diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/62663-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62663-0.txt | 12690 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 12690 deletions
diff --git a/old/62663-0.txt b/old/62663-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9d2aa5f..0000000 --- a/old/62663-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12690 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Beginner's History of Philosophy, Vol 2, by -Herbert Ernest Cushman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Beginner's History of Philosophy, Vol 2 - Modern Philosophy - -Author: Herbert Ernest Cushman - -Release Date: July 16, 2020 [EBook #62663] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEGINNER'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY, VOL 2 *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Hulse and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - A BEGINNER’S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY - - - - - ┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ - │ │ - │ Transcriber’s Notes │ - │ │ - │ │ - │ Punctuation has been standardized. │ - │ │ - │ Characters in small caps have been replaced by all caps. │ - │ │ - │ Non-printable characteristics have been given the following │ - │ Italic text: --> _text_ │ - │ emphasized text within │ - │ bold text: --> =text=. │ - │ │ - │ This book was written in a period when many words had │ - │ not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have │ - │ multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in │ - │ the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated │ - │ with a Transcriber’s Note. │ - │ │ - │ The symbol ‘‡’ indicates the description in parenthesis has │ - │ been added to an illustration. This may be needed if there │ - │ is no caption or if the caption does not describe the image │ - │ adequately. │ - │ │ - │ Index references have not been checked for accuracy. │ - │ │ - │ Footnotes are identified in the text with a number in │ - │ brackets [2] and have been accumulated in a single section │ - │ at the end of the text. │ - │ │ - │ Transcriber’s Notes are used when making corrections to the │ - │ text or to provide additional information for the modern │ - │ reader. These notes are identified in the text by a ♦ symbol, │ - │ and are accumulated in a single section at the end of the │ - │ book. │ - └────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ - - - Illustration: IMMANUEL KANT - - (The Puttrich’sche Portrait of Kant was printed in the - _Kant-Studien_ in 1906 and is said by Professor Vaihinger to - be one of the best likenesses of the Königsberg philosopher. - The name of the artist was Puttrich, and the original painting - goes back before 1798. It is interesting to note that this - portrait of Kant was used by the sculptor, Rauch, as his model - for the statue of Kant upon the memorial monument of Frederick - the Great.) - - - - - A BEGINNER’S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY - - - BY - - HERBERT ERNEST CUSHMAN, LL.D., PH.D. - - _Sometime Professor of Philosophy in Tufts College - Lecturer of Philosophy in Harvard College - Lecturer of Philosophy in Dartmouth College_ - - - VOL. II - - MODERN PHILOSOPHY - - - Illustration: (‡ Colophon) - - - BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO - HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY - The Riverside Press Cambridge - - - COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HERBERT ERNEST CUSHMAN - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - - - - PREFACE - - -The pedagogical purpose of this history of philosophy is stated in -the Preface to the first volume. It may be desirable in this place to -restate what that purpose is. - -This book is intended as a text-book for sketch-courses in the history -of philosophy. It is written for the student rather than for the -teacher. It is a history of philosophy upon the background of geography -and of literary and political history. Since the book is intended for -the student, it makes the teacher all the more necessary; for it puts -into the hands of the student an outline of the history of philosophy -and into the hands of the teacher