the profound remark of Leibniz, there
can he no substance ? ^ Does it not, therefore, presuppose
an anterior, superior, and immaterial cause ? What can the
formula : struggle for existence, mean, except : struggle
in order to exist? Now, that carries us right into tele-
ology. Besides, we cannot deny that the entire Darwin-
ian terminology is derived from the teleological theory :
the terms, selection., clioice, evidently introduce an intellect-
ual element into nature. ^ These are mere images, it is

1 Haeckel himself says : In the last analysis, the impulses which
determine (hedingen, condition) the stiaiggle and its diverse forms, are
merely those of self-preservation (Selbstei-haltung). See his Natural
History of Creation, pp. 282 ff. Here we no longer have materialism,
but pure voluntarism.

^ [See Darwin's answer to such objections. Origin of Species, 6th
ed., chap. IV., pp. 58 ff. — Tr.]

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 573

said, or figures of speech. Very well. But does not the
very impossibility of avoiding them prove the impossibility
of explaining nature by pure mechanism ?

§ 70. Positivism and Neo-Criticism

Not all materialists, it must be added, are equally posi-
tive and dogmatic. Contrary to the opinion of one Lowen-
tbal,^ who accuses even the author of Force and Matter of
moderantism, there are, in Germany, France, and England,
a considerable number of thinkers, moralists and physicists,
historians and physiologists, who sympathize with materi-
alism more than with an}' other phikisophy, but remain,
either through conviction or policy, within the limits as-
signed to speculation by the criticism of Locke, Hume,
and Kant. In France, tliis party, wliich is decidedly
hostile to metaphj'sics and determined to replace it by
science^ has, for the last thirty j^ears, been gathering around
the standard of Comte. It is known as the positivistic
school.

AuGUSTE Comte was born at ]\Iontpellier in 1789. He
entered the Ecole jiolytechiiquc^ then became a tutor and
examiner in this school, which, under the Restoration, con-
tinued the traditions of the eighteenth century. His Cours
cle jjhilosojjJiie positive^ lAaced him among the oiigiual tliink-

1 Dr. VA. Lciwoiithiil, Si/stetn utul Gcschic/ile des Xiitunilisiitu.^, \A'\\y-
sic, 18(51; .Jill ed., 1808.

2 G vols., Paris, 18:59-12; 2il ed., with a Pre/are by Littre, Paris,
1864; [English version freely translated and condensed by Harriet
Martineau, London, 185.3. Lat<^r writintjs: Si/slhne dr politique posi-
tive, 4 vols., Paris, 1851-51 (Engl, tr., 187.5-77) ; Calcchisnie positirisle,
18.53 (Engl. tr. by Congreve, 18.58, 2d ed., 1883). See Littre, Comir el
la pJtilosopltie positiriste, Paris, 1803; 2d ed., 1801; J. S. Mill. Cnnte
and J'osilivi.sm, ^Million, ISCh) ; 3ded., 18S2; 15. I'linjer, Ikr l'i>siliiis-
muK, etc. {Jahrhildier f. Protestantische Theolngie), 1878; E. Caird, T/ie
Siiriiil Phil'tSDphi/ and Hilif/loit of ('oiiitr, (Iliisgow, 1885; II. (Inibfr,

574 MODERN rHiLOSOPHY

ers of our age. Emil Littr^ ^ in France, and John Stuart
Mill ^ in England, were the most distinguished of his fol-
lowers. He died at Paris in 1857.

Positivism is not a mere negation, — otherwise it could
not have formed a school, — it is a system whose central
teaching, the theory of the history of thought, is the realistic
counterpart, so to speak, of HegeFs philosophy of mind.

According to Comte, the human mind successively passes
through three stages of thinking or philosophizing : the
theological stage, wliich is elementary and represents the
period of childhood, the metaphysical stage, and the positive
stage.

From the theological or anthropomorphic point of view,
cosmical phenomena are governed, not by immutal^le laws,
but by wills like ours. This primitive form of thought has

Comte und tier Positivistnus, 1890; same author, De'r Posllivismus vom
Tode Comte^s, etc., 1S91 ; J. Watson, Comte, Mill, and Spencer, New
York, 1895. — Tr.].

^ 1801-1881. Analyse raisonne'e du cowx de philosophie positive de
M. A. Comte, Paris, 1845: Application de la philosophie positive au
gouvernement des societes, 1849 ; Conservation, revolution et positivisme,
1852; Paroles de philosophie positive, 1859; Auguste Comte et la philo-
sophie positive, 1863 ; Fragments de philosophie positive et de sociolngie
contemporaine, 1876. Littre is also the founder of the Revue positive
(1867-83). His Dictionnaire de la langue franqaise constitutes his chief
claim to glory.

2 John Stuart Mill and Littre, however, wholly disavow Auguste
Comte's socialistic Utopias, which proceed from Saint-Simon. To
these positivists, properly so-called, we must add, as distinguished rep-
resentatives of the positivistic movement, two gifted mathematicians :
Sophie Germain [1776-1831], who anticipates the system of Comte in
her Considerations generates sur Vetat des sciences et des lettres aiix diffd-
rentes e'pof/nes de lew culture [posthumous work, published by L'Herbette,
Paris, 1833], and M. Cournot, author of an Essai sur les fondements de
nos connaissances et sur les caracteres de la critique philosophique (1851),
and of a Traile de Venchalnement des ide'es fondamentales dans les sciences
et dans I'histoire (1861), the conclusions of which are obviously the same
as Comte's.

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 575

three stages. First, the objects themselves are regarded
as animated, living, intelligent (fetichism). On the next
stage, invisible beings are imagined, each of them gov-
erning a certain gronp of objects or events (polytheism).
In a higher form, at last, all these particular divinities
are merged into the conception of one God, who created
the world and now governs it either directly or through
the medium of supernatural agents of the second order
(monotheism).

Metapliiisical thought no longer explains phenomena by
conscious wills, but by abstractions considered as real
beings. Nature is no longer governed 1)y an anthrf)p()mor-
phous God, but by a force, a power, a principle. We repu-
diate the divinities with which the ancients peopled nature,
only to replace them by souls, mysterious essences. We
pretend to explain facts by the tendencies of nature, which we
regard as a kind of intelligent rather than impersonal being.
We invest it with a tendency towards perfection, a /lorror of
a vacuum, a curative virtue (vis viedicatrix), occult qualities.
The metaphysical view errs in that it takes abstractions for
realities.

The dominion of metaphysics, more or less influenced by
the theological spirit, lasted until tlie end of the Middle
Ages, when the controversy between the nominalists and
the realists, the first struggle of modern tliought to rid itself
of verbal abstractions, inaugurated the positive epoch (I)''S-
cartes, Bacon, Hobbes, Galileo, Gassendi, Newton). I'iVer
since the advent of this period, the positive explanation of
facts is gradually superseding the theological and metaphys-
ical explanations, in proportion as the advance of scientilic
research brings to liglit an increasing number of invarial)ie
laws.

Like pliilos()])liy in general, eueli science in particular
passes tlirougli tiieso thnn; consecutive stages: the theo
logical state, the metaphysical state, and the positive stato.

576 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Now, the various brandies of human knowledge have devel-
oped with unequal rapidity, and cannot simultaneously pass
from one phase to the other. The order of succession in
which they enter upon the metaphysical stage and the posi-
tive stage is indicated by the logical order in which they
follow each other. Thus, the search for the order in wliich
the special sciences pass from one phase of thought to the
other leads Comte to construct his remarkable classification
of the sciences.

In surveying the different sciences he observes that they
are naturally arranged in an order of increasing complexity
and diminishing generality: so that each one depends on the
truths of all the sciences ivhich precede it, plus stick truths as
properly helong to it.

The science of number {arithmetic and algehra) deals
with the most simple, and, at the same time, most general
phenomena ; the truths which it formulates hold for all
things, and dej)end only upon themselves. We can study
it independently of all other sciences ; hence it is the fun-
damental science, and, in a certain sense, the first philoso-
phy. Then comes geometry, Avhich presupposes the laws of
number, and can be studied without previous knowledge of
any other science except arithmetic. Then comes rational
mechanics, which depends on the science of number and
geometry, to which it adds the laws of equilibrium and
movement. The truths of algebra and geometry would be
true even if those of mechanics were not ; arithmetic, alge-
bra, and geometry, therefore, do not depend on mechanics,
whereas the latter essentially dej)ends on the science of
number and extension. The science of number (arithmetic
and algebra), geometry, and rational mechanics together
constitute the science of mathematics, the universal science
and sole basis of all natural philosoph3\i

^ Cours de philosophie positive, vol. I. Cf . Pythagoras, Plato, Des-
cartes.

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 577

Astronomy is directly connected with mathematics. Its
truths rest on arithmetical, geometrical, and mechanical
truths, upon which it exercises no influence, but to wliieh
it adds a groui) of new facts : the laws of gravitation.^

Astronomy is followed by j^^i'l/sics, which depends not
only on the mathematical sciences, but also on astronomy,
for terrestrial phenomena are influenced by the motion of
the earth and of celestial bodies. It embraces barologt/, or
the science of weight, a transition-state between astronomy
and physics ; thermologi/, or the science of heat ; acoustics,
optics, and electrology, a connecting-link between physics
and the science which immediately follows it in the scale
of our knowledge : chemistrt/.

Chemistry adds its own truths to the laws of pli3-sics,
especially to those of thermology and electrology, on which
it essentially depends.^

Biology (ph^-siology) adds to the laws of the preceding
sciences a group of special laws.

Finally, at the top of the scale, we have social physics or
sociology^ which, in turn, depends on all the precethng
sciences, and adds new data to them. In fact, the laws of
organic and animal life, as well as tliose of inorganic
nature, influence human society, either by directly acting
upon life, or by determining the physical conditions under
which society is developed.

With the sciences which Comte calls uhstrnct are con-
nected the respective concrete sciences : with pliysics and
chemistry, abstract sciences, mineralog}^ a concrete sci-
ence ; with physiology, an abstract science, zoology and
botany, concrete sciences. The latter are concerned with
existing beings and ol^jcets ; the former, with the general
laws of occnrrencL'. The concrete scieiic-i's necessarily
advance more slowly than the abstract sciences, since they

' Cours lie jihiloxojihie positive, vol. 1 1.
"- l<l., vol. III. a /,/.^ vuLs. IV.-V.

578 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

depend on these. Hence they have not yet passed beyond
the descriptive stage.

The abstract sciences (mathematics, astronomy, physics,
chemistry, biology, sociology) pass from tlie theological
phase to the metaphysical and positive phase, in the order
of their simplicity. The more complex a science is, the
more obstacles it throws in the way of the human mind in
general as well as of the individual in particular. Thus,
mathematics, the simplest of the sciences, has, for thousands
of years, been almost positive. Forsooth, it never was the-
ological in the sense that any man of common-sense ever
prayed to God to make three times three ten, or the sum of
the angles of a triangle exceed t^vo right-angles. It was
understood, from the very beginning, that in these matters
there can be no intervention of freedom whatsoever.

We cannot say the same for astronomy. It had its theo-
logical period, during which the stars were conceived
either as divinities, or as moved by many divine wills
(polytheism), or by one divine will (monotheism). To this
phase belongs the miracle of Joshua. It had its metaphysi-
cal epoch, during which the regular motion of the heavenly
bodies was explained by their tendency towards perfection.
Aristotle is almost a theologian in astronomy ; even Coper-
nicus and Kepler are still metaphysicians, and this science
does not attain to its positive phase until the days of
Newton. In our age positive astronomy has become a part
of the popular consciousness. True, we still pray to God
for rain and good weather, but we no longer ask him to
arrest the apparent motion of the sun, or to change the
celestial orbits. We are still theologians in meteorology,
because, in this field, the uniformity of phenomena is less
marked, and because their apparent irregularity, joined
with our ignorance of their true laws, favors the super-
stitious belief that they are governed by a free will.
Astronomy, however, has abandoned this view.

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 57^

Physics and chemistiy were theologico-metaphysical sci-
ences longer than the science of celestial bocUes. They
abound in occult qualities, horrors, sympathies, and other
abstractions assumed to be realities. Chemistry was alchemy
down to the eighteenth century, and did not become a pos-
itive science until the days of Lavoisier. It took phj-si-
ology still longer to reach the threshold of positivism. Un-
til recently (tliink of Slahl's animism, of vitalism, Schelling
and Oken) it was right in the midst of metaphysics, and
positive biology does not go back farther than to Bichat.
Finally, sociology (moral and political science) has not yet
sui-mounted the barriers which separate metaphysics from
positivism. Many of its thinkers have not even passed the
theological stage (De ]\Iaistre, De Bonald, the theological
school).^ It is true, attempts at political positivism were
made by Ilobljes and Spinoza, who treated of man " as
though he were dealing with lines, surfaces, and bodies ; "
but their efforts met A\'ith no response. The eigliteenth
century and the Revolution prepared the Avay for positive
social science, without, however, establishing it. Positivism
claims the honor of having founded it.

Political and social ideas succeed each other accordincr
to a fixed law. As soon as this law is known, history
will cease to be a chaos, and become a science like jjhysics
and astronomy. Historical facts follow each other mid are
connected with the same necessity as Ijiological i)lifiioiiK'iia.
Formerly, one miglit have ])elieved that ciiiiu's and olTciices
vary considerably from year to yeai-, that chance and I'ree-
will are more ])reval('nt in tliis field than anywhere else.
But the statistics })ul)lis]ied by our govi-ninients prove

■ TIk:; llirologicul sdiool, chiefly reprosented by Di- Hoiialil (17.")1-
1810) and Joseph do Maistn" (1753-181^1), opjioscs to individiial ri'u-
Bon the " universal n-itson," to human philosojdiy " (Ii\ in." )>hil(isopliy "
asset forth in tin* rcvcali-d (lo;,Mna, to tlic thcorifsof |iulitic;i! and leli
gious liheralisin the theocratic syst^-ni now callrd iiltra-nioutanisni.

580 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

the contrary. We must therefore insist upon the essential
notion that historical events, i. e., social phenomena, are,
like everything else, subject to fixed laws, and that super-
natural interventions play no part in the development of
societies.

When social ethics will have been raised to the rank of
positive science, that is, of science, — for positive science
alone is true science, — the totality of sciences, i. e.,
philosophy, will be positive. Positive philosophy is no
longer a separate science, it is the synthesis, the systematic
co-ordination of human knowledge. Emanating from the
sciences, it does not differ from them in method : it em-
ploys the method of experience, supplemented by induc-
tion and deduction. Positive pliilosophy, moreover, is
philosophy in the true sense of the word, since it has for
its object the lohole of phenomena, the uiiiverse. It is the
business of positivism to study this totality, to unify the
entire field of human knowledge, to make the sciences phi-
losophical and philosophy scientific, to give the former the
unity they need, and the latter the prestige which it lost in
consequence of its recent indiscretions.