the class-room time for inspiring -the student with his own interpretations. In making use of geographical -maps, contemporary literature, and political history, this book is -merely employing for pedagogical reasons the stock of information -with which the student is furnished, when he begins the history of -philosophy. The summaries, tables, and other generalizations are -employed, as in text-books in other subjects, as helps to the memory. -Therefore the book has the single purpose of arranging and organizing -the material of the history of philosophy for the beginner. - -The student will be impressed with the short time-length of the modern -period compared with the tremendously long stretches of the periods -of antiquity. The modern period is only four hundred and fifty years -in length, if we take the date 1453 as its beginning. Compared to the -twenty-two hundred years of ancient and mediæval life, the period of -modern life seems very short. Furthermore the student who has followed -the philosophy of antiquity must have observed how often philosophy -arose out of ethnic situations in which whole civilizations were -involved. He will find that modern philosophy in this respect stands in -contrast with the philosophy of ancient times. With the decentralizing -of modern Europe, philosophy has also become decentralized. This -does not mean that philosophical movements have included fewer people -in their sweep, but that the movements have had shorter life, the -transitions have been quicker, and the epochs have been briefer. -Modern civilization is subjective; and its philosophy is thereby more -technical, and more difficult to understand and to interpret than the -philosophy of antiquity. - -There are many helpful books in English on the history of modern -philosophy, and the student should have them at hand. I call attention -especially to Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, for its judicious -selection from the original sources; to Royce, _Spirit of Modern -Philosophy_, chapters iii to x; to Eucken, _The Problem of Human -Life_, pp. 303 to 518; and to the Summaries in Windelband, _History -of Philosophy_, Parts IV to VII. Besides these there are valuable -histories of modern philosophy by Falckenberg, Höffding (2 vols.), -Weber, Ueberweg (vol. ii), Calkins, Dewing, and Rogers. - -To friends who have read parts of the manuscript, I desire to -acknowledge my indebtedness for many wise criticisms and suggestions; -especially to Professor W. A. Neilson, Professor R. B. Perry, Dr. B. -A. G. Fuller, and Dr. J. H. Woods of Harvard University; to Professor -Mary W. Calkins of Wellesley College; to Professor W. P. Montague of -Columbia University; and to Professor S. P. Capen of Clark College. - -TUFTS COLLEGE, December, 1910. - - - - - CONTENTS - - VOLUME II. MODERN PHILOSOPHY - (1453 TO THE PRESENT TIME) - - - CHAPTER I. THE CHARACTERISTICS AND DIVISIONS OF THE MODERN - PERIOD 1 - THE DIFFICULTY IN THE STUDY OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY 1 - THE PERIODS OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY 2 - THE CAUSES OF THE DECAY OF THE CIVILIZATION OF THE MIDDLE - AGES 4 - (a) _The Internal Causes_ 4 - (1) The Intellectual Methods were Self-Destructive 4 - (2) The Standard of Truth became a Double Standard 5 - (3) The Development of Mysticism 5 - (4) The Doctrine of Nominalism 5 - (b) _The External Causes_ 6 - - CHAPTER II. THE RENAISSANCE (1453–1690) 8 - THE GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE RENAISSANCE 8 - (a) _The New Man of the Renaissance_ 8 - (b) _The New Universe of the Renaissance_ 9 - (1) The Transformation of the Physical Universe 9 - (2) The Restoration of the World of Antiquity 10 - THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE RENAISSANCE IN HISTORY 11 - MAP SHOWING THE DECENTRALIZATION OF EUROPE 13 - THE TWO PERIODS OF THE RENAISSANCE: THE HUMANISTIC - (1453–1600); THE NATURAL SCIENCE (1600–1690) 15 - (a) _The Similarities of the Two Periods_ 16 - (b) _The Differences of the Two Periods_ 16 - (1) The Countries which participate in the - Renaissance differ in the Two Periods 16 - (2) The Intellectual Standards differ in the Two - Periods 17 - (3) The Scientific Methods in the Two Periods were - Different 18 - (4) The Attitude of the Church toward Science differs - in the Two Periods 19 - A BRIEF CONTRAST OF THE TWO PERIODS――A SUMMARY OF THE - DISCUSSION ABOVE 21 - - CHAPTER III. THE HUMANISTIC PERIOD OF THE RENAISSANCE - (1453–1600) 22 - THE LONG LIST OF REPRESENTATIVES OF THE HUMANISTIC PERIOD 22 - NICOLAS OF CUSA (1401–1464) 24 - PARACELSUS (1493–1541) 25 - GIORDANO BRUNO (1548–1600) 27 - MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF THE CHIEF PHILOSOPHERS OF - THE RENAISSANCE 30 - - CHAPTER IV. THE NATURAL SCIENCE PERIOD OF THE RENAISSANCE - (1600–1690) 31 - THE PHILOSOPHERS OF THE NATURAL SCIENCE PERIOD 31 - THE MATHEMATICAL ASTRONOMERS 32 - GALILEO GALILEI (1564–1641) 36 - THE LIFE OF FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM (1561–1626) 39 - THE POSITION OF BACON IN PHILOSOPHY 39 - THE AIM OF BACON 42 - THE METHOD OF BACON 43 - (a) _Bacon’s Criticism of the Past_ 44 - (b) _Bacon’s Positive Construction_ 45 - THE ENGLISH NATURAL SCIENCE MOVEMENT 46 - THOMAS HOBBES AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES 47 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF HOBBES (1588–1679) 49 - 1. As a Classical Scholar (1588–1628) 49 - 2. As Mathematician (1628–1638) 49 - 3. As Philosopher (1638–1651) 50 - 4. As Controversialist (1651–1668) 50 - 5. As Classical Scholar (1668–1679) 50 - THE INFLUENCES UPON THE THOUGHT OF HOBBES 50 - 1. His Premature Birth 50 - 2. His Father 51 - 3. The New Mathematical Science 52 - THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE IN THE TEACHING OF HOBBES 52 - THE METHOD OF HOBBES 54 - THE KINDS OF BODIES 55 - HOBBES’S APPLICATION OF THE MATHEMATICAL THEORY TO - PSYCHOLOGY 56 - HOBBES’S APPLICATION OF THE MATHEMATICAL THEORY TO - POLITICS 58 - THE RENAISSANCE IN ENGLAND AFTER HOBBES 61 - - CHAPTER V. THE RATIONALISM OF THE NATURAL SCIENCE PERIOD - OF THE RENAISSANCE 62 - THE NATURE OF RATIONALISM 62 - THE MENTAL CONFLICT IN DESCARTES 65 - THE LIFE AND PHILOSOPHICAL WRITINGS OF DESCARTES - (1596–1650) 66 - 1. As Child and Student (1596–1613) 66 - 2. As Traveler (1613–1628) 66 - 3. As Writer (1629–1650) 67 - 4. In Stockholm (1649–1650) 67 - THE TWO CONFLICTING INFLUENCES UPON THE THOUGHT OF - DESCARTES 67 - THE METHOD OF DESCARTES 69 - INDUCTION――PROVISIONAL DOUBT――THE ULTIMATE CERTAINTY OF - CONSCIOUSNESS 70 - DEDUCTION――THE IMPLICATIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS 72 - THE EXISTENCE OF GOD 73 - THE REALITY OF MATTER 75 - GOD AND THE WORLD 77 - THE RELATION OF GOD TO MATTER 77 - THE RELATION OF GOD TO MINDS 78 - THE RELATION OF MIND AND BODY 78 - THE INFLUENCE OF DESCARTES 80 - THE RELATION OF THE OCCASIONALISTS AND SPINOZA TO - DESCARTES 81 - PORTRAIT OF SPINOZA 84 - THE HISTORICAL PLACE OF SPINOZA 84 - THE INFLUENCES UPON SPINOZA 86 - 1. His Jewish Training 86 - 2. His Impulse from the New Science――Descartes’ - Influence 86 - 3. His Acquaintance with the Collegiants 87 - THE LIFE AND PHILOSOPHICAL WRITINGS OF SPINOZA - (1632–1677) 88 - 1. In Israel (1632–1656) 89 - 2. In Retirement (1656–1663) 89 - 3. In the Public Eye (1663–1677) 90 - THE METHOD OF SPINOZA 90 - THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE OF SPINOZA’S PHILOSOPHY 91 - THREE CENTRAL PROBLEMS IN SPINOZA’S TEACHING 93 - THE PANTHEISM OF SPINOZA――THE ALL-INCLUSIVENESS OF GOD 94 - THE MYSTICISM OF SPINOZA 98 - SPINOZA’S DOCTRINE OF SALVATION 102 - SUMMARY OF SPINOZA’S TEACHING 106 - LEIBNITZ AS THE FINISHER OF THE RENAISSANCE AND THE - FORERUNNER OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 107 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF LEIBNITZ (1646–1716) 108 - 1. Leipsic and University Life (1646–1666) 111 - 2. Mainz and Diplomacy (1666–1672) 111 - 3. Paris and Science (1672–1676) 111 - 4. Hanover and Philosophy (1676–1716) 112 - THE THREE INFLUENCES UPON THE THOUGHT OF LEIBNITZ 112 - (1) His Early Classical Studies 112 - (2) The New Science and his own Discoveries 113 - (3) Political Pressure for Religious Reconciliation 114 - THE METHOD OF LEIBNITZ 115 - THE IMMEDIATE PROBLEM FOR LEIBNITZ 118 - THE RESULT OF LEIBNITZ’S EXAMINATION OF THE PRINCIPLES - OF SCIENCE――A PLURALITY OF METAPHYSICAL SUBSTANCES 119 - 1. Leibnitz first scrutinized the