The reign of metaphysics is nearing its end. The reason
why the serious thinkers of the day are abandoning it is
plain : it never was a real science ; all it did, in ancient as
well as in modern times, was to turn out hypotheses after
hypotheses, having no stability whatsoever. The systems
which it brought forth antagonize each other in their very
principles. The history of the sciences represents a con-
tinuous advance : what is once acquired is retained for-
ever. In metaphj-sics, on the other hand, everything is in
a state of perpetual agitation and endless revolution. Meta-
physics has, undoubtedl}^, had its historical mission, and
has creditably discharged its task. It has demolished the
religions, and prepared the field for positive science. In
Greece, it overthrew the polytheistic faith and substi-

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 681

tuted monotheism for it ; in the Clnistian worhl, it pro-
duced tlie heresies which, little by little, weakened and
disorganized the Catholic system. But this essentially
negative and critical task is now fultilled, and the futility
of its efforts of two thousand years, when compared with
the rapid and continuous advance of the sciences, clearly
proves that it is merely a transitory form in the history of
the human mind.^

The preceding summary emhraces the philosophy of
Comte and Littrt^, excepting the political and sociological
doctrines of the Comtian system. A mixture of positivism,
mathematics, and humanitarian idealism, it exaggerates the
views represented in the eighteenth century by the Ency-
clopedia, and especially by the D'Alemberts, the Turgots,
and the Condorcets. Although the positivism of John
Stuart Mill ^ and Herbekt Spencer,^ which proceeds

1 Cours de la phUosophie positive, vol. VI., pp. Oto if. Little, Ana-
lyse raisonnee, pp. 55 ft'.

2 J, Stuart Mill (1800-1873) is the author of a Si/stein of Lor/ic,
Ratiocinative and Inductice, London, 1813 ft".: a capital work, which
aims to do for induction what Aristotle had already done for deductive
rea.soning, i. e., to reduce the inductive process (inference) to exact rules
and a scientific criterion. He also wrote : Examinallon of Sir William
Hamilton's Philosophy, 1805 [5th ed. 1878]; Comte and Posilirism, 1805;
\_Utilitarianism, 1S0:5; new ed., 1871; Nature, 1874 (posthumous);
Autobiography, 1873. Cf. Jevons's criticism, reprinted in Pure Logic,
London, 1890; A. Bain, John Stuart Mill, a Criticism, London, 1SS2;
H. Lauret, PhUosophie de St. Mill, Paris, 1886; C. Douglas,/. S. Mill;
a Study of his Philosophy, Edinl>urgh and London, 1805. See also
"Watson and the works montioned in next note. — Tij.]

8 Ilerhert Spencer (1>orn 1820) developed liis system, whose leadiup
conception is evolution (see § 00), in his [Social Statics, London, 1851,
2d ed., 1871; Principles of Psychology, 1855; 2(1 ed., 1872; 5tli ed.,
1890; First Principles, 1862; 7tli ed., 1889; Principles of Biology, 1803-
1807; 4th ed., 1888; Principles of Sociology, vol. L, 1870; 3d ed., 1885;
vol. II., 1879-1885; Principles tf Ethics (\y,\rt I., The Data of Ethics,
1879; 0th ed., 1802; l)art II., The Inductions of Ethics, 1802; part III.,
The Ethics <f Individual Life, 18:)2; part IV., Justice, ISOI). His

582 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

from Hume, Locke, and Bacon, recognizes the merits of
Auguste Comte, it is not so bold as the latter's. More-
over, it does not indulge in the socialistic dreams of the
French philosopher. Its ontology strikes a liappy mean
between a trivial spiritualism and a vulgar materialism.
Besides, it remains, more strictly than the positivists
of France, within the limits assigned to S|)eculation by
the criticism of Hume and Kant, and carefully avoids
all philosophy of the absolute as contradictory of posi-
tivistic principles, not taking sides, ahsohUcUj, either
with materialism or with spiritualism, which, as meta-
physical systems, both transcend the boundaries of the
knowable.

For tliis moderate, practical, and truly English form of
positivism, there is nothing absolute even in determinism.

work on Education, published 1863, has passed through twenty-three
editions. Authorized Epitome of the Synthetic Philosophy, by F. H.
Collins, 1889. — Tr.] The " first " principles to which he reduces
everything, matter, motion, and force, are but " symbols of the un-
known reality," " a power of which the nature remains forever incon-
ceivable." The materialists call it matter, the spiritualists, mind: but
" their controversy is a mere war of words, in which the disputants

are equally absurd each thinking he understands that which it is

impossible for any man to understand." {First Principles, American
edition, Summary and Conclusion, p. 557.) [On Spencer, see : B. P.
Bowne, The Philosophy of H. Spencer, New York, 1874, also Wat-
son, and Green {Works, vol. I.). — Tr.] English positivism, which,
besides the thinkers just mentioned, is represented by Alexander
Bain {The Senses and the Intellect, 1856; 4th ed., 1894; The Emotions
and the Will, 1859; 3d ed., 1875 ; Menial and Moral Science, 1868; 3d
ed., 1872]; S. Bailey [The Theory of Reasnnincj, 1851 ; The Philosophy
of the Human Mind, 1855]; G. H. Lewes [Com/e's Philosophy, 1847,-
Problems of Life and Mind, 3d ed., 1874] ; Buckle [History of Cimli
zation in England, 1857-1860]. See H. Taine, Le positivisme anglais,
e'tude sur J. S. Mill, Paris, 1864, and Th. Ribot, La psychologie anglaise
contemporaine, 2d ed., 1875 [Engl, translation. New York, 1801]. [John
Fiske, Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, New York, 1874 ff., is an Ameri-
can disciple of Herbert Spencer.]

POSITIVISM AND NEO-CRITICISM 583

Determinism is, in its eyes, a hypothesis with which the
sciences cannot dispense, and which daily leads to new
advances, but a hypothesis none the less. Experience
shows us that facts succeed each other in regular order,
hut since it deals only with a small piece of the world and
with a short period of time, we cannot tell whether the
order in question is ahsolutehj uniform, and whether the
succession of the antecedent, which we call the cause,
and of the consequent, which we call the effect, is necessary
in the metaphysical sense. It is even conceivable that
there should be, in certain stellar regions, an entire absence
of laws of succession, and that absolute indeterminism
should prevail there. We may, according to the same
thinker, without proving untrue to the principles of posi-
tivism, assume an intelligent and free Creator. We can
never reach the absolute ; the relative alone belongs to us.
We consequently proceed as thour/h the law established by
observation and induction were immutable, as though the
order of facts were constant, as though the determinism of
phenomena were universal and absolute. That is to say,
we invariably proceed like the positive and experimental
sciences, whicli have no need to trouble themselves about
the absolute and lirst causes ; we merely wisli to sul^stitute
positive science for metaphysics, preferring to a science that
caZZs t7se// absolute, and that is in reality hollow and l)ar-
ren, a science that knows that it is relative, but gradually
brings nature under the sway of man and his industry, a
science that is useful and the source of all progress.

In Germany Neo-Kantianism or Neo-Criticism ^ corre-

1 Positivism also has its representatives in rioruiany. W<' may
consider as such : Knjjen DUhring, liorn l.s;{:5 (A- tempore, s/xitio,
causalitate, etc., Berlin, 1805; Krithche Gtschichle <ler P/iilosnpliit', [th
e<l., Leipsic, 1801; Curnus <kr Philosophie, ISTO; Loyik uud Wisscn-
schaftslehre, 1878; etc.); .1. II. von Kirchniami, 1802-1881, aiillior of
£1 HVstein wliidi he calls reaUsni, an<l which he sets fortli in a nunilicr

584 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

spends to French and English positivism, which is inspired
by Hume and Condillac. Kant, who never ceased to have
disciples abroad,^ was neglected in liis own country and
almost thrown aside. Since 1860 the cry " Back to
Kant " 2 has become the watchword of a new school, the
principal leader of which is Albeht Lange,^ the eminent
author of the History of Materialism^ Lange is willing
to ao-ree with materialism as long as it does not presume
to be a system of metaphysics, but contents itself with
being a scientific method. Materialism, in other words, is
well-founded when it means mechanism, absolute negation

of writings (" thought and being have the same content, but differ in
form ") [Die Philosophie des Wissens, Berlin, 1864] ; Ernst Laas, 1836-
1885 {Idealismus und Positivlsmus, 3 parts, Berlin, 1879-84) ; etc.
Positivism or German realism differs from Neo-Criticism in that it
assumes the objective reality of space, time, matter, and does not,
like many Neo-Kantians, incline to Schopenhauer's pessimism. Diih-
ring, particularly, "the philosopher of reality " (Wirklichkeitsphilosoph),
is both dogmatic (in opposition to Albert Lange, Liebmann, etc.) and
optimistic (in opposition to Ed. von Hartmann).

1 The most deserving of these disciples is Charles Renouvier,
author of JSIanuels de pJiihsophie ancienne et moderne (p. 14, note 4) ;
Essals de critique ge'ne'rcde, 4 vols., Paris, 18.54-64 ; Science de la morale,
2 vols., Saint-Cloud, 1869, etc ; and, from 1872-1889, editor of the
Critique philosophique, politique, scierttijique, lilteraire, a worthy rival of
the Revue philoxophique of Th. Ptibot. Unlike German Neo-Criticism,
which ascribes only a secondary importance to the ethics of the mas
ter, Renouvier regards it as the key-stone of the Kantian system.
[The Anne'e philosophique, founded in 1890 by Francois Pillon, and
edited with the cooperation of the veteran Renouvier, is the able
successor of the Critique. — Tr.]

2 [Otto Liebmann concludes each chapter of his work, Kant und
die Epigonen, Stuttgart, 1865, with the refrain : Also 7)iuss auf Kant
zuriicl-gegangen werden (hence we must go back to Kant). — Tr.]

3 1828-1875. Professor at Marburg.

* [Iserlohn, 1866 ; 4th (popular) ed. (without index and notes),
Iserlohn, 1882; 5th ed., ed. by H. Cohen, Leipsic, 1896 ; Engl, transl.
by E. C. Thomas, 3 vols., London, 1878-81 ; Logische Studien, 1877.
-Tr.]

POSITIVISM AXD NEO-CRITICISM 585

of final causes. But, he aikls, materialism becomes an
illusion and an error as soon as it professes to be a solution
of the ontological problem, an explanation of the ultimate
essence of things. What is matter ? An idea and nothing
more, a representation of the mind ( VorstellungsUld)^
Avhich, we imagine, corresponds to an objective reality, an
ens ill se. But between this idea and this reality, there is
a gulf which nothing, absolutely nothing, can bridge over.
Nay, more than that. In so far as we know matter only
as an idea (_ which is in us), idealism, and not materialism,
is true. Furthermore, idealism has its undeniable raison
d'etre in the fact that it is inchspensable to human life and
happiness. The ideal and metaphysics retain all their
lights ; but, like religion and art, they have their rights
ly the side of science, not in science. Science — as Kant
has demonstrated unquestionably and for all times to come
— cannot reach the thing-in-itself, the absolute. Let phi-
losophy, therefore, frankly and definitively abandon meta-
physics, and confine itself to the sphere of the knowable,
that is, facts. Onl}' upon this condition will it become what
it ceased to be in the hands of Kant's successors : science.

Neo-Criticism, we see, forms but a part of Kantianism.
It is the Kantianism of the Critique of Pure Reason, Kantr
ianism minus the categorical imperative and the postulates
of practical reason, i. e., scepticism in metaphysics, or, as
we should say in France, Positivism.

Around the standard of Positivism, freed from tlie par-
ticular ideas of Comte, and Neo-Criticism are gathered most
of the scientific and literary celebrities of our time : men
like Claude Bernard,^ E. Du Bois-Keymond,^ H. Helm-

J 1813-1878.

* [Born 1818.] Uehcr die Grenzen des Nnlurerkennens (On the
Limits of iJifi Knowledge of Nature), Berlin, 1872; 7tli ed., 1801; [Die
sit'hfin Wellrdth.iel {The Seven World-riddles), Berlin, 1880; liolli in his
Reden uud Au/sdtze, 188"J.] Ills iiHjttcj is: hjnoramus et iynondiimus.

586 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

HOLTZ,^ VIRCHO^Y,2 W. WuNDT,^ H. Taine,* E. Renan,^

ScH^REB.^ Their pliilosopliy, wliicli we may call the ^3osi-
tivisme dcs savants,"^ is realistic in so far as it is based solely
on reality, on facts, on observation and experience ; ideal-
istic, in so far as it recognizes that the reality accessible to

1 See p. 563, note 5. 2 See p. 563, note 4.

8 [Born 1832. Vorlesungen Uher die Menschen und T/uerseele, Leip-
sic, 1863 ; 2d ed., 1892 ; Engl. tr. by J. E. Creighton and E. B. Titch-
ener {Human and Animal Psychology), New York, 1895] ; Grundzuge der
phy^iologischen Psychologie, 2 vols., 1873-74; [4th ed., 1893]; Logik, 2
vols., Stuttgart, 1880-83; [2d ed., 1893]; Essays, 1885; Elhlk, Stutt-
gart, 1886 ; [2d ed., 1892]; System der FkUosophie, 1889. In this last
work, one of the most important to appear in recent years, Wilhelra
Wundt shows himself in a new and unexpected light. He concedes to
metaphysics its raison d'etre and the rank which belongs to it in the
hierarchy of sciences, provided it be empirical and positive. His system
is not, however, one of those innovations which claim to be raised upon
the ruins of the past, but a vast scientific synthesis and a happy at-
tempt at a reconciliation of the rival doctrines of modern speculation.
The whole work is conceived in that elevated, moderate, conciliatory,
and impersonal spirit that characterizes the true philosopher. The
psychologist of Leipsic is also, let us add, a decided adherent of volun-
tarism. (See § 71.) \_Grundriss der Psychologie, Leipsic, 1896.]

* [1828-1893.] De V intelligence, 2 vols., 1870 ; 2ded., 1882 ; [Engl,
tr by Haye, 1871.]

6 [1823-1892.] La reforme intellectuelle et morale, 2d ed., Paris,
1872; PhilosopMe de I'art, 2d ed., 1872; Dialogues et fragments philoso-
pJiiques, 1876 ; [Engl tr., 1883; Vie de Jesus, 1863; Engl. tr. by Wil-
bour.]

6 1815-1889. See, especially, the Introduction to Melanges d'histoire
religieuse, 2d ed., Paris, 186.5.

^ Its organs are : the Revue philosophique of Th. Ribot (the distin-
guished psychologist and author of La psychologie anglaise conlempo-
raine, 1875, La psychologie allemande contemporaine, 1879, Uheredite
psychologique, 2d ed., 1882; [translations of these and other works of
Eibot published by the Open Court Publishing Co., Chicago] ; the
Zeitschrift fur icissenschaftliche PhilosopMe of Avenarius ; the Rivista di
filosofa scientifica; Mind, a Quarterly Review of PsT/chology and Philoso^
phy ; [the Monist of Paul Carus, Fundamental Problems, 2ded., Chicago,
1893 ; The Soul of Man, etc.] ; etc.

CONCLUSION 587

human consciousness is, in the last analysis, merely phe-
nomenal, that the facts are, after all, only our ideas, con-
sidered as signs or symbols of a reality unknowable in
itself.

§ 71. Conclusion

Although positivistic monism is the dominant feature
of the pliilosophy of the nineteenth century, spiritualism
ha-s been struggling valiantly, since the days of Reid, to
hold its own. Kant, who pitilessly destroyed it in his
Critique of Pure licason, calls it back to life in his moral
postulates, and, ultimately, renders it a signal service. F.
H. Jacobi,^ whom Ave found among the opponents of the
Critique, defends spiritualism against the pantheism of
Spinoza, Schelling, and Hegel, by appealing to the inner
sense. The theologian and philosopher Schleiermacher,^
although an enthusiastic Spinozist, indirectly advances the
spiritualistic cause by his appeal to religious feeling (das
fromme Gefilhl) and the "awakening" which it tends to
produce.^ Christian F. Krause,* a thinker of great merit,

1 See § 63.

* 17f!8-lS:M. A disciple of Spinoza (thonsli an original disciple,
like Herder), Scheierniach -^r attempts, especially in liis ethics, to
reconcile the monism of the master with the principle of individual
spontaneity, by substituting for the abstract idea of unity the concrete
principle of harmony. His theory of knowledge, as set forth in the
first part of his Dlalekllk, is likewise a happy attempt to reconcile the
nihil in inlelledu of the pure sensationalists and the nihil in senxu of
Fichte and Ilegel. [Complete works, Herlin, 1835-04. lietlcn iiher
die Religion, etc., 1709 ; Kng. tv. by J. Oman, London, 18!>3 ; Afonnloffcn,
IbOO; Grundriss der philosophischen Ethik; ed. by A. Twesten, 18U.]

' The essence of religion is, according to him, the feeling of de-
pendence on the infinit<i.