Scientific - Conception of Motion 119 - 2. Leibnitz next examined the Scientific Conception of - the Atom 120 - 3. Leibnitz then identified Force with the Metaphysical - Atom 121 - THE DOUBLE NATURE OF THE MONADS 122 - THE TWO FORMS OF LEIBNITZ’S CONCEPTION OF THE UNITY OF - SUBSTANCES 125 - THE INTRINSIC UNITY OF THE MONADS――THE PHILOSOPHICAL - UNITY 125 - THE SUPERIMPOSED UNITY OF THE MONADS――THE THEOLOGICAL - UNITY 129 - - CHAPTER VI. THE ENLIGHTENMENT (1690–1781) 132 - THE EMERGENCE OF THE “NEW MAN”――INDIVIDUALISM 132 - THE PRACTICAL PRESUPPOSITION OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT――THE - INDEPENDENCE OF THE INDIVIDUAL 134 - THE METAPHYSICAL PRESUPPOSITION OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 135 - THE PROBLEMS OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 135 - (a) _Utilitarian Problems_ 136 - (b) _Questions of Criticism_ 138 - A COMPARISON OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT IN ENGLAND, FRANCE, - AND GERMANY 140 - THE MANY GROUPS OF PHILOSOPHERS OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 140 - MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF SOME OF THE INFLUENTIAL - THINKERS OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 144 - - CHAPTER VII. JOHN LOCKE 145 - THE ENLIGHTENMENT IN GREAT BRITAIN 145 - JOHN LOCKE, LIFE AND WRITINGS (1632–1704) 147 - 1. Student Life (1632–1666) 147 - 2. As Politician (1666–1683) 148 - 3. As Philosophical Author (1683–1691) 149 - 4. As Controversialist (1691–1704) 149 - THE SOURCES OF LOCKE’S THOUGHT 150 - 1. His Puritan Ancestry 150 - 2. His Training in Tolerance 150 - 3. The Scientific Influence 151 - 4. The Political Influence 152 - SUMMARY 153 - THE PURPOSE OF LOCKE 153 - TWO SIDES OF LOCKE’S PHILOSOPHY 155 - (a) _The Negative Side――Locke and Scholasticism_ 156 - (b) _The Positive Side――The New Psychology and - Epistemology_ 157 - LOCKE’S PSYCHOLOGY 158 - LOCKE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 160 - LOCKE’S PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY 162 - THE INFLUENCE OF LOCKE 163 - THE ENGLISH DEISTS 164 - THE ENGLISH MORALISTS 166 - CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE ENGLISH MORALISTS 168 - - CHAPTER VIII. BERKELEY AND HUME 169 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF GEORGE BERKELEY (1685–1753) 169 - 1. His Early Training (1685–1707) 169 - 2. As Author (1707–1721) 170 - 3. As Priest and Missionary (1721–1753) 171 - THE INFLUENCES UPON THE THOUGHT OF BERKELEY 172 - THE PURPOSE OF BERKELEY 173 - BERKELEY’S GENERAL RELATION TO LOCKE AND HUME 174 - BERKELEY’S POINTS OF AGREEMENT WITH LOCKE 175 - THE NEGATIVE SIDE OF BERKELEY’S PHILOSOPHY 176 - 1. As shown in General in his Analysis of Abstract - Ideas 177 - 2. As shown in Particular in his Analysis of Matter 177 - THE POSITIVE SIDE OF BERKELEY’S PHILOSOPHY 179 - 1. Esse est Percipi 179 - 2. The Existence of Mind is assumed by Berkeley 180 - 3. Spiritual Substances are Sufficient to explain all - Ideas 181 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF DAVID HUME (1711–1776) 183 - 1. Period of Training (1711–1734) 184 - 2. Period of Philosopher (1734–1752) 185 - 3. Period of Politician (1752–1776) 185 - INFLUENCES UPON THE THOUGHT OF HUME 186 - DOGMATISM, PHENOMENALISM, AND SKEPTICISM 187 - THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS 189 - THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 191 - THE ASSOCIATION OF CONTIGUITY 193 - THE ASSOCIATION OF RESEMBLANCE 194 - 1. Mathematics 194 - 2. The Conception of Substance: Hume’s Attack on - Theology 195 - THE ASSOCIATION OF CAUSATION: HUME’S ATTACK ON SCIENCE 196 - THE EXTENT AND LIMITS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 199 - HUME’S THEORY OF RELIGION AND ETHICS 200 - THE SCOTTISH SCHOOL 201 - - CHAPTER IX. THE ENLIGHTENMENT IN FRANCE AND GERMANY 203 - THE SITUATION IN FRANCE IN THE ENLIGHTENMENT 203 - THE ENGLISH INFLUENCE IN FRANCE 206 - THE TWO PERIODS OF THE FRENCH ENLIGHTENMENT 207 - THE INTELLECTUAL ENLIGHTENMENT (1729–1762)――VOLTAIRE, - MONTESQUIEU, AND THE ENCYCLOPÆDISTS 208 - VOLTAIRE (1694–1778) 209 - THE ENCYCLOPÆDISTS 211 - THE SOCIAL ENLIGHTENMENT (1762–1789) 213 - ROUSSEAU (1712–1778) 213 - THE GERMAN ENLIGHTENMENT (1740–1781) 216 - THE INTRODUCTORY PERIOD (1648–1740). ABSOLUTISM 217 - 1. The Rise of Prussia 218 - 2. The Early German Literature 219 - 3. The Pietistic Movement 219 - 4. The Transformation of Leibnitz’s Rationalism 220 - SUMMARY OF THE LITERARY ENLIGHTENMENT OF GERMANY - (1740–1781) 223 - THE POLITICAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF GERMANY――FREDERICK THE - GREAT 224 - THE COURSE OF THE GERMAN ENLIGHTENMENT 226 - LESSING 228 - - CHAPTER X. KANT 230 - THE CONVERGENCE OF PHILOSOPHICAL INFLUENCES IN GERMANY 230 - THE THREE CHARACTERISTICS OF GERMAN PHILOSOPHY 231 - THE TWO PERIODS OF GERMAN PHILOSOPHY 232 - THE INFLUENCES UPON KANT 233 - 1. Pietism 233 - 2. The Leibnitz-Wolffian Philosophy 233 - 3. The Physics of Newton 234 - 4. The Humanitarianism of Rousseau 234 - 5. The Skepticism of Hume 235 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF KANT (1724–1804) 235 - THE PROBLEM OF KANT 238 - THE METHOD OF KANT 239 - THE THREEFOLD WORLD OF KANT――SUBJECTIVE STATES, - THINGS-IN-THEMSELVES, AND PHENOMENA 240 - THE WORLD OF KNOWLEDGE 243 - THE PLACE OF SYNTHESIS IN KNOWLEDGE 245 - THE JUDGMENTS INDISPENSABLE TO HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 248 - THE PROOF OF THE VALIDITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 252 - 1. In what does the Validity of Sense-♦Perception - consist? 253 - 2. In what does the Validity of the Understanding - consist? 255 - HAS THE REASON BY ITSELF ANY VALIDITY? 260 - THE IDEA OF THE SOUL 262 - THE IDEA OF THE UNIVERSE 264 - THE IDEA OF GOD 265 - CONCLUSION 268 - THE PROBLEM OF THE CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON: THE - ETHICS OF KANT 269 - THE MORAL LAW AND THE TWO QUESTIONS CONCERNING IT 271 - 1. The First Question concerning the Moral Law 272 - 2. The Second Question concerning the Moral Law 273 - THE MORAL POSTULATES 275 - 1. The Postulate of Freedom 276 - 2. The Postulate of the Immortality of the Soul 276 - 3. The Postulate of the Existence of God 276 - - CHAPTER XI. THE GERMAN IDEALISTS 278 - IDEALISM AFTER KANT 278 - FICHTE, SCHELLING, AND HEGEL 279 - MAP SHOWING THE UNIVERSITY TOWNS AND OTHER IMPORTANT - PLACES CONNECTED WITH THE GERMAN IDEALISTS 280 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF FICHTE (1762–1814) 282 - 1. His Education (1762–1790) 283 - 2. Discipleship of Kant (1790–1794) 283 - 3. His Life at Jena (1794–1799) 284 - 4. His Life at Berlin (1799–1814) 284 - THE INFLUENCES UPON FICHTE’S TEACHING 285 - WHY WE PHILOSOPHIZE 286 - THE MORAL AWAKENING 287 - THE CENTRAL PRINCIPLE IN FICHTE’S PHILOSOPHY 288 - THE MORAL WORLD 290 - GOD AND MAN 292 - WHAT A MORAL REALITY INVOLVES 293 - 1. It involves the Consciousness of Something Else 293 - 2. It involves a Contradiction 294 - ROMANTICISM 295 - GOETHE AS A ROMANTICIST 297 - ROMANTICISM IN PHILOSOPHY 299 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SCHELLING (1775–1854) 300 - 1. Earlier Period (1775–1797) 302 - 2. The Philosophy of Nature (1797–1800) 302 - 3. The Transcendental Philosophy (1800–1801) 302 - 4. The Philosophy of Identity (1801–1804) 303 - 5. The Philosophy of Freedom and God (1804–1809) 303 - 6. The Philosophy of Mythology and Revelation - (1809–1854) 303 - A BRIEF COMPARISON OF FICHTE AND SCHELLING AS - PHILOSOPHERS 303 - SCHELLING’S PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE 305 - SCHELLING’S TRANSCENDENTAL PHILOSOPHY 307 - THE SYSTEM OF IDENTITY 310 - SCHELLING’S RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY 311 - HEGEL AND THE CULMINATION OF IDEALISM 312 - WHY HEGEL REMAINS TO-DAY THE REPRESENTATIVE OF KANT 314 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF HEGEL (1770–1831) 315 - 1. Formative Period (1770–1796) 317 - 2. Formulation of his Philosophy (1796–1806) 317 - 3. Development of his Philosophy (1806–1831) 317 - REALISM, MYSTICISM, AND IDEALISM 318 - THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF HEGEL’S IDEALISM 321 - THE COSMIC UNITY 322 - THE COSMIC LAW 326 - HEGEL’S APPLICATION OF HIS THEORY 328 - - CHAPTER XII. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE THING-IN-ITSELF 330 - HERBART AND SCHOPENHAUER 330 - JOHANN FRIEDRICH HERBART 332 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF HERBART (1776–1841) 333 - THE CONTRADICTIONS OF EXPERIENCE 334 - THE ARGUMENT FOR REALISM 334 - THE MANY REALS AND NATURE PHENOMENA 337 - THE SOUL AND MENTAL PHENOMENA 338 - ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER AND HIS PHILOSOPHICAL RELATIONS 340 - THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SCHOPENHAUER (1788–1860) 342 - 1. Period of Education (1788–1813) 343 - 2. Period of Literary Production (1813–1831) 343 - 3. Period of Retirement (1831–1860) 343 - THE INFLUENCES UPON SCHOPENHAUER’S THOUGHT 343 - THE WORLD AS WILL AND THE WORLD AS IDEA 345 - THE WILL AS IRRATIONAL REALITY 347 - THE MISERY OF THE WORLD AS IDEA――PESSIMISM 348 - THE WAY OF DELIVERANCE 349 - - CHAPTER XIII. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 352 - THE RETURN TO REALISM 352 - THE CHARACTER OF THE REALISM OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 353 - MODERN PHILOSOPHY AND GERMAN IDEALISM 355 - THE PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 356 - 1. The Problem of the Functioning of the Soul 357 - 2. The Problem of the Conception of History 360 - - INDEX 365 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - IMMANUEL KANT _Frontispiece_ - - MAP SHOWING THE DECENTRALIZATION OF EUROPE 13 - - MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF THE CHIEF PHILOSOPHERS OF - THE RENAISSANCE 30 - - BARUCH DE SPINOZA 84 - - MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF SOME OF THE INFLUENTIAL - THINKERS OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT 144 - - MAP SHOWING THE UNIVERSITY TOWNS AND OTHER IMPORTANT - PLACES CONNECTED WITH THE GERMAN IDEALISTS 280 - - - - - A BEGINNER’S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY - - VOLUME II - - MODERN PHILOSOPHY (1453 TO THE PRESENT TIME) - - - - - CHAPTER I - - THE CHARACTERISTICS AND DIVISIONS OF THE MODERN PERIOD - - -=The Difficulty in the Study of Modern Philosophy.= Beside the great -spans of ancient and mediæval civilizations, the 450 years of the -modern period seem brief. The road is indeed relatively short from -mediæval times to the century in which we live, and yet it proves -difficult to the student who travels it for the first time. Even for -the modern mind the study of modern philosophy is inherently more -difficult than that of the ancient and mediæval. The preceding periods -present new points of view, but these, once attained, lead along -comparatively easy ways. The chief difficulty of the preceding periods -is overcome when their peculiar view of things is gained; but the -student of modern philosophy is confronted with difficulties all along -the way. In the first place, modern philosophy is very complex because -it is a conflict of various aspirations. It has neither the objectivity -of ancient thought nor the logical consistency of mediæval thought. -It arises from subjective motives, whose shadings are difficult to -trace. The task is rendered harder by the fact that intimations of the -problems in the history of modern philosophy are on the whole present -in the beginner’s mind; and yet at the same time his mind possesses, -besides these, many mediæval notions as well. For the student to pass -successfully through the entire length of modern thought from Cusanus -to Spencer means, therefore, two things for him: (1) he must gain an -insight into the depth and significance of his own half-formed ideas; -(2) he must transcend or give up entirely his mediæval notions. If -therefore philosophy represents the epoch that produces it,――either as -the central principle or as the marginal and ulterior development of -that epoch,――the modern can come to an understanding of the history of -modern philosophy only by coming to an understanding of himself and his -own inner reflections. - -This will explain why the short period of modern thought is -traditionally divided into comparatively many periods. These -subordinate periods ring out the changes through which the modern man -feels that he himself has blindly passed in his inner life. Modern -philosophy is no more local and temporary than the ancient; it is no -less a part of a social movement; but the modern man is more alive to -the differentiations of modern thought than he is to those of antiquity. - -=The Periods of Modern Philosophy.