* 1781-183-J. Grundlage des A^a/un-fcA/.s -Tena, 1803 ; Entwiirf dcs
Systems der Philosophic, Jena, 1801; System drr Sitlrnlehre, Leijisic,
1810; [2ded., 1HS7]; etc. Krause's stylf, wliich is often unintelligi-
ble, greatly retarded the success of his philitsophy. 'I'Ih- following were
his adherents : tlie (jlerman Ahrens (died in Leipsic, 187 1), author of

588 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

but unappreciated in his own country, substitutes for pan-
theism loancntheism^ or the doctrine of the immanency of
things in God, considered as a transcendent personality and
yet united in substance with the creature. Christian H.
Weisse,! Immaxuel Hermann Fichte,^ a son of the
celebrated philosopher, Hermann Ulrici, J. U. WniTH,
MoRiTZ Carriere,^ H. M. Chalybaeus,* opposed to this
doctrine the system of speculative theism. A. Trendelen-
burg,^ inspired by the teleology of Aristotle, teaches a sys-
tem of metaphysics, whose leading thought is the idea of
movement, the common essence of thought and being.
Schelling, in his later stage, Christoffer Jacob Bos-
TROM 6 of Upsala, Herjuann Lotze," Gustav Fechxer,^

Corns de pJiilosophie, Paris, 1836-38; Cows de droit naturel ou philoso-
phle du droit, Paris, 1838; Cows de philosophie de Phistoire, Brussels,
184:0 ; the Belgian Tiberghien, author of Essai theorique et pratique sur
la generation des connaissances humaines, Paris and Leipsic, 1844;
Esquisse de pJiilosophie morale, Brussels, 1854 ; Logique, Paris, 1865 ; the
Frenchman Boueliitte, author of tlie article on Krause in the Diction-
naire des sciences pJiilosophiques ; the Spaniard J. S. del Rio, who trans-
lated several of his works ; etc. Krause has to this day many dis-
ciples in Spain.

1 1801-1866. Die Idee der Gottheit, Dresden, 1833 ; Grundzuge der
Metaphysik, Hamburg, 1835 ; etc.

2 1797-1879. Spekulative Theologie, Heidelberg, 1846-47 ; System
der Ethik, Leipsic, 1850-53 ; etc.

* These three, together with Weisse and the younger Fichte, found-
ed the Zeitschrift fiir Philosophie wid philosophische Kritik. They are
writers of note.

* [1792-1862.] System der speculativen Ethik, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1850;
etc.

' 1802-1872. Professor at Berlin, and author of Logische Unter-
suchungen, 2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1870 ; etc.

^ On Bostrom and Scandinavian philosophy see the sketch of K. R.
Geijer in Ueberweg's History of Philosophy, 7th ed., § 49, pp. 536 ff.

'' See p. 542, note 2.

8 1801-1887. The founder of psycho-physics, or the science of the
mathematical relations of physics and psychology; author of Ueher

CONCLUSION 589

Charles Secretan,^ Erxest Naville,^ and, within
Catholic circles, Franz Baader,-^ Lamennais,*^ BAUTiUN,^

das hochste Gut, Leipsic, 1816; Nanjia oder uber das Seelenleben der
PJlanze, lSi8; Zendavesta, 1851; Elemente der Psychophysik, 18G0 ;
Die drei Motive und Grilnde des Glaubens, 1863 ; Die Tagesansicht ije-
geniiber der Naclitansicht, 1879 ; \_Da$ Buddein com Leben nach dem Tode,
1836 ; 3d ed., 1887. Friedrich Paulsen, born 1846, teaches a system
of metaphysics similar to Fechner's in his Einhituny in die Philoi^opkie,
Berlin, 1891 ; 4th ed., 1895 ; Engl. tr. by Frank Thilly, Xew York,
1895].

1 Philosophie de la libert,', 2d ed., 1872 ; Recherche de la methode ;
Pre'cis de philosophie, etc. The Philosophy of Liberty is the boldest at-
tempt at a speculative construction of the dogma of moral freedom
which has been made since the days of Schelling.

2 Publisher of the posthumous works of Maine de Biran, and author
of : La vie e'ternelle, Geneva, 1861 ; Le probleine du mat, 1868; Le devoir,
1868, etc.

* 1765-1841. Professor in ]\Iunich ; a disciple of Bbhme, to whose
theosophy he introduced his friend and colleague Schelling. Ilis
complete works have been published by his zealous adherent, Franz
Hoffmann, in 16 vols., Leipsic, 1851-60.

* 1782-185 L Esquisse d''une philosophie, 4 vols., Paris, 1841—46. lu
this masterpiece of speculative theology, the abbe de Lamennais, in-
spired by the Xeo-Platonic and Schellingian theory of emanation, con-
ceives creation as the unfolding, in space and time, of the divine unity
and its infinite content. It is, on the part of the absolute being, an
eternal act of immolation and sacrifice, by which God, who is force or
power, form or intelligence, and life or love, gives his very substance
to his creatures, according to a progression in which the complexity
and unity go on increasing, from the nebular ether to the intelligent
and free being. And just as the divine life is a perpetual sacrifice,
each creature dies in order to transmit its life to other creatures. Each
is nourished by all, and all are nourished Ijy God. Ileraclitus (§ 8)
had said before him : " Mortals live the life of the gods, and the gods
the life of mortals."

8 1796-1807. Professor and canon at Strasburg, and, since 1819,
Vicar-General of the diocese of Paris. His system is contained in:
La philosophic dn rhrislianisrne, 2 vols., Strasburg, 1833; La philosophie
morale, 2 V(j1s , Paris, 1852 ; and L'esprit huiii'iin I't si's fnriilli's, 2 vols.,
Paris, 1859. Unlike Lamennais, the alibe IJautain, who was at first
liberal, unreservedly submits to the dogma of the Church.

590 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Gkatry,^ Rosmini,2 Gioberti,^ Froschammer,* and many
others, attempt to reconcile the spiritualistic faith and the
monistic instinct of reason by means of syntheses greatly
resembling the panentheism of Krause.

In the chairs of the University of France, where Condil-
lac reigned suj^reme until the Imperial period,^ Cartesian
spiritualism again came into vogue about the year 1815,
and found brilliant interpreters in Royer-Collard,^
Maine de Biran,'^ Victor Cousin,^ Theodore Joue-

1 1805-1872. Professor at the Sorbonne. Logique, Paris, 1856 ;
La morale et la loi de I'hhtoire, 1868, etc.

2 1797-1855. Nuovo saggio sulV origine delle idee, Rome, 1830 [tr.
into English, 1883-84], and Turin, 1855; Principle della scienza morale,
Milan, 1831-37; Rome, 1868; Teosojia, vols. I. to V. of Rosmini's
posthumous works, Tm'in, 1859-7-1.

3 1801-1852. Inlroduzione alio studio della Jilosojia, Brussels, 1840 ;
Filosofia della revelazione, Turin, 1856 ; Protologia, Turin, 1857 ; etc.
On Rosmini and Gioberti see Ad. Franck, La philosophie italienne,
Journal des Savants, 1871 and 1872.

* [Born 1821.] Die Phantasie als Grundprincip des Weltprocesses,
Munich, 1877.

^ The chief representatives of his philosophy during this epoch
are : Cabanis (§ 60) ; Voluey (1757-1820), CEucres completes, 2d ed.,
Paris, 1836 ; Destutt de Tracy (1754-1836), iSle'ments d'ide'ologie, Paris,
1801-15, Commentaire sur l' Esprit des lois de Montesquieu, Paris, 1819 ;
Laromiguiere, Lemons de philosophie ou essai sur les facultes de I'dme,
Paris, 1815-18. The latter anticipates the spiritualistic reaction, by
introducing into traditional psychology the principle of attention and
spontaneity, thereby agreeing with Maine de Biran.

6 1763-1845.

' CEuvres, published by V. Cousin, 4 vols., 1840, and completed by
Naville and Debrit, 3 vols., 1859. He is, unquestionably, the most
profound among the leaders of the French-Scotch school. He is a
representative of voluntarism and concrete spii'itualism, and opposed

8 1792-1867. Councillor of State, Member of the Royal Council
of Public Instruction, Professor at the Sorbonne, Member of the In-
stitute, Director of the Normal School, Peer of France, and in addi-

CONCLUSION 591

FROY.^ The spiritualistic school, which draws its inspira-
tion from Descartes, Leihniz, and, especiall}-, from Reid,
bases philosophy on psychology, and psychology on inner
observation. Besides having enriched the history of phi-

to the rationalistic and dualistic pliilosopliy of V. Cousin. As adher-
ents of M. de Biran we mention Felix Ravaisson (Essai sur la Meta-
physique d'Aristote, 2 vols., Paris, 1837 and 1846; Rapport sur la phi-
losophie fran(:aise au dix-neuvieme siecle, Paris, 18G8 and 18S.")) and his
disciples, Jules Lachelier {Du fondement de Vinduclion, coiirs ine'dits de
psycliulogie, logiqiie, morale, Iheodice'e, pro/esses d VEcole normale supe-
j-ieure) and Emile Boutroux (Z)e la conlingence des lois de la nature,
Paris, 1874). Ravaisson, Lachelier, and Boutroux oppose to the
" denii-spiritualisui of the eclectic school " the " true spiritualism,
that which regards even matter as immaterial, and explains nature
itself by mind " (Ravaisson's Rapport, etc., p. 142).

1 1790-1842. Melanges, 1833; 1842; Cours de droit naturel, 1835;
etc. Jouffroy, one of the most attractive representatives of the
school, was especially influenced by Reid, whose works he translated.
Among his disciples and successors, we must mention, in the first
rank, the present leader of French spiritualism, Paul Janet {Le mate-
rialisme contemporain en Allemagne, 1864; [Kngl. tr., German Materi-
alism, etc., by G. Masson, London, 1866]; La arise philosophiijue, 1865;
Le cerveau el la pensde, 1807; 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 Cliap-
man, London, 1883]; Les causes finales, 2d ed., 1882 ; [Engl. tr. by
Affleck, London, 1883] ; etc. [On tliis entire school see A. Franck,
Moralistes et philosophes, 1872; 2d od., 1871.]

tion to all this " mode'rateur tmit-pmssant de Venseignement philosopfiique"
in the University, under the reign of Louis-Philippe. Cours de I'/iis-
loire de la philosophie modeme, first series (1815-20); second series
(1828-30); Fragments pliilosojdiiques, 1820; 5th ed., 1806 (5 vols.);
etc. — V, Cousin, wlio was a zealous adliercnt of (Jerniau pliilosopliy
during his earlier p<-riod, did not really teach a tliorougli-goiiig spirit-
ualism until he reached his official stage. See on Cousin a li'Mglliy
article in the second edition of tlu^ Dictionuaire des scirnres jdii-
losophiques, and on his relation to (lenuan philosophy and especially
to Hegel, a series of articles by Janet in the /if cue des Drnx-Mondes.

592 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

losophy with a great number of magnificent works,^ it has
the merit of liaving 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

^ To the names already mentioned we may add those of Francisque
Bouillier, Haure'au, Matter, Willm, Remusat, Damiron, Saisset, Bar-
tholmess, Jules Simon, Nourrisson, Bartlielemy-Saint-Hilaire, Ad.
Franck, Ch. Waddington, Caro, Alaux, 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 {Leitre sur V eclecticisme et le doctrinarisme,
Paris, 1834), Pierre Leroux {Refutation de V eclecticisme, 1839), Taine
{Les pMlosophes class ifjues fr/mcais du XIX. siecle, 1857; 3d ed., 1868),
Secretan (La philosophie de V. Cousin, 1868), etc.

CONCLUSION 593

that it proceed scientifically can pliilosopliy, 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 the
name, is the search for a system of laws, principles, or
causes, i. e., a search for the universal, sometliing supe-
rior to the phenomenon, a suprasensible reality, in a word,
a /xera<f)V(nK6v. 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 thiny-in-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 metapliysical conclusions which
justify or refute the intuitions of speculative philosophy.

Ignoring this threefold truth, itositivism is absolutely
sceptical of all hvpotheses concerning the first and final
causes of the world. It confuses two entirely dilTerent
things: dualism, a passing form of Iniiiiaii tliouglit. and
metaphysics, its permanent and legitimate go;d. It tails to
see that its protest against metai)hysics at the same time
attacks tlie very sciences wliich it pretends to substitute for
metsipliysics. If this protest were just, then ].liysics, cliem-
istry, the natural iuid moral seiences, wouM all have to give

594 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

up formulating universal theories ; for every scientific
tlieory 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 the fact that the same holds true of philosophy ; it
forgets that, though absolute 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 absolute certainty.

One phase of the history of metaphysics, 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 metaphj^sics is in a
state of endless change, we oppose the entire history just
outlined by us. If anything has changed and continually
changes, it is the hypotheses of physics, chemistry, and
phj^siology ; and if anything has remained in agreement
with itself, for more than two thousand years, it is meta-
physics. The great h}^otheses of the unity, continuity,
and immortality of being, existed prior to Plato and Aris-
totle, and constitute tlie 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-
isting- between rival movements and schools. We have
discovered such agreement between Plato and Democritus,
Descartes and Bacon, Leibniz and Schopenhauer, Herbart
and Hesrel. We have seen how the idealist Plato assumes
the eternity of the fjit} ov, and the materialist Democritus

CONCLUSION 695

proclaims the principle that everytliin<jj in nature has its
reason for existing ; we have observed that the intellec-
tualist Descartes agrees with the head of the empirical
school in protesting against the application of teleology to
physics ; we have shown that the atomist Herbart assumes
a tii-st cause, and that Hegel, his antipode, considers the
atom as a necessary form of being ; that Leibniz, the opti-
mist, and Schopenhauer, the pessimist, both teach that
"effort" is the essence of things.

This agreement would be even more complete, were it
not for the subjective elements wliich play an essential part
in tlie formation of systems. Take away from each that
wliich is the result of the circumstances under which it
was produced, the self-love of the philosoplier, his 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 l^ottom 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 wliere the
dLsagreement between the thiidvcrs is real, it is not abso-
lute. Among the ancients as well as among the moderns,
the following are the essential (piestions at stake: Has tlie
universe one or many causes, a conscious or an unconscious
cause? What is the origin of oui- knowledge, and the true
phih>sopliical mctliod? Is metaphysics jiossible? On these
important, ontological, metliodological, and critical (pics-
tions, philosophers are divided into monists and pliiialists,
spiritualists and materialists, idealists or rationalists and
sensationalists or empiricists, dogmatists and sceptics. How-
ever, none of these systems lias ever l)een so raijiial as not
to take into account, in a certain measure, the contrary
teaching.

596 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

To begin with ; lias there ever been a monistic or plu-
ralistic system in the absolute sense of the 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 irreducible elements ; we have
seen that Platonism recognizes, by the side of the Idea, a
fir] 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 the non-ego ; the latter, the absoluteness of
reason, and subsequently confess, reluctantly, no doubt,
(1) that the non-ego remains for reason an insurmountable
obstacle; (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 relative 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-
established harmony," which, in his system, represents the
monistic principle, and his philosophy too is, vdtimately,
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 la^^•s, does not contemporaneous
atomism clearly betray its monistic or unitary preposses-
sions? Hence, the most rigorous x)luralists advance a
relative monism.

Between materialism, which recognizes no invisible real-
ities except atoms and inlinite space, and spiritualism,
wliich adds to the universe a transcendent order of things,
we have : Ionian hylozoism, which regards the cosmic sub-
stiince itself as intelligence, wisdom, reason, and harmony ;
Peripateticism, which affii'ms 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 })hilo8ophy 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 tliemselves suspect ; neither
assuming anything to be innate but the faculty of formiiuj
ideas ; we have seen liow Kant sides with both of them,
by showing that the matter of all our perceptions is fur-
nished l)y the senses, and that the form of «//, witliout
exception, is tlie product of the sensible subject, the effect
of tlie particular constitution of llie mind: a syntliesia
whicli physiology and psychology ten<l more and more to
conlirm.^

When we consider the question of nittliod, wliich is in-
timately connected with the preceding, we lind the same
' See especially Ileliiilioltz, Phijsiolo(jische Optik, p. loO.

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 liiMiself, has ever seriously denied that an empirical
datum is, actually, the starting-point of a 2Jriori 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 wliich Hegel
draws between the philosophical and the non-philosophical
sciences, is no longer recognized in our times. Every sci-
ence is necessarily philosopliical, every philosophy, worthy
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 wliich European metaphysics
has bequeathed to us, and in the refutation, likewise em-
pirical, of its errors. The personalities of the pliilosophers,
their great and little ^ambitions, their individual hkes and
dislikes, all of which played an ail-too important part in the
history of pliilosophy, 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 599

the highest science. Comtian positivism has the merit of
having contribnted 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, Avliile Hellenic
scepticism culminates in a form of probabilism ^^•llieh
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 evert/
Future Metaphysics^ his Mctajjhysics of Nature^ and his Meta-
phi/sics of Morals. Positivism itself, though asserting that
metaphysics is a chimera, is tlie intimate all}' of material-
ism, i. e., a system of metaphysics, and thus involuntarily
furnishes the proof ad homiucm 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 supported b\- facts when it claims that an
intimate relation exists between inner perception and the
regular functions of the brain ; it lias for it the autliority
of reason when it proclaims the essential unity of things
and the principle of universal causality, tliat is, in a word,
monism ; but it is like idealism, its opposite. It has tlie
appearance of a universal synthesis, but explains only one-
half of tliat which it pretends to explain. We have seen
wliat insurmountabli! obstacles confront all idealistic think-
ers in llicir attempts to ])ass iVniii tlic ideal to tlie iral.
Plat<» succeeded in the acc(»nij»lishnient of this task, only
by sacrificing absolute idealism, and inleipolating the liy-

600 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

pothesis of a non-leing, 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 wliich involves reality, thought
which implies force, is more than an idea, more than thought,
and the name idea^ given to the principle of things thus
conceived, is inadequate to the tiling 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 'produce 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 unitg ivhence
proceed both matter and thought.

Now tills 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 a, 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 tlie 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 loill is, in the
last ancdysis, the higher unity of Force and Idea, the common
denominator, and the only one to winch physics and morals

1 W. Wundt, Physiologische Psychologic : Kein Bewusstsein ohne
WUlenstMtigkeit. Cf. Theodor Lipps, Grundthatsachen des Seeletilebens,
p. 601 : Das Streben bildet den eigentlichen Kern des Seelenlebens.

CONCLUSION 601

can he reduced: it is being in its fulness. Everything else
is merely a phenomenon. Compared to the cjfort wliich
produces them, realizes them, eoiLstitutes them, matter and
thought are nothing but accidents : both exist only through
the act Avhich produces them. The will is at the basis of
eveiy tiling (Ravaisson ^) ; it is not only the essence of the
human soul (Duns Scotus, Maine de Biran, Bartholmfess),
the primary phenomenon of psychical life (AVundt), but the
universal phenomenon (Schopenhauer), the basis and the
substance of being (Secrdtan 2), the only absolute principle
(Schelling ^). On this princij)le, 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, which considers ivill as the ground
of all things and the common substance of the •' 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 tliis respect as well as in
many othei-s, we observe a signilicant agreement between the
present leaders of speculative and positive metaphysics;
and this agreement — consensus dissentientium — is, unques-
tionably, the most characteristic phenomenon in the pliilo-
sophic movement of our times.

Moreovei-, contemporaneous voluntarism diffei-s essen-
tially from tlie system of Schopenhauer.'^ According to

1 li'ij'porl sur In phitosophte frau^aise au dix-tieuvihne sihcle.

2 limine pf,Uomphl,/ue, VII., 3, p- '^Oi. * Sec p. 187 ff.

* litjtlii/iin anx rejli'j-ioiui de Baijle.

* For lh<^ (lifTficnw betwceii pessimistic voliiiitiirism and mr/tor.
iflic voluntarism, him; my tieatihcs: Wille zum Libtn udtr W'iilt zum

602 MODERN PHILOSOPHY

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, tlu'ough 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 ui-ges it to do in liis doctrine of the nega-
tion of the will, although otherwise condemning the
avToxeipia. 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 sometliing mightier 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

Guien f Ein Vorirag uber Eduard von Hartmann'' s Philosopliie, Stras-
burg, 1882 ; Ueher die Rolle des Willens in der Relic/ion, 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 Mill a higher and more excellent
will, wliich strives after the ideal {Wdlc zurii Outcn). This,
and not the Wille zum Leben of Schopenhauer, is the true
essence and the first cause of being, suhstantia sire I)cus.

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 Avliieh the
tlu-ee factors which, as we have seen, co-operate in the de-
velopment of European 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, wliich affirms the moral
ideal, the ultimate end of the creative effort and universal
becoming (Plato, Kant, Fichte).

Nature is an evolution, of wliiili infinite Perfection is
both tlie motive force and the highest goal (Aristotle, Des-
cartes, Hegel).

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1893; T. Fowler, Deductive and Inductive Logic, London, l.S'.)5;
J. G. Hibben, Inductive Logic, New Y(»rk, 1890. — E. L. FIscIht,
Die CrundfriK/en drr Erkmnluisstheorie, Main/, 1HS7 ; Theorie
der Gesichtswaliruthniiiiig. 1«'.II ; A. Dorntr, Das nirnscJilic/ie

606 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Erkennen, Berlin. 1887; C, Stumpf, Psychologie und Erkenntmss-
theorie, Munich, 1891 ; H. Sclnviirz, Das Wahrnehmungsprohlem,
Leipsic, 1892. — K. Prantl, Geschichte der Logik im Abendlande,
4 vols., Leipsic, 1855-70; F. Harms, Geschichte der Logik, Ber-
lin, 1881 ; L. Liard, Les logiciens anglais contemporains, Paris,
1878; E. Konig, Die Entwickelung des Causalproblems, 2 vols.,
Leipsic, 1888, 1890 ; E. Grimm, Zur Geschichte des Erkemitniss-
problems, Leipsic, 1890.

Psychology, etc. : H. Lotze, Medicimsche Psychologie, oder Phy-
siologie der Seele, Leipsic, 1852, 1896; H. Spencer, Principles of
Psychology, London, 1855 ; A. Bain, Senses and Intellect, London,
1855,4th ed.. New York, 1894; Emotions and Will, London,
1859, 3d ed., 1875 ; M. Lazarus, Das Lehen der Seele, Berlin,
1856-57, 3d ed., 3 vols., 1884; G. T. Fechner, Elemente der
Psychophysik, Leipsic, 1860 ; W. Wundt, Vorlesungen ilber
Menschen- und Thierseele, 1863 (see p. 586); Grundzuge der phy-
siologischen Psychologie, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1873-74, 4th ed., 1893 ;
H. Maudsley, The Physiology and Pathology of Mind, London,
1867 ; W. Carpenter, Principles of Mental Physiology, 4th ed.,
1876; A. Horwicz, Psychologische Analysen auf physiologischer
Grundlage, 3 vols., Magdeburg, 1872-78; F. Brentano, Ps^/cAo-
logie vom empirischen Standpunkte, vol. I., Leipsic, 1874; W. F.
Volkmann, Lehrbuch der Psychologie, 2 vols., Cothen, 1875, 4th
ed., 1894 ; H. Steinthal, Einleitung in die Psychologie und Sprach-
wissenschaft, 2d ed., Berlin, 1881 ; J. Sully, Illusions (lit. Science
Se7'ies), 1881 ; C. Stumpf, Tonpsychologie, vol. I., Leipsic, 1883;
vol. II., 1890; Ur sprung der Raumvorstellung, 1873; Th. Lipps,
Griindthatsachen des Seelenlebens, Bonn, 1883; H. Hoffding, Ps^-
chologie 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, Ucber Gemuths-
bewegungen, Leipsic, 1887; G. T. Ladd, Elements of Physiological
Psychology, New York, 1887; Psychology, Descriptive and Ex-
flanatory, id., 1894 ; H. Munsterberg, Die Willenshandlung,
Freiburg, 1888 ; Beitrdge zur experimentellen Psychologie, 1889 ff. ;
G. Sergi, La pis^jchologie physiologique, from the Italian, Paris,
1888 ; W. James, The Principles of Psychology, 2 vols., New

BIBLIOGRAPHY 607

York, 1890 ; Th. Ziehen, Leitfaden der physiologischen Psychologie,
1891, 2d ed., 1893; Engl, transl., 1892, 2d ed., 1895; J. M.
Baldwin, Handbook of PsijcJiohgy, 2 vols.. New York, 1891; J.
Sully, The Human Mind, 2 vols., ISTew York, 1892 ; A. Leh-
man, Das menschliche GefUhlslehen, Leipsic, 1892 : O. Kulpe,
Grundriss der Psychologie, Leipsic, 1893; Engl, transl. by E. B.
Titchener, Xew York, 1895; A. Fouillee, La psychologie des
idees-forces, Paris, 1893. Experimental Psychology, by Cattell,
Sanford, and Titchener. — Kussmaul, Untersuchungen iiher das See-
lenlehen des neugehorenen Menschen, Leipsic and Heidelberg, 1859 ;
W. Preyer, Die Seele des Kindes, 4th ed., Leipsic, 1895 (tr. in In-
ternational Education Series) ; Mental Development in the Child,
tr., lb., 1893 ; B. Perez, Les trois premieres annees de Venfant,
Paris, 1882, 4th ed., 1888; Engl, transl. 1894; Denfant de trois
a sept ans, 1886, 2(1 ed., 1888 ; D education morale d^s le berceau,
1888; F. Tracy, Psychology of Childhood, Boston, 1893, 2d ed.,
1894 ; J. M. Baldwin, Menial Development in the Child and
the Race, New York, 1895 ; J. Sully, Studies of Childhood,
New York, 1896. — C. Darwin, The Descent of Man, London,
1871 ; Expression of the Emotions, 1872 ; G. H. Schneider,
Der thierische U7//e, Leipsic, 1880 ; Der menschliche II7//p, Berlin,
1882 ; G. Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals, London, 1883 ;
Mentcd Evolution in Man, 1889; Gallon, 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. — IL Spencer, 7Vie Prin-
ciples of Sociology, London, 1854; Tii. Waitz, Anthropologic der
Natiirvolker, Leipsic, 1859 If., 2d ed., by G. Gerland, 1877 ff. ; J.
LubI)Ock, Prehistoric Times, Lon(\ou, 1865,5th od., 1889; Ori-
gin of Civilization, 1870 ; E. B. Tyler, Primitive Culture, Lon-
don, 1871 ; Anthropology, 1881 ; (). Peschel, ]'olkerkunde,,
Leipsic, 1874, 5th ed., by A. Kiivl,l,„fT, 1881 ; J. Ranke,
Drr Afp)isch, 2 vols., 2d (•<!., Leipsic, IHDl. — (iriosinger. Die
Palhulngir und Thrrapie der psychlschrn hrttukhvitcn. Stuttgart,
1845. Itli ed., 1870; K'niiTl-Ebiiig. L,hrt,urh ,lrr J'syrhinfrir, fnh
ed., Stuttgart. 18'.I3 ; Meyiiert. /'syrhialric, N'ieiiiia, IHM'.); Lewis,

608 BIBLIOGEAPHY

Text-hooh of Mental Diseases ; 8tavv, Faim'Uar Forms of Nervom
Disease, 2d ed., 1891 ; P. Janet, L'etat mental des hysteriques, 2
vols., Paris, 1892-93 ; Ziehen, Psychiatrie ; also Th. Ribot, Dis-
eases of the Will, Diseases of Memory^ Diseases of Personality,
mentioned before ; A. Biuet, Les alterations de la personnalite,
Paris, 1893. For hypnotism, see works of Charcot, Binet, Fere,
Bernheim, Krafft-Ebing, P^orel, Dessoir, Wuudt, Schmidkunz,
Moll, Gurney, Lic'geois, etc. — Histories of Psychology : F. A.
Cams, Leipsic, 1808; F. Harms, 2d ed., Beriin, 1879; H. Sie-
beck, Gotha, 1880-84; M. Dessoir, GeschicMe der neueren
deutschen Psychologic, 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,
Vortrcige imd Ahhandlungen, 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 Darwinismus, Vienna, 1871, 2d ed.,
Leipsic, 1877 ; H. Calderwood, Handhooh 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 sittliche Weltordnung, Leipsic, 1 877 ; E. v.
Hartmann (p. 557) ; H. Spencer (p. 581); J. Baumann, Hand-
bach der Moral, Leipsic, 1879 ; B. Carneri, Grundlegung der
Ethik, Vienna, 1881 ; Entwickelung und Gliickseligkeit, Stnttgart,
1886 ; Guyau, Esquisse d'une morale sans obligation ni sanction,
2d ed., Paris, 1881 : W. Schnppe, Grundziige der Ethik und
Eechtsphilosophie, Breslau, 1882 ; W. H. Rolph, Biologische
Probleme, Leipsic, 1882; L. Stephen, 77ie 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, Grundziige der Moral, Leipsic, 1883, 2d ed., 1889 ;
Engl. tr. by S. Coit ; T. Fowler, Progressive Morcdity, London,
1884, 2d ed., 1895 ; Fowler and Wilson, Principles of Morality,
1886-1887, 2d ed., 1894; A. Dorner, System derckristlichen Sitfen-
lehre, Berlin, 1885 ; H. Steinthal, Allgemeine Ethik, Berlin, 1885 ;

BIBLIOGRAPHY G09

P. Rt'e, Die Enfstehimg des Gewissens, Berlin, 1S85 ; S. S. Laurie,
Ethicn, London, I880 ; N. Porter, EJenwiiti, of Moral Science,
New York, I880 ; J. Martineau, Tijpes oj Ethical Theory^ 2 vols.,
London, 1885, 3d ed., 1891; C. Sigwart, Vorfragen der Ethik,
Freiburg, 188G; W. "Wundt (p. 08G) ; F. Tonnies, Gemeinschaft
und Gesellschaft, Leipsic, 1887 ; H. liolVding, Ethik, German
trausl. by F. Bendixen, Leipsic, 1887; F. Nietzsche, Zur Gene-
alogie der Morcd, Berlin, 1887, 2d ed., 1887 ; J. G. Schuriuan,
The Ethical Import of Darwinism, New York, 1887 ; G. Rlimelin,
Reden und Aiifsdtze, Freiburg, 1888 ; Martensen, Die christliche
Ethik, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1872-78; Engl, trausl. in 3 vols.,
1873-83 ; A. Doriug, Philosophische Gilterhhre, Berlin, 1888 ;
S. Alexander, Moral Order and J'rogress, London, 1889 ;
F. Paulsen, iSystem der Ethik, Berlin, 1889, 4tb ed., 1895;
H. Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, Freiburg,
i. B., 1889; F. Breutano, Vom Ursprung sittUcher Erkennt-
niss, Leipsic, 1889 ; Tb. Ziegler, SittUches Sein mid sittliches
Werden, Strasburg, 1890 ; J. S. Mackenzie, Introduction to
Social Philosnphjf, London, 1890; A 3Iamial of Ethics, New
York, 2d ed., 1895; J. Dewey, Outlines of a Critical Theory
of Ethics, New York, 1891 ; II. Gallwitz, Das Problem der Ethik
in der Gegenwart, Leipsic, 1891 ; G. Runzc, Ethik, vol. I., Prak-
tische Ethik, Berlin, 1891 ; G. Simmel, Einleitung in die Moral-
wissenschaft, 2 vols., Berlin, 1892-93 ; B. P. Bowne, The Prin-
ciples of Ethics, New York, 1892; N. Smytli, Christian Ethics,
New York, 1892; C. M. Williams, A Review of the Systems of
Ethics founded on Evolution, New York and London, 1893;
Til. Elsenliaus, Wesen und Entstehung des Gewissens, Leipsic,
1894; D. G. Ritchie, iVrt/Mra^ Rights, New York and London,
1895; J. Sctli, yl Study of Ethical Prinrijtles, Edinbiiri:li and
London, 2d ed., 1890. — v. Oettingoii, Moral-Sfatisfik, Itli ed.,
Berlin, 1887; Morselli. Suicide (Int. Sc. Series). — \Y. H Lecky,
A History of European Morals, 2 vols., London, 1859, 3d ed.,
1877, an<l L. Schmidt, Die Ethik der alten Grie h^n, lierlin,
1882, are liistories of customs. — On the histttry of ethi«'s see the
works of Zicgh-r, Kostlin, Liithardt (cited in noto C, p. 8), G.-iss,
Zifgler, Luthardt (p. 9, nol«! 2) ; Vorliiinlcr. Ma kintosh, .lodl
(p. 12, note 11), Sidgwick (p. 15. nott; 9^ .lamt (p. I I, iwlc 7;

010 BIBLIOGRAPHY

p. 15, note 9), and W. Wliewell, History of Moral Science,
Edinburffh, 18G3 ; A. Guyau, La morale anylaise cmitemporaine,
Paris, 1879.