= The divisions of the history of -modern philosophy are as follows:―― - - 1. The Renaissance (1453–1690)――from the end of the Middle - Ages to the publication of Locke’s _Essay on the Human - Understanding_. - - 2. The Enlightenment (1690–1781)――to the publication of Kant’s - _Critique of Pure Reason_. - - 3. German Philosophy (1781–1831)――to the death of Hegel. - - 4. The Nineteenth Century Philosophy (1820–the present time). - -The Renaissance, the first period, covers more than half of the length -of modern times. It is sometimes called the springtime of modern -history, although it is longer than all the other seasons together. -It is to be noted that two epoch-making books form the dividing lines -between the first three periods. The transition from the Renaissance -to the Enlightenment is signalized by Locke’s great _Essay on the Human -Understanding_, which expressed for one hundred years the political -and philosophical opinions of western Europe. The transition from the -Enlightenment to German Philosophy was in its turn signalized by the -appearance of Kant’s _Critique of Pure Reason_, and this book may be -said to have been fundamental to human thinking ever since. There is -one point further to be noticed in these divisions, and that is the -overlapping of the last two periods. German philosophy ends practically -with the death of Hegel in 1831, and the modern Evolution movement -began at least ten years before, about 1820. No great philosophical -treatise marks the division here, for the Evolution movement had its -beginnings in German philosophy and in the discoveries and practical -inventions of natural science. Evolution, however, became a reaction -upon the last phases of German philosophy, and then formed a distinct -movement. The book that formulated the Evolution movement most fully -appeared several years after the theory was under way. This was -Darwin’s _Origin of Species_, published in 1859. Locke’s _Essay_ and -Kant’s _Critique_ are therefore the most influential philosophical -interpretations of the history of modern times since its early -beginnings in the Renaissance. - -=The Causes of the Decay of the Civilization of the Middle Ages.= The -social structure of the mediæval time weakened and broke apart, in the -first place because of certain inherent defects in its organism; in -the second place because of some remarkable discoveries, inventions, -and historical changes. We may call these (1) _the internal causes_ and -(2) _the external causes_ of the fall of the civilization of the Middle -Ages. - -(a) _The Internal Causes_ were inherent weaknesses in mediæval -intellectual life, and alone would have been sufficient to bring -mediæval society to an end. - -(1) _The intellectual methods_ of the Middle Ages were self-destructive -methods. We may take scholasticism as the best expression of the -intellectual life of the Middle Ages, and scholasticism even in its -ripest period used the _method of deductive logic_. Scholasticism did -not employ induction from observation and experiment, but proceeded on -the principle that the more universal logically a conception is, the -more real it is. (See vol. i, p. 355.) On this principle scholasticism -set as its only task to penetrate and clarify dogma. Its theism was -a _logical_ theism. Even Thomas Aquinas, the great classic schoolman, -used formal logic (dialectics) as the method of obtaining the truth. -After him in the latter part of the Middle Ages, logic instead of being -a method became an end. It was studied for its own sake. This naturally -degenerated into word-splitting and quibbling, into the commenting -upon the texts of this master and that, into arid verbal discussions. -The religious orders frittered away their time on verbal questions of -trifling importance. The lifetime of such intellectual employment is -always a limited one. - -(2) _The standard of the truth_ of things in the Middle Ages became -a double standard, and was therefore self-destructive. Ostensibly -there was only one standard,――infallible dogma. Really there were two -standards,――reason and dogma. The employment of logical methods implied -the human reason as a valid standard. Logic is the