Aesthetics : F. Th. Vischer, Aesthetih, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1846-57 ;
H. Taine, Philosophie de Vart, Paris, 18G5 ; Engl, trans, by Du-
rand, 2d ed., 1873; H. Siebeck, Das Wesen der aesthetischen
Anschauung, Berlin, 1875; H. Lotze, Grundzilge der Aesihetik,
Leipsic, 1884; Engl. tr. by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1884; Guyau,
Les proUemes de Vestlietique contemporaine, Paris, 1884; E. v.
Hartmann, I. Die deiitsche Aesthetik seit Kant, Leipsic, 1886;
II. Die Philosophie des Schonen, 1887 ; H. Stein, Die Entstehiing
derneueren Aesthetik, Stuttgart, 1886; H. Cohen, Kant' s Begriin-
dung der Aesthetik, Berlin, 1889; Monrad, Aesthetik, Christiania,
1889 ; K. Kostlin, Prolegomena zur Aesthetik, Tubingen, 1889 ;
Th. lA^^^, Aestlietische 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, Einleitung in die Aesthetik, Heidelberg, 1892; L. Arrcat,
Psychologie du peintre, Paris, 1892; B. Bosanquet, The History of
Aesthetics, London and New York, 1892 ; W. R. Marshall, Pleas-
ure, Pain, and Aesthetics, London and New York, 1894; Hirth,
Die Physiologic der Kimst.

Philosophy of Religion: Scholten (p. 15), O. Pfleiderer (p. 12,
note 11; vol. 11. , Genetische spekulative Religionsphilosophie) \

A. Reville, Prolegomenes 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 ; J. Kaftan, Das Wesen
de^christlichen Religion, Basel, 1881, 2d ed., 1888; C. P. Tiele,
Outlines of the History of Religion, London, 1884, 2d ed., 1888;

B. Plinjer, Grimdriss der Religionsphilosophie, Braunschweig,
1886 (see also p. 12, note 11); W. Bender, Das Wesen der Re-
ligion, etc., Bonn, 1886; Chantepie de la Saussaye, Lehrbuch der
ReUgionsgeschichte, 2 vols., Freiburg i. B., 1887-89 ; Engl. tr. by
B. Ferguson, London, 1891 ; L. W. Rauwenhoff, Religionsphi^
losophie, German transl. by J. R. Hanne, Braunschweig, 1889;
K. Kostlin, Der Ursprung der Religion, 1890; J. G. Schurman,

BIBLIOGRAPHY 611

Belief in God, New York, 1890 ; Agnosticism and Religion, 1896 ;
E. Caird, The Evolution of Religion, 2 vols., London and New-
York, 1893 ; and Max Muller's Lectures on the Origin and Growth
of Religion.

Philosophy of History : C. Hermann, Die Fhilosophie der
Geschichte, Leipsic, 1870; Bernheim, Geschichtsforschiing und
Geschichtsphilosophie, 1880 ; W. Dilthey, Einleitung in die Geistes-
wissenschaften, Leipsic, 1883 ; A. Dippe, Das Gesckichtsstudiian
init seinen Zielen und Fragen, 1891 ; G. Simmel, Die Prohleme der
Geschichtsphilosophie, Berlin, 1892; Droysen, Grundriss der His-
torik, Engl, tr., I'he 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,
Political Science ; Coulanges, La cite cmtique ; Denis, Theories
et idees morales dans Vantiquite ; Donisthorpe, Individualism, a
System of Politics ; Hearn, Aryan Household; Holland, Juris-
prudence ; Laveleye, De la propriete et de ses formes primitives ;
Lieber, Manual of Political Ethics; Lioy, Delia flosofa del
diritto (translated) ; Maine, Early History of Institutions ; Ancient
Laic and Customs ; Miller, Philosophy of Law ; Mohl, Encyclo-
pedie der Staatswissenschaften ; Pollock, Essays in Jurisprudence
and Ethics ; History of the Science of Politics ; Puchta, Outlines
of Jurisprudence ; Schiiffle, Bau und Leben 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 ; Westermarck, The Histoi-y
of Human Marriage. — Tr.]

INDEX

[The asterisk indicates the important places in which authors or subjects
are treated; n. 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.

Adamson, 481 n. 1, 434 u. 2.

Adickes, 434 n. 2, 435 n. 3.

Aenesidemus, 153* ff, 378 u. 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. I.

Agrippa of Nettesheim, 266*.

Agrippa tlie .Sceptic, 158.

Ahrens, 587* n. 4.

Alanus ab insulis, 231* 235.

Alaux, 15.

All)ee, 390 n. 2, 391 n. 2.

Albert the Great, 236, 240* f., 250 f.

Alberti, 63 n. 1, 283 n. 3.

Alciuous, 160.

Akuin, 201*.

Alexander of Aphrodisias, 166* 269.

Alexander the Great, 105.

Alexander of Hales, 239*.

Alexander, S., 609.

Alexandre, 263 n. 1.

Alexandria, 160 ff.

Alfaral)!, 216 n. 2.

Algazel, 216 n. 2.

Alkfiidi, 216 n. 2.

Alley tie, 4 n. 2.

Alzog, 9 n. 2.

Amalrir. 234 f.

Ammonins S,icr-;in, 166*.

Analytic judgments, 438 ff.

'Avd/J-vna-ts, Plato's 98.

Anaxagoras, 5, 48* ff., 60, 95, 118, 412
n. 1.

Anaximander, 22* f., 45 n. 2, 412 u. 1.

Anaximenes, 23.

Ancona, 291 n. 2.

Andrews, 611.

Augelus Politianus, 263 f.

Animal psychology, bibliography of,
607.

Auue'e 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. I, 474 n. 1.

ApoUonius of Perga, 161.

Apuleius, 166.

Arabians, 2.33, 236.

Arabian schools, 210 n. 3.

Arcesilans, 104, 150 f.

Archelans, 54 f.

Archimedes, 160.

Ariaiiism. 190.

Aristarcbus, 160,

Aristippus, 70, 71* f., 152, 378 n. 1.

Arist<»j)hanos, 64.

Aristotle, 5, 6, 20, 73, 82, 102, 104* ff.,
234. 385, 588, 604 ; his astronomy,
120 f. ; and Catholicism. 123 f. ; ami
the Pburch, 237 ; his concept of im-
iiiirtalitN', 128 ff., of mnttor, 112 ff..
of motion, space, and time, 118 ff..

INDEX

of philosophy, 107 f., of soul, 125 ff. ;
his critique of materialism, 110, of
Plato's idealism, lO'J f. ; his ethics,
131 ff. ; his gods, 122 f . ; his meta-
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. ; his
theology, 114 f . ; and scholasticism,
222 ff., 235 ff.

Aristoxeuus, 133.

Armstroug, 12 n. 11.

Arnauld, 318* 322.

Aruobius, 186.

Arre'at, 610.

Arriauus, 146 n. 1, 147.

Arystillus, 161.

Asse'zat, 412 n. 2.

Ast, 76 u. 1, n. 2.

Athauasius, 187.

Atheuagoras, 187.

Atomism, 1 u. 1 ; and teleology, 95.

Atomists, Greek, 55 ff.

Atticus, 139, 166.

Auerbach, 323 n. 1.

Augustine, 6, 9, 187, 188* ff., 215, 224,
322, 493 n. 1 ; his determinism, 196
ff. ; his doctrine of creation, 190 ff. ;
his ethics, 196 ff. ; his p.?ychology,
192 ff. ; his theology, 189 ff.

Augustinianism, 322.

Avempace, 210 n. 2.

Avenarius, 586 n. 7.

Averroes, 9, 210 n. 2.

Avicebron, 210 n. 2.

Avicenna, 210 n. 2.

Baader, 278 n. 6, 488, 589*.

Bach, 260, n. 2.

Bacon, F., 3, 11, 273, 295* ff., 304, 389,

594.
Bacon, B., 3, 9, 258*.
Bahnsen, 557* n. 1.
Baumker, 9 n. 2, 93 n. 1.
Bailey, 581* n. 3.
Baillet, 305 n. 1 .
Bain, 104 n. 4, 581 n. 2, 581* n. 3, 605,

606, 608.
Baiter, 76 n. 2.

Baldachini, 291 n. 2.

Baldwin, 535 n. 2, 607.

Barach, 219 n. 2, 226 n. 3.

Barbarus, Ilermolaus, 263*.

Barchou de Peuhoen, 12.

Bardili, 473*.

Barlaam, 262.

Barratt, 608.

Bartholmess, 12, 286 n. 2, 399 n. 1, GOi

Basil the Great, 187.

Batteux, 133 n. 1.

Baumann, 12 n. 11, 15 n. 9.

Baumgarten, 369* n. 1.

Baur, 9 u. 2, 148 n. 1, 185 n. 1, 5.33*.

Bautain, 589*.

Bax, 436 n. 1, n. 3, 544 n. 5.

Bayle, 13 u. 1, 318*.

Beattie, 431*.

Beaugendre, 211 n. 3.

Beck, 7 n. 4.

Beck, J. S., 577 n. 1.

Beda Venerabilis 201*.

Bekker, 7 n. 5, 76 n. 2, 104 u. 4.

Bekker, B., 318, 321*.

Bembo, 264.

Beuard, 76 u. 2, 487 n. 1.

Bender, 8 u. 6, 610.

Bendixen, 12 n. 11, 609.

Beneke, 542* n. 2.

Benn, 8 n. 6.

Bentham, 391* n. 2.

Berengar, 211*.

Berger, 182 n. 1.

Bergk, 8 n. 6, 24 n. 2, 44 n. 1.

Bergmann, 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.
Bernhard, St., 260*.
Bernhard of Chartres, 226*.
Bernhard of Clairvaux, 223.
Bernhardi, 8 n. 8.
Bernheim, 608.
Bernheim, 611.
Bertholdt, G., 405 n. 1.
Bessarion, 263*, 267.
Biedermann, 12 n. 11.
Biel, 257.

INDEX

615

Biese, 104 n. 4.

Bilfinger, 369* n. 1.

Biudeiuaun, 188 n. 1.

Biuet, 608.

Blampigiion, 320 n. 2.

Blass, 59 n. 1.

Bliud, M., 562 n. 3.

Bluutschli, 12 u. 11, 611.

Boccaccio, 262.

Boetliius, 199* f.

Buhine, J., 10, 199, 278* ff., 488, 589

u. 3.
Buhmer, 324 n. 2.
Bois.>oiiade, 8 u. 2.
Boliugbroke, 39* n. 3.
Bouaventura. 241*.
Bouhufer, 140 u. 1.
Bouifas, 344 u. 1.
Bouitz, 78 u. 1, 104 n. 4, 108 n. 3.
Bonnet, 291, 370 n. 2, 412 f.*
Bordas-Demoulin, 592 n. 2.
Borelius, 533* n. 1.
Bosanquet, 15 n. 9, 497 n. 6, 533* n. 1,

542 u. 2, 605, 610.
Bossuet, 322 n. 1.
Bostroni, 588*.
Bouchitte, 587* n. 4.
Bouillet, 7 u. 2, 157 n. 1. 180 n. 1.
Bouillier, .305 n. 1, -320 u. 2.
Boureau-Deislandes, 13 n. 1.
Bourne, Fox, 370 u. 1.
Bouterwek, 473*.
Boutroux, 590* n. 7.
Bowen, 12 n. 11.
Bower, G. S., 406 n. 2.
Bowne, 581 n. 3, 609.
Bradley, F. 11., 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.

Briefer. 55 n. 3.

Brocliard. 148 n. 2.

Brown, Th'.ma.s, 431* n. 3.

Brucker, 13.

Bruder. 323 n. 1.

Brunuliofer, 286 n. 2.

Bruno, 6, 11, 199, 273, 264 n. 1, 286* S.,

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.
Buddlii.sm, 545, 571.
Buddhism and Pythagoreanismj 3.G n. 1.
Bude, 305 n. 1.
Buffon, 51.
Buhle, 13, 25 u. 1.
Bulliuger, 108 u. 3.
Burchard, 58 n. 1.
Burckhardt, 16 n. 1.
Burdach, 495.
Burgess, 611.
Buridau, 256*.
Burleigh, "Walter, 256*
Burnet, 6 n. 1, 8 n. 6.
Burt, 12 u. 11.
Busot, 399 n. 1.
Butler, 391* n. 2.
Byk, 8 u. 6.
Bywater, 33 n. 1.

Cabalists, 164, 265 ff.

Cabanis, 415* f., 590 n. 5.

Caclicnx, 241 n. 2.

Cae.salpinus, 272* 284.

Caesar, 139. [o73n. 2, 611.

Caird, E., 434 n. 2, 496 n. 3, 533* u. 1,

Caird, J., 323 n. 1, 53.3* n. 1.

Calderwood, 608.

Calvin, 276.

Canierer, 323 n. 1.

Canipanella, 11, .56. 291* ff.

Cantoui, 4.34 n. 2.

Cantor, 159 n. 1.

Capes, 147 u. 4.

Capesius, .535 n. 2.

Cardauus, 10. 267*.

Carneados, 151* f., 430.

Carneri, 008.

Carpf-nter, 606.

Carrii-re. 10 n. 1, 274 n. 6, 588*, 608.

Cartesian .sdiool, 318* ff.

Cams, C. G., 495.

CaruK, F. A., 608.

616

INDEX

Cams, P., 586* n. 7.
Caspari, 542 u. 2.
Cassiodorus, 200*.
Cassias, 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 n. 1, 76

u. 2, 296 n.3.
Clialybaeus, 12, 588*.
Chapman, M. 591 n. 1.
Charcot, 608.

Charles, 258 n.3, 411 u. 1.
Charron, 274*.
Chase, 104 n. 4.
Chasles, 159 n. 1.
Cheselden, 402 n. 1.
Child psychology, bibliography of, 607.
Cliristianity, 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 n. 3.

Collingwood, 562 n. 6.

Collins, A., 391* n. 3.

Collins, W., 391 n. 2.

Colombo, Realdo, 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-
fication of sciences, 576 ff. ; his con-
ception of theology, ruetaphysics, and
science, 574 ff.
Conceptualism, 222 ff.
Condillac, ll,399*ff., 590.
Condorcet, 414*.
Congreve, 573 n. 2.
Conn, 560 n. 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, 611.

Couplaud, 557 n. 1.

Cournot, 574 n. 2.

Cousin, 14, 25 n. 1, 76 n. 2, 182 n. I.
201 n. 3, 222 n. 1, 223, 226 n. 3.
305 n. 1, 322 n. 1, 370 n. 1, 434 n. 2,
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 n. 1.

Crowell, 8 u. 6.

Crusades, 262.

Cudworth, 370*.

Cumberland, 391 n. 2.

Curtis, 370 n. 1.

Cuvier, 564* n. 2.

Cynics, 73* f., 98.

Cyrenaics, 71* f.

Daiixe, 163 n. 1.

D'Ailly, 256*.

D'Alembert, 414*.

Dallas, 562 u. 6.

Damascius, 184 n. 1.

Damiron, 12 n. 11, 317 n. 2, 399 n. 1

Dante, 262.

INDEX

617

Darwin, C, 11, 46, 404 u. 1, 560 u. 1,

5G3* ff., 607.
Darwiu, F., 563 u. 2.
Darwinism, 560* ff.
David of Diuaiit, 234.
Davidson, 104 u. 4.
Davy, 563* n. 5.
Dean, 12 n. 11.
De Bonald, 579.
Debrit, 590 n. 7.
De Garnio, 542 n. 2.
Dege'rando, 13.
Deism, 1 u. 1.
Deists, 391.
Delaiubre, 159 n. 1.
Delame, 7 n. 8.
Del Rio, 587* n. 4.
De ^laistre, 579.
Demaze, 277 n. 3.
Deinocritus, 53* ff., 66, 95 f., 134, 297,

406, 412 u. 1, 594 ff.
Dendy, 605.
Denifle, 9 n. 2.
Denis, 187 n. 2, 611.
Descartes, 6, 192 n. 2, 220 n. I, 305* ff.,

370 f., 378 n. 1, 453, 456, .')37, 591,

594; and French materialism, 411 ;

and Spinoza, 326 f. ; his physics,

313 f. ; his scepticism, 308 f.; his

theory of interaction, 316 f.
Dcsdouits, 434 n. 2.
De.sjardins, 298 n. 2.
Des Maizeaux, 13 n. 1.
Desnoiresterres, 399 n. 1.
Dessoir, 12 n. 11, 608.
Destutt de Tracy, 590* n. 5.
Detmold, 264 n. 2.
Deussen, 15 n. 9, 557* n. 1
Deutiiiger, 9 u. 2.
Devey, 298 n. 1.
Dcwcy, 344 n. 1, 609.
De Witte, 474 n. 1.
Dicaearchus, 133.
Di.hTot, 291, 412* ff., 505.
Dicl.S G n. 4, 8 n. C.
DietfTi(i,2I0 n. 2.
Diirl.y, 296 n. 3.
Dill man, 344 ii. I.
Dilthey, L'74 n G, 611.

Diogenes of ApoUonia, 53* f.

Diogenes of Laerte, 7.

Diogenes of Sinope, 74*.

Diouysius, 199*.

Dippe, 611.

Dixon, 240 u. 2.

Dods, 188 n. 1.

Dogmatism, 1 n. 1.

Donaldson, 9 n. 2.

Douisthorpe, 611.

Doriiig, 609.

Dorner, 188 n. 1, 005, 608.

Douglas, 581 n. 2.

Dourif, 147 n. 4.

Draper, 12 u. 11, 159 n. 1.

DreydorU, 322 n. 1.

Drobiscl), 542* n. 2, 605.

Droysen, 611.

Droz, 322 n. 1.

Drummond, 9 u. 2, 163 n. 1.

Dualism, 1 u. 1 ; Descartes's, 305 ff.

Du Bois-Keymond, 407 u. 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.
Dupuy, 563* n. 5.
Durand, 610.

Durand de Laur, 148 n. 1.
Dutens, 344 n. 1.
Dynamism, 1 n. 1.

Enr.iMiAUi), 473 n. 2.
Kckhart, 199, 260*.
Kckhoff, 435 n. 2.
Eclecticism, Greek, 162 ff.
Ei.slcr, 210 n. 2.
Eleatic philosojihy, 24* fl.
Eleatics, 74, 80, 95, .537.
Eliot, George, 502 n. 3.
Ellis, 104 n. 4, 290 n. 3.
KIscnhans, G09.
Elwes. 323 n. 1.

618

INDEX

Emanation, 190 ff.

Empedocles, 44* ff., GO, 95, 41i u. 1.

Empiricism, 1 u. 1.

Eugel, 433* n. 2.

Eugelhardt, 199 u. 1, 230 n. 2.

Epictetus, 146 n. 1, 148 n. 1, 147,

Epicurus, 73, 75, 134* ff. ; his etliics,
138 f. ; his metaphysics, 135 f . ; his
conception of philosophy, 135 ; his
conception of soul and immortality,
137 f. ; his tlieology, 136 f.

Epistemology, bibliography of, G05 f.

Eratosthenes, 161.

Erdmann, B., 434 u. 2, 435 u. 3.

Erdmann, J., 14, 344 n. 1, .533*.

Erenuius, 166*.

Erigena, Scotus, 9, 199, 201, 204* ff.,
235.

Espiuas, 607.

Essence and Appearance, 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.

Eudffimonism, 75.

Euhemerus, 72*.

Eunapius, 8.

Eusebius, 7.

Everett, 481 n. 1.

Evolution, 560 ff.

Evolution of Man, 570 f.

Exner, 542 n. 2.

Experimental psychology, bibliography
of, 607.

Eyssenhardt, 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.
Fathers, 185* ff.
Faugere, 322 n. 1.
Fechner, G., 588* 606.
Fechner, H. A., 278 n. 6.
Fere', 608.
Ferguson, A., 390*.

Ferguson, 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 Schelling, 488 f.
Fichte, J. H., 4S1 n. 1, 588*.
Ficinus, Marsilius, 1G7 n. 1, 264* f.,

269 n. 1.
Fioreutino, 268 n. 3, 273 n. 1, 286 n. 2.
Fischer, E. L., 605.
Fischer, K., 12, 201 u. 3, 296 n. 3, 474

n. 2, 533* 544 u. 1, 605.
Fiske, 581* n. 3.
Flint, 15 n. 9, 295 n. 1, 611.
Florio, 273 n. 3.
Floss, 205 11. 1.
Fludd, 278*.
Flugel, 542 n. 2.
Fontenelle, 399* n. 1.
Forel, 608.
Forster, 462 u. 2.
Fortlage, 12 n. 11, 146 n. 1.
Foucher de Careil, 305 u. 1, 344 n. 1,

496 u. 3, 544 u. 1.
Fouille'e, 15, 63 n. 1, 76 n. 2, 607.
Fowler, 296 n. 3, 370 n. 1, 390 n. 2, 605

608.
Fracastor, 284*.
Franck, 15, 268 n. 3, 590 n. 3.
Fraser, 370 u. 1, 371 n. 1, 392 n. 5.
Frau&nstadt, 544 n. 1, 557* n. 1.
Frederick II., 3G8 u. 1.
Freethinkers, 390*.
Freret, 63 u. 1.

Freudeuthal, 25 n. 1, 296 n. 3.
Fries, A. de, 370 n. 1.
Fries, J. F., 474*.
Frisch, 283 n. 3.
Frith, 286 n. 2.
Froschammer, 590*.
Fulbert, 222.
FuUerton, 323 n. 1.

Gaisford, 8 n. 3, n. 5.

Gale, 180 u. 7, 181 n. 1, 205 n. I.

INDEX

619

Galileo, 160, 283*, 306.
Gallupi, 296 n. 1.
Gallwitz, 609.
Galton, 609.
Garnier, 305 n. 1.
Garve, 390 u. 5, 433 n. 2.
Gass, 9 u. 2, 609.
Gassemli, 274* 306, 318.
Gaunilo, 217, 461.
Gedike, 7 u. 2.
Geel, 59 u. 1.
Geiger, 10 n. 1, 588 u. 6.
Gennadius, 263, 267.
Geuoude, 320 n. 2.
Georgius of Trebizoiid, 263, 267.
Gerhert, 211.
Gerhardt, C. J., 344 u. 1.
Gerhardt, 0. 185 u. 1.
Gerkrath, 274 u. 2.
Gerlaud, 607.
Germain, Sophie, 574 u. 2.
Gersou, 261*.
Gervaise, 199 n. 5.
Geulincx, 318* 320 f.
Gfrorer, 163 u. 1, 286 u. 2, 323 n. I.
Gilbert de la Porree, 227* 235.
Gildeineister, 473 u. 6.
Giles, 201 n. 1, 227 u. 3.
Gioberti, 295 u. 1, 590*.
Gizycki, G., 390 n. 2, 391 n. 2, 608.
Gizycki P., 134 u. 1.
Glaser, lOS n. 3.
Glogau, 305 n. 1.
Gnostics, 164.
Goerenz, 7 n. 2.
Goethals, 251.
Goethe, 76 n. 1.
G(ittling, 74 11. 1.
Goldt>achf-r, 166 u. 2.
GoMfriedrich, 468 n. I.
Gon7,ale.s, 241 n. 2.
(joodwiii, 166 n. 1.
Gordy, 12 n. 8.
GorgiiLS, 32.
Grant, 104 n. 4.
Gnitry, 590*.

Greccf, 370 n. 1, .533* n. 1, 608.
fircek chiircli, 262 ff. : CmU, 17 ff . ;
philoMophy, biiiliograjdiy of, fi ff. and

note.s ; pliilosophy, jieriods and origin
of, 4 n. 5. 17 ff. ; religion, 17 ff.

Green, 434 n. 2, 533 n. 1.

Gregory of Xazianz, 187.

Gregory of Nyssa, 187.

Griesingor, 607.

Grimblot, 487 n. 1.

Grimm, 12 n. 11, 305 u. 1, 600.

Grisebach, 544 n. 1.

Groo.s, 610.

Grote, 8 u. 6, 17 u. 1, 37 n. 2, 63 n. 1,
76 n. 2, 104 u. 4, 133 a. 1,

Grove, 563 u. 5.

Gruber, 573 n. 2.

Griin, 561 n. 1.

Guliraucr, 344 n. 1.

Guruey, 608.

Giiyau, 133 u. 1, 608, 610.

Gwinner, 544 n. 1.

Haas, 148 u. 2.

Ilaeckcl, 560 n. 1, 562* 564 n. 3, 567.

llaeghen, 320 u. 1.

Hagen, 274 u. 6.

Ilaldane, 497 u. 8, 544 u. 3.

llaller, .506 n. 1.

llamann, J. G., 473*.

Hamaiin, O., 560 n. 1.

Hamilton, \V., 430 n. 3, 431* n. 3, 4.

Hammer-Purg.stall, 210 n. 2.

Hanne, 610.

Harms, 12 n. 1 1 , 15 n. 9, 473 n. 5, 606,608.

Harnack, 9 ii. 2, 167 n. 1, 185, u. 1.

Ilarjjf, 59 n. 1.

Harris, 434 n. 2, 496 n. 3, 497 u. 2, 533*

n. 1.
Hart, 55 n. 3.
Harten.stein, 15 n. 9, 344 n. 1, 434 n. 2,

.535 n. 2, 5-J2* n. 2.
Hartley, 406* f.
Harttnann, II, 91 n. 2,496 n. l,542u.2,

557* ff., 560 n. 1, 608, 610.
Harvey, 272, 284*.
Hasse, 211 n. 4.

Hastio. 12 n. 11. 4.16 n. fi, 407 o. 6.
Hatch, 104 M 4. 390 ii. 2.
Haun'au, 9 n. 2.
Haiisratli, 222 n. 1, 562 n 3.
Havet, 322 n. I

620

INDEX

Hayduck, 6 n. 4.

Have, 586 n. 4.

llaym, 487 n. 1, 496 n. 3, 544 n. 1.

Ilazlitt, 273 u. 3.

1 1 earn, 611.

Heath, 296 n. 3.

Hebenstreit, 181 n. 1-

Hedoiiism, Greek, 71*ff., 134 ff.

Heeren, 8 u. 3.

Hegel, 11, 14, 52, 56, 79, 183 u. 1, 202
n. 1, 203 11. 3, 249 n. 1, 264 u. 1, 285
n. 1, 291, 496* ff., 537 f ., 594 ff . ; his
ethics, 514 ff. ; aud Fichte, Kaut, aud
Schelliug, 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.

Heinichen, 7 n. 10.

Heinze, 142 u. 1, 145 n. 1, 163 u. 1, 305
n. 1.

Heitz, 107 n. 1.

Heliocentric theory, 283, 287.

Helinholtz, 563* n. 5, 585* f., 597 u. 1.

Hehnont, 278, 345 n. 1.

Helvetius, 414*.

Henderson, 434 n. 2.

Heraclitus, 6 n. 1, 33* ff., 60, 75, 80,
123, 335, 491 n. 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.

Hibbeu, 605.

Hicetas, 160.

Higginson, 148 n. 1.

Hilfiebert of Lavardin, 211* 225.

Hillcbrand, 544 n. 2.

Hipparclius, 161.

Plippasiis, 37 n. 1, 46.

Hippolytus, 7.

Hirn, 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.
Hoffding, 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 n. 1.
Horwicz, 606.
Hoschel, 8 n. 4.
Hough, 12 n. 8.
Iluber, 9 u. 2, 205 n. 1.
Hiibuer, 7 u. 6.
Huet, 318*.

Hugo of St. Victor, 199, 227 *ff.
Huit, 76 n. 2.
Humboldt, A., 281 n. 2.
Hume, 6, 11, 156, 317, 417* ff., 435,445,

537.
Hussou, 487 u. 1.
Hutcheson, 390*.
Hnxley, 560 u. 1, 563 n. 3.
Hylozoism, 597.
Hypnotism, bibliography of, 608.

Ib\-Topiiail, 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 and, in 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.

lonians, 21 ff.

Isidore of Alexandria, 184 n. 1.

Isidore of Sevilla, 200*.

Israel, A., 278 n. 2.

INDEX

621

JaCKSOX, 146 11. 1.

Jacques, 108 ii. ,5.

Jacohi, 9 ii. 2, 473* 587.

Janiblichus, 181* f.

James, G06.

Janimv, 240 ii. 2.

Jauet, Paul, 14, 15 n. 9, 344 u. 1, 496

n. 3, 562 u. 4, 590 n. 8, 591* n. 1, 608,

609.
Jauet, Pierre, 608.
Jaiisen, 322.
Jebb, 258 ii. 2.
Jerome, 196.
Jevous, 581 n. 2, 605.
Jewish-Greek philosopliy, 163 ff.
Jheriug, 608.
JotU, 12 n. 2, 609.
Joel, K., 65 n. 1, 78 u. 2.
Joel, M., 210 n. 2.
Johu of Damas, 200*.
Jolin of Mercuria, 257*.
John of Salisl)iiry, 227*.
John Pliilopouus, 199*.
Joly, 320 u. 2.
Jones, 542 n. 2.
Jouffroy, 590*.

Jourdain, A., 235 u. 1. 318 n. 8.
Jourdaiu, C, 241 ii. 2, 318 u. 7.
Jowett, 104 u. 4.
Jowett's Plato, 76 n. 2.
Junilt, 260 n 2.

Jurisprudence, hihi.iography of, 611.
Justin the Martyr, 186.
Justinian, 184.

Kai TAN, 55 n. 2, 610.

Kappes, 104 n. 4.

Kant, 6, 17,45n. 1,51, 71, 101,249n. 1
317, 369 n. 1, 378 n. 1, 397 n. 1, 431
434* ff., 495, 537 ff., 542 n. 2, 587
597 ; hi.s aesthetics, 468 ff. ; his anti
nomies, 456 ff. ; his critique of cosmo
lojjical arfrument, 461, of cosmolof^y
456 ff., of judgment, 468 ff., of phy-
sico th(ologi<al argument, 461 f., of
practii'al rea.son, 462 ff., of psychi'l-
ogv, 453 ff., of pure reason, 4'I7 ff.,
of seiiHihility, 440 ff., of understand-
ing, 444 ff. ; his doctrine of idciis, 4 14,

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. ; liis teleology, 468 ff.

Karsten, 24 u. 2, 44 n. 1.