method of human -reasoning. To use logic to clarify dogma, to employ the philosophy -of Aristotle to supplement the Bible, to defend faith by argument, -amounted in effect to supporting revelation by reason. It was the same -as defending the infallible and revealed by the fallible and secular. -It was the erecting of a double standard. It called the infallible into -question. It was the offering of excuses for what is supposedly beyond -suspicion. The scholastic made faith the object of thought, and thereby -encouraged the spirit of free inquiry. - -(3) _The development of Mysticism_ in the Middle Ages was a powerful -factor that led to its dissolution. There is, of course, an element -of mysticism in the doctrine of the church from St. Augustine -onwards, and in the Early Period of the Middle Ages mysticism had -no independence. But mysticism is essentially the direct communion -with God on the part of the individual. The intermediary offices of -the church are contradictory to the spirit of mysticism. It is not -surprising, therefore, to find in the last period of scholasticism -numerous independent mystics as representatives of the tendency of -individualistic religion, which was to result in the Protestantism of -the Renaissance. - -(4) _The doctrine of Nominalism_ was the fourth important element to be -mentioned that led to the dissolution of the civilization of the Middle -Ages. This was easily suppressed by the church authorities in the early -mediæval centuries, when it was a purely logical doctrine and had no -empirical scientific basis. In the later years, however, nominalism -gained great strength with the acquisition of knowledge of the nature -world. Nominalism turned man’s attention away from the affairs of -the spirit. It incited him to modify the realism of dogma. It pointed -out the importance of practical experience. It emphasized individual -opinion, neglected tradition, and placed its hope in the possibilities -of science rather than in the spiritual actualities of religion. - -(b) _The External Causes_ consisted of certain important events that -brought the Middle Ages to a close and introduced the Renaissance. -These events caused great social changes by demolishing the -geographical and astronomical conceptions of mediæval time which had -become a part of church tradition. - -First to be mentioned are the inventions which belong to the Middle -Ages, but which came into common use not before the beginning of the -Renaissance. These played an important part in the total change of -the society which followed. They were the magnetic needle, gunpowder, -which was influential in destroying the feudal system, and printing, -which would have failed in its effect had not at the same time -the manufacture of paper been improved. Moreover at the end of the -fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century occurred the -following events:―― - -1453. Constantinople fell and its Greek scholars migrated to Italy. - -1492. Columbus discovered America, an achievement which was made -possible by the use of the magnetic needle. - -1498. Vasco da Gama discovered the all-sea route to India and thereby -changed the course of the world’s commerce. - -1518. The Protestant Reformation was begun by Luther. - -1530. Copernicus wrote his _De revolutionibus orbium_, in which he -maintained that the earth moved around the sun. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE RENAISSANCE[1] (1453–1690) - - -=The General Character of the Renaissance.= The causes that led to the -decline of the society of the Middle Ages were of course the same that -ushered in the period of the Renaissance,――the first, the longest, and -the most hopeful period of modern times. The general characterization -of this period may be expressed in a single phrase,――_a New Man in a -New Universe_. This, however, needs explanation. - -(a) The _New Man_ of the Renaissance was distinctly a man with a -country. The fusion of the German and Roman peoples in the Dark Ages -before Charlemagne (800) was now completed. The fusion did not result -in a ♦homogeneous whole, but in groups which formed the nations of -Europe. The time when this grouping was practically finished is a -difficult problem