Kaulich, 9 n. 2.

Kedney, 496 u. 3.

Kehrhacii, 434 n. 2, 535 u. 2.

Kemp, 544 n. 3.

Kenyou, 104 n. 4.

Kepler, 160, 283*

Kern, 25 n. 1.

Keynes, 605.

King, Lord, 370 n. 1.

Kirchhoff, A., 167 n 1, 607.

Kirchmann, 15 n. 9, 32.'{ n. 1, 434 n. 2.
583* n. 1.

Kircliuer, C. II., 167 u. 1, 182 n. 1.

Kirchuer, F., 15.

Kleiher, 259 n. 2.

Klett, 65 n. 1.

Knight, 15 n. 9, 610.

Knutzeu, 433* n. 2.

K61)er, 557 n. 1.

Koch, 305 n. 1.

Kochly, 63 n. 1.

Konig, 12 n. 11, 606.

Ivistlin, 8 n. 6, 496 u. 3, 609, 610,

Koi)|), 184 n. 1, 199 n. 3.

Krafft-Khing, 607, 603.

Krause, 587 *f.

Krauth, 392 u. 3.

Krische, 21 n. 1, 148 n. 1.

Kroeger, 481 n. 1.

Krug, 473*.

Kiihlenheck, 287 n. 2, n. 3.

Kiilpe, 607.

Kurella, 12 n. II, 606.

Knssinaul, 607.

Kvacsala, 278 n. 5.

La AS, 583* n. 1.
Lahriula. 63 n. 1
Lachelier, 590* n 7.
Laciiniann, 7 n 1, 55 n 3.
Lactantins, 9, \x(\, I'.Hi.

622

INDEX

Ladd, 4, 542 n. 2, 606, 610.

Laforet, 8 n. 6.

L.tgarde, 286 n. 2.

Lagrange, 11, 399 u. 1.

Limarck, 563*, 565.

Lambert, 433* u. 2.

Lameiinais, 589*.

LaMettrie, 411* f., 317.

Lamothe-Levayer, 274*.

Lancelot, 322.

Land, 320 u. 1, 323 n. I.

Lanfranc, 211*.

Lange, C, 606.

Lange, F. A., 11, 14, 410 ii. 7, 584* f.,
605.

Laugley, 344 n. 1.

Laplace, II, 51, 399 n. 1.

Laromigiiiere, 590 n. 5.

Lasalle, 33 u. 1, 296 n. 3.

Lassou, 260 n. 2, 2S7 n. 1, 298 u. 2.

Lasswitz, 12 n. 11, 437 u. 1.

Laugel, 37 u. 2.

Laureutius Valla, 263*.

Laiiret, 581 n. 2.

Laurie, 8 n. 6, 9 u. 2, 608.

Laveleye, 611.

Lavoisier, 407 n. 2.

Law, 278 u. 6.

Lazarus, 542* n. 2, 606.

Leehler, 12 n. 11, 391 n. 3.

Lecky, 9 n. 2, 12 u. 1, 609.

Le Cierc, 7 n. 2, 273 n. 3.

Leferon, 239 n. 2.

Leferriere, 140 n. 1.

Letevre, 15.

Lehmann, 607.

Lehnerdt, 10 n. 1.

Lehrs, 8 n. 6, 17 n. 1.

Leibniz, 6, 11, 113 n. 3, 130 n. .3, 291,
293 n. 2, 343* £f., 370 n. 2, 372 n. 2,
382, 386, 390, 404, 435, 456, 538, 591,
594 ff. ; and Cartesianism, 353 ff. ; and
the Cartesians, 346 ff. ; his determin-
ism, 359 f., 364 ff. ; his doctrine of
force, 346 ff. ; his doctrine of immor-
tality, 353 f . ; his doctrine of pre-estab-
lished harmony, 349 ff. ; his notion of
reciprocal action, 3.)3 ff. ; his rational-
ism, 363 f. ; and Ficlite, 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 unconscious perceptions, 345 f. ;
WoltHau philosophy and, 433* n. 2.

Lemaire, 7 u. 1.

Leo X., 264.

Leontinus Pilatus, 262.

Lerou.x, 533 n. 1, 592 u. 2.

Lessing, 369 u. 1, 433* u. 2, 475.

Leucippus, 55*.

Le'vy-Bruhl, 473 u. 5.

Lewes, 15, 104 u. 4, 581* a. 3.

Lewis, 607.

L'Herbette, 574 u. 2.

Liard, 55 u. 3, 606.

Lieber, 611.

Liebig, 298 u. 2.

Liebnaann, 434 n. 1, 584 n. 2.

Liebner, 227 u. 5.

Liegeois, 608.

Liepmanu, 55 u. 3.

Lightfoot, 148 n. 1.

Linde, van der, 323 n. 1.

Lindner, 542 n. 2.

Linnaeus, 564.

Lioy, 611.

Lipps, 600 n. 1, 606, 610.

Lipsius, 185 n. 1, 274*

Littre, 573 n. 2, 574*.

Lobeck, 19 n. 3.

Locke, 6, 11, 130 n. 3, 253, 317, 366,
370* ff., 391 f. ; his faculties of uu.
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. ;
his free will, 381 f. ; his philosophy
of language, 384 f. ; his primary and
secondary qualities, 378 ff. ; his doc-
trine of substance, 383 f. ; his simple
and complex ideas, 376 ff. ; his theory
of space, 385 ff.

Logic, bibliography of, 605 f.

Lommatzsch, 7 n. 8.

Long, 148 u. 1.

Longinus, 166*.

Lotze, 542* n. 2, 588* 605, 606, 610.

<?•

INDEX

623

Lowe, 217 n. 2, 481 n. l.

Lijwenthal, 573.

Lowndes, 305 n. 1.

Lowndes, M., 606.

Lowrey, 370 u. 2.

Lubbock, 607.

Lucas, 323 u. 1.

Lucretius. 7, 55* 134 n. 1, 139.

Ludovici, 369* u. 1.

Lullus, Kayiuuudus, 9, 259* 2S7.

Luptou, 199 n. 1.

Lutliardt, 8 u. 6, 9 n. 2, 609.

Luther, 276.

Lutoslawski, 286 n. 2.

Lyell, 564* n. 1.

Lyng, 5.33* u. 1.

Lyon, 301 u. 1, 398 n. 3.

Macchiavklli, 264* n. 2.

Mackenzie, 609.

Mackie, 344 n. 1.

Mackintosh, 12 n. 11, 391 u. 2, 609

Mucull, 148 n. 2.

Magellan, 282.

Magic, 265 ff.

Maguin, 205 n. 2.

Mahaff}', 8 n. 6, 12 n. 8, 305 n. 1, 435

n. 3, 436 n. 1.
Maiinon, 473*.
Maimonides, 210 n. 2.
Maine, 611.

Maine de Biran. 589 n. 2, 590*. 601.
Mainlriniler, 557* n. 1.
Malebranrhe, 11, 195, ."ilS* 320* f.,

.333, 370 n. 2, 391 f., 398 n. 3.
Mall'-t, 22 n. 1, 74 n. 2.
Maniiani, 295 n. 1.
Mandevillc, 414*.
Mansel. 185 n. 1.
Marcianus Capella, 199*.
Manns Aurelius, 146 n. 1, 147, 148 n. 1.
Mariano, 286 n. 2, 295 n. 1.
Marinns. 182 n. 1, 184 n. 1.
Marion, 370 n. 1.
Marsh.'ill, II. R., 610.
.Mar'diall, .!., 8 n. 6. •
Mar-ilins Ficinns, see Ficinun.
MarHiliuM of Inghen, 256*.

Martensen, 609.

Martha, 151 u. 1.

Martineau, H., 573 u. 2.

Martiueau, J., 323 u. 1, 609.

Martins, 563 n. 1.

Massol, 467 u. 1.

Masson, 55 u. 2, 562 u. 4.

Materialism, 1 note 1 ; cighteentli cen
tury, 404ff. ; German, 560 ff. ; Greek,
55 "ff., 75 ; of Ilobbcs, 301 f. ; and
sensationalism, 402 n. 2.

Matter, 185 n. 1, 166 n. 3.

Matter, I'lato's conception of, 92 ff.

Maudsley, 606.

Manpertnis, 399* n. 1.

Maximus the Confessor, 199*

Maxwell, J., 391 u.2.

Mayer, 563* u. 5.

Mayor, 8 n. 6.

Mayr, 399 u. 1.

McCosh, 430 n. 3, 431 n. 3.

Mechanism, 1 n. 1.

MediiBval philosuj)hy, 5, 185* ff. ; bibli-
ography of, 9 ff. and notes.

Megarians, 74* f.

Meiklojohn, 435 n.3.

Meineke. 8 n. 3.

Melancthon, 278.

Melissns, 30* f.

Mendelssohn, 369 n. 1, 433* n. 2.

Menzies, 12 n. 11.

Merz, 344 n. 1 .

Me.slier, 411.

Meyer, 324 n. 1.

Meynert, 607.

Michaud. 221 n. 1.

Michclet, 12, 108 n. 3, 5.3.3*.

-Middleman, 10 n. 1.

Migne, 9 n. 1, 188 n. 1.

.Vlignet, 487 n. 1.

Mill, J. S., 11, 431 n. 4, 573 n. 2, 574,
5S1* ff., 605, 008.

Miller, 611.

Miller, K., 7 n. 9.

.Millet, 305 n. 1.

Minil, 5S6 n. 7.

Minto, 605.

Miral)aiid, 414.

Miidcr;itns, 165.

624

INDEX

Modern philosophy, 286 if. ; hibliogra-

phy of, 1 1 ff . aud uotes.
MOller, 185 u. 1.
Mohl, 611.
Moleschott, 562*
Moleswortli, 301 u. I.
Moll, 608.
Mollet, 391.
Mouad, 348 ff.
Mouchamp, 317 n. 2.
Monism, 1 u. 1, 560 ff., 596 ff. ; Plato's,

101.
Monist, 586 n. 7.
Monrad, 12 u. 11, 533* n. 1, 610.
Moutaigiie, 273* f., 296 u. 3, 308, 322

n. 1.
Montesquieu, 11.
Moutucia, 159 u. 1.
Morgan, L., 560 n. 1, 607.
Morgan, T., 391* n. 3.
Moriu, 467 n. 1.

Morley, 104 n. 4, 399 n. 1,412 n. 2.
Morris, 15 n. 9, 437 n. 1, 496 n. 3.
Morselli, 609.
Moser, 167 n. 1.
Moulinie', 563 n. 3.
Mijller, H., 76 n. 2, 318 n. 6.
Miiller, K. O., 8 n. 6.
Miiller, M., 435 u. 3, 611.
Miinsterberg, 606, 609.
Muirhead, 15 n. 9.
Mullach, 6 n. 1, 8 u. 6.
Munck, 78 n. 1, 210 n. 2, 265 n. 1.
Munro, 7 n. 1, 55 n. 2.
Mysticism, 259 ff., 493 n. 1 ; medieval,

227 ff. ; Plato's, 91.

Nahlowskt, 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-Platouism, 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

Church, 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, 320n. 2.
Oman, 587 n. 2.
Ontological Argument, Auselmus's,

217; Descartes's, 310 f. ; Kant's cri

tique of, 461.
Ontology, 1 u. 1.
Oordt, Van, 76 n. 2-
Opel, 278 n. 2.
Orelli, 76n. 2.
Origan, 7, 9, 187* 191.
Orpheus, 1, 9.
Oswald, 431*.
Oxenford, 296 n. 3

Palet, 391* n. 2.
Panietius, 147.
Panentlieism, 588.
Panlogism, 249 n. 1.
Pantheism, 1 n. 1, 233 f., 597.

INDEX

625

Panthelism, 249 a. 1.

Panzerbieter, 5.3 n. 3.

Paracelsus, 267*.

Parmenides, 5, 26* ff., 74 f ., 335, 538, 596.

Parthey, 181 u. 1.

Pascal, 306, 322*, 463.

Pater, 76 n. 2.

Patrick, 33u. 1.

Patristic, 185ff.

Patrizzi, 273*.

Paul, Kegan,322n. 1.

Paulsen, 4, 1 2 u. 11 , 1 5 u. 9, ! 7 n. 2, 434

n. 2, 588* n. 8, 609.
Paulus, 323 n. I.
Pearson, 140 n. 2.
Peip. 278 n. 6.
Pelagianisiii, 248 f.
Pelagians, 197.
Pellissier, 263 n. 1.
Perez, 607.

Peripateticism, 210 n. 2, 235 £f., 597.
Peripatetics, 105, 267 ff.
Perry, 12 n. 11.
Pesciiel, 10 M. 1, 281 n. 2, 607.
Peter the Lombard, 9, 232* f., 239.
Peter the Venerable, 223.
Peters, 104 n. 4.
Petrarch, 262.
Peyron, 44 n. 1.
Pfleiderer, E., 33 n. 1, 320 n. 1, 344 u. 1,

437 n. 1.
Pfleiderer, 0., 9 n. 2, 12 n. U, 610.
Phado, 75.
Phelps, 12 n. 11.

Phenomenon, Kant's definition of, 449 f.
Pherecydes, 19,38.
Philo, 163* f.
Philolau.-^, 37.

Philosophical .Journal.'?, 15 n. 9.
Photius, 8, 200*.
Physico-tlieological argument, Kaut'8

critique of, 461 f.
Pico, 265*, 272.
Pierron, 104 n 4.
Pillr.n, 320 n. 2, 584* n. }.
Pindar, 19.
Platner, 4.33* n. 2.
Plato, 5 f., 46 n. 2, 50, 65, 70, 75 * ff.. 105,

109, 112,134,150 l>r5 (1,385, t.lOu. 2,

451 n.3,491 ;;.5, 493 n. 1,538,594 ff. ;
his ethics. 9S ff. ; antl geometry, 80 f. ;
his uiytlis, 79 ; his piiilosopiiy of
nature, 91 ff. ; his doctriue of pro-
e.xisteuce, 98 ; his rationalism, 89 ff. ;
his psyciiology, 97 f. ; iiis realism, 82
ff., 101 ff. ; his teleology, 95 ff . ; hie
theulogv, 88 f. ; his theory of state,
99 ff. "

Platonic .\cademy in Florence, 263 f.

Platoiiisin. Christian, 185 ff.; and medi-
a.'val I'eripateticism, 235 ff. ; and Scho-
histicisiii, 219 ff.

Pletiio, 203* 267.

Plinv, 139.

Plotiiius, 7, 46 u. 2,56, 91, 167* ff., 347,
493 u. 1, 496 n. 2 ; ids ethics, 176 ff. ;
his tlieology, 168 ff. ; liis theory of
emanation, 171 ff. ; his tlieory 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.

Porphyry, 7, 37 u. 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 u. 9, 106 n. 2, 146 u. 1, 106
n. 2, 199 n. 5, 53.3*, 606.

Pre-existence, Plato's doctrine of, 9rt.

Preger, 227 n. 5.

Preller. 6 n. 1. 8 n. 6, 17 n. I.

Pre8sens(5, 9 n. 2.

Pre'vost, 305 n. 3.

Pn-vost-I'aradol, 273 n. 3.

Preyer, 607.

Prie.stley, 407* ff.

Primary (|u:i!itic.H, 404, 4.30; and second
ary <|ii.iliti(M, 37s f.. 392.

Probaliilisin, (iriM-k, J 59.

Prochw, 8, 182» f.. 1H4 n. I.

Pruta-oKW. 5, 59* ff , CO, 71, 158

626

INDEX

ff. ;

610.

and
120

I'rotois, 232 n. 2.
rroudhon, 467 n. 1, 533 ii 1.
Psychiatry, bibliograpliy of, 607 f.
Psychology, bibliography of, 006

Kant's critique of, 453 ff.
Ptolemy, 160 f.
Puchta^ll.

Punjer, 12 n. 11, 462 n. 2,573 n. 2,
Pyrrho, 149* 308, 378 n. 1.
Pyrrhonism, 148 ff.
Pytliagoras, 20, 38* ff., 56, 69 ;

"Biuldha, 38 n. 1.
Pythagoreans, 37* ff., 75, 80, 95 f.,
n. 2, 160.

QuADRiviUM, 200 n. 2.

Ramus, 10, 277 * f.

Kanke, 607.

Ectspe, 344 n. 1.

nationalism, 1 n. 1.

Raiiweuhoff, 610.

Ravaisson, 108 n. 3, 140 n. I, 146 n. 1,
590* n. 7, 601.

Pawley, W., 296 n. 3.

Raymond of Sabunde, 259*.

Ravmundus 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.

Re'e, 608.

Reformation, 274 ff.

Regius, Sylvain, 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.
Reinach, 78 n. 2.
Reinhold, 474,*475.
Rein-ivald, 233.

Religion, bibliography of philosophy
of, 610 f.; origin of, 17 n. 2.

Remusat, 12 n. 11, 211 n. 4, 222 n. 7,

296 n. 3.
Kcuaissance, 261 ff. ; bibliograpliy of,

10 n. 1.
Henan, 148 n. 1, 210 n. 2, 586.
Kenouvier, 14, 584* n. 1.
Re'thore, 399 n. 2.
Retrogression in evolution, 567.
Keuchlin, 265* 318 n. 8.
Renter, 9 n. 2.

Keville, 15 n. 1, 163 n. 1, 610.
Hevue positive, 574 n. 1 ; philosophique,

586 n. 7.
Riaux, 296 u. 3.
Kibbeck, 148 u. 1.
Kibot, 535 n. 2, 542 u. 2, 544 n. 1, 581

n. 3, 584, 5S6* u. 7, 608.
Richard of St. Victor, 230 * f.
Richardson, 8 n. 6.
Kichter, 163 u. 1, 167 n. 1.
Uiehl, 434 n. 2.
Ritchie, 609.
Ritschl, 9 u. 2.
Ritter, 6 n. 1, 8 u. 6, 9 n. 2, 12, 14, 21

n. 1, 37 n. 2 ; and Preller, 8 n. 8.
Rivista di filosofia, 586 n. 7.
Rixner, 267 n. 1.
Robert of Lincoln, 236.
Robert of Melun, 231* f.
Robert Pulleyn, 232 *.
Robertsc»i, 104 n. 4, 301 n. 1.
Roberty, 12 n. 11.
Robinet, 412*, 565.
Roth, 4, 8 n. 6, 473 n. 6.
Rohde, 8 n. 6.
Rolph, 608.
Roman 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 *.
Rosmini-Serbate, 104 n. 4, 295 n I,

590*.
Roussellot, 9 n. 2.
Rovce, 12 n. 11, 497 n. 1.
Royer-Collard, 590 *.
Rumelin, 609.

INDEX

627

Ruuze, 609.
Russel, 371 u. 2.
Ruysbroek, 230 u. 2.

Sainte-Bkive, 318 n. 8.

Saiut-Germaiu, 305 u. 1.

Saint-Hilaire, B., 104 u. 4, 108 n. 3.

Saint-IIilaire, G., 565.

8t. Johu, 370 n. 1.

St. Martha, 200 u. 1.

St. Martin, 278 u. 6.

St. Paul, 147, 177 n. 2, 178 n. 2, 194.

St. Reue Taillaudier, 205 ii. 1.

Saiut-Simon, 574 u. 2.

Saiutes, 323 n. 1, 434 n. 2.

Saiutsbury, 273 n. 3.

Saisset, 153 u. 2, 317 n. 2, 323 n. 1, 434
u. 2.

Salzinf!;er, 259 n. 1.

Sauchez, 274*.

Sauuders, 544 u. 5.

Saussaye, Chautepie de la, 610.

Scaliger, 271 *.

Scepticism, 1 n. 1, 253 ; Greek, 148* ff.

Sce{)tics, 537.

Schaarschinidt, 37 n. 2, 76 n. 2, 78 u. 1,
227 n. 3, 305 n. 1, 323 n. 1, 324 u. 2.

Schaffle, 611.

Schaff, 185 n. 1.

Schaller, 12 n. 11.

Schanz, 59 n. 1, 76 n. 2.

Seharj)ff. 264 n. 1.

Schauliacii, 48 n. 2.

Schelliiig, 11, 91, 170 n. 1, 195, 264 n. 1,
482 n. 1, 487* ff., 601 ; aud Fichte,
488 ff. ; and Hegel, 498 f. ; liis nega-
tive philosophy, 488 ff.; his positive
philosopliy, 494 f.

Scherer, 496 n. 3, 586*.

Schiehler, 278 n. 6.

Scliiller, 474*.

Schleicher, 500 n. 1.

Schleiden, 474 n. 1.

Schloierniaclur, 22 n. 1, 23 n. 1, 33 n. 1,
53 n. 3, 70 n. 2, 78 n. 1 , 322 ii. 1 , 587 *.

Schluter, 205 n. 1.

Schinckel, 140 n. I, 148 n. 1.

Kchinid, R., 500 n. 1.
Scliiiiidt, C, 234 n. I, 261 n. 4.

Schmidt, F. X., 277 n. 2.

Schmidt, L., 8 n. 0, 609.

Schmidt, O., 5G0 u. 1.

Schnuihlers, 210 u. 2.

Schneider, Ch., 76 n. 2.

Schneider, G. H., 607.

Schneider, J. G., 6 u. 2, 133 n. 1.

Schneidewiu, 7 n. 9.

Schoenhmk, 406 n. 2.

Schohisticisni, 201 * ff., 297.

Scholten, 15, 610.

Schoohnen, 201 ff.

Schools, 201.

Scliopeniiauer, 11,46, 113 n. 3, 192 u. i,

249, n. 1, 322 n. 1, 445, 491 u. 3, 544*

ff., 594 ff., 601 ; his pessimism, 552 ff. ;

liis 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. H., 495.
Schulcr, 277 n. 1.
Schuller, 324 n. 1.
Schultess, 8 n. 6.
SchuUliess, 277 a. I.
Schultze, 263 n. 1.
Schulze, 473*, 544.
Schuppe, 605, 608.
Schurer, 163 n. 1.
Schurman, 434 n. 2, 462 n. 2, 5G0 n. 1,

609,610.
Schwarz, 606.

Schwcgler, 8 n. 6, 14, 108 u. 3.
Schweighiiusur, 148 u. 1.
Science, Greek, 159 ff. ; modern, 281 ff.
Scotcii i)liilosopliy, 430* ff.
Scotus Duns, .see Duns.
Scotus Krigena, sre Krigena.
Secn'tan, 496 u. 1, 556 n. 1, 589*. 592

n. 2,001.
Sedail, 296 n. 3.
Seleucus, 100.

Seneca, 7, 140 n. 1, 147, 148 n. 1, 225.
Sensationalism, and materialism, 402

n. 2 ; and scei)ticiiim, 152 ff.
Sc])p, 14H n. 2.
Sergi, 006.
1 Servet, 284.

628

INDEX

Seth, A., 12 n. 11, 496 n. 8.

Seth, J., 609.

Sextus Empiricus, 7, 153, 158* f., 308.

Seydel, 544 u. 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 n. 1, 63 n. i, 78 u. 1,

608, 610.
Sieber, 267 n. 1.
Sighart, 240 n. 2.
Sigwart, Chr., 15 n. 9, 267 n. 2, 298 n. 2,

324 n. 2, 605, 609.
Simmel, 609, 611.
Simon, J., 108 n. 3, 166 u. 3, 182 n. 1,

305 n. 1, 318 n. 7, 320 n. 2.
Simon, T, C.,392u. 5.
Simon of Tournay, 234.
Simplicius, 184.
Smith, A., 391*
Smith, M., 536 n. 2.
Smith, W., 481 n. 1.
Smyth, 609.

Sneath, 15 n. 9, 4.30n. 3.
Socher, 78 n. 1.
Socrates, 6, 6.3* ff., 71, 75, 80, 82, 150,

537.
Socratic schools, 71*ff.
Solon, 19.

Sommer, H., 344 n. 1.
Sommer, R., 369 n. 1.
Sophists, 59* ff., 80.
Sophocles, 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, 563n. 2.
Speusippus, 103* f.

Spinoza, 6, 52,91, 192 n. 1, 220 n. 1,32.3*
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 ff. ; his theology,

326 ff. ; his theory of attributes,

329 ff. ; his theory of modes, 334 ff . ;

his theory of passions, 338 ff. ; hia

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 u. 2.
Stanley, 13.
Starr, 608.
Steffens, 495.

Stein, H., 44 n. 1, 71 n. 1, 610.
Stein, L., 140 n. 1, 142 u. 1, 324 n. 1,

344 n. 1, 345 n. 1.
Steiner, 544 n. 1.
Steinthal, 542* n. 2, 606, 608.
Stephen, L., 12 n. 11, 390 n. 2, 608.
Sterrett, 497 n. 4.
Stewart, A., 12 n. 11.
Stewart, D., 431*
Stich, 148 n. 1.
Stilpo, 75, 140.
Stirling, 437 n. 1, 496 n. 3, 533*

n. 1.
Stobaeus, 8.
Stockl, 9 n. 2.
Stoicism, 69, 74, 75, 140* ff., 597 ; and

Christianity, 147.
Stoics, 491 a. 5.
Strato, 133.
Strauss, 399 n. 1, 533* 560 n. 1, 562*

566 ff.
Strumpell, 542* n. 2.
Strufrgle 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.
Supranaturalism, 1 n. 1.
Survival of fitte.st, 566 ff.
Susemihl, 78 n. 1, 140 n. 1.
Symonds, 10 n. 1.
Synthetic judgments, 438 ff.

INDEX

629

Taise, 581 u. 3, 586*. 592 n. 2, 610.

Talaiiio, 201 n. 3.

Tauueiy, 305 n. J.

Tarde, 611.

Tatian, 187.

Tauk-r, 261*.

Taurellus, 10, 277* f.

Tavlor, 167 n. 1, 181 u. 1.

Taylor, T. W., 611.

Tciiihatchef, 298 n. 2.

Teichmiiller, 8 n. 6, 21 n. 1, 33 n. 1, 78
n. 1.

Teleology, 1 n. 1, 564, 566 ff. ; of Kaut,
468 S.] of Plato, 95 £C. ; and Atom-
ism, 95.

Telesio, 273* 287.

Temple, 296 n. 3.

Teuuemaun, 13.

TertuUian, 186, 196,463.

Teteiis, 433* n. 2.

Teuffel, 8 n. 6.

Thales, 5, 20, 21* f.

Theism, 1 d. 1.

Theodoras, 72*.

Theodorus of Gaza, 263, 267.

Theognis, 19.

Theophrastus, 133.

Theo.sophy, 265 £f., 277 ff.

Thilly, 4 n. 1,344 n. 1.

Thilo, 542* n. 2.

Theologv, 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-
hauer and, 545 ; Schulze's critique of,
473 n. 3.

Thoma-s 236, 584 n. 4.

Thomas of Aquin, 9, 202, 241* ff. ;
his determinism, 245 f.

Thomas of IJradwardine, 256*.

Thomas a Kempis, 261*.

Thomas of Straslturg, 256*.

Thiimming, 369* n. 1.

Tiherghien, 587* n. 4.

Tiedemann, 13, 140 u. 1.

Tifdf, 610.

Tille, .557 n. 1,

Time, Kant's <Ioctrino of, 440 ff.

Timocharus, 161.

Timon, 149* f., 152.

Tiudall, 391* n. 3.

Tissot, 322 n. 1.

Titcheuer, 586 n. 3, 607

Tocco, 286 n. 2.

Toland, 391* u. 3 ; his materialism,

405* f.
Tonnies, 301 u. 1, 609.
Torquatus, L., 139.
Torrey, H., 305 u. 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 n. 1.
Trivium, 200 n. 2.
Tufts, 15 n. 9, 468 n. 1.
Turgot, 414*.
Twardowski, 305 n. 1.
Twesteu, 587 n. 2.
Tycho Brahe, 283*
Tyler, 607.
Tyndall, 563* n. 5.

Ueberweg, 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, .5.33* n. 1.

Vaihinger, 437 u. 1, 557 n. 1.

Valat, 59 n. 1.

Valois, 239 n. 2.

Vanini, 272*.

\'asco de Gama, 282.

\'eitch, 305 n. 1, 4:51 n. 4, 605.

Venn, 605.

Vera, 496 n. 3, 515 n. 1, 533* n. 1.

Vesale, 284*.

Vicajcc, 318 n. 7.

Vico, 295* n. 1.

Victorines, 227 ff.

Victo, 284* 300.

Villers, 434 n. 2.

Vincent of Hoauvais, 239* f.

Vinci, Leonanio di, 284*.

630

INDEX

Vinet, 322 n. 1.
Virchow, 563 n. 4, 586*

Viseli, 231 n. 2.

Vischer, 610.

Vitringa, 59 u. 1.

Vlooteu, Vau, 324 u. 2, 323 n. 1.

Vogt, 562, 563 u. 3.

Voigt, 10 n. 1.

Volkelt, 4, 437 n. 1, 557 n. 1.

Volkinauu, R., 166 u. 1, 542- n. 2.

Volkniaiiu, W., 606.

Voluey, 590* n. 5.

Voltaire, 399*.

Vohmtarism, 249 u. 1, 601 ft.

Vorliluder, 12 n. 11, 609.

Wace, 185 n. 1.

Wachsmiith, 149 u. 2.

AVaddiugton, 148 n. 2, 277 n. 3.

Wagner, A., 286 n. 2.

Wagner, R., 557* n. 1.

Waitz, 542* n. 2, 607.

Wallace, A. R., 560 n. I.

Wallace, E., 104 n. 4.

Wallace, W., 133 n. 1, 496 u. 3, 497 u. 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 n. 1.
Weisse, 588*.
Welldon, 104 n. 4.
Wendland, 163 n. 1.
Weudt, 71 n. 1.

Werner, 9 n. 2, 241 u. 1, 241 n. 3
258 n. 3.

Wessel, 261*.

Westermarck, 61 1 .

Weygoldt, 140 n. 1.

Wharton, 104 n. 4.

Whewell, 12 n. 11, 391 n. 2, 609.

White, 323 n. 1.

Wiclif, 359.

Wilbour, 586 n. 5,

Wildauer, 63 n. 1.

Will, 600 ff .

William of Auvergne, 239*.

William of C'hampeaux, 221* ff., 235.

William (.,f Conches, 226* f.

William Durand, 253*.

William of Occam, 253* f.

Williams, 104 n. 4, 609.

Willm, 12.

Willmaun, 15 n. 9, 535 n. 2.

Wilson, 608.

Wimmer, 133 n. 1.

Winckelmanu, 76 n. 2.

Windelband, 8 u. 6, 10.

Wirth, 588*.

Witte, 608, 473 n. 7.

Wolff, 163 n. 1, 368* f., 435.

World-Soul, riato's, 94 f.

Worms, 323 n. 1.

Wundt, 586* 600 u. 1., 601, 605, 600,

608, 609.
Wyttenbach, 167 n. 1.

Xenocrates, 104, 140.
Xeuophanes, 20, 24* ff.
Xeuophon, 6, 65, 67.

Zabarella, 271*.

Zahn, 140 n. 1, 185 n. 1.

Zeitschrift fiir exacte Philosophic,
542 n. 2.

Zeitschrift fiir Philosophic, 542 n. 2,
588 n. 3.

Zeitschrift fiir wissenschaftliche Phi-
losophic, 588 u. 7.

Zeitschrift fiir Volkcrkunde, 542 n. 2.

Zcller, 4, 8 n. 6, 12, 15 n. 9, 19 n. 1,
78 n. 1, 148 n. 1, 277 n. 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.

Ze'vort, 48 n. 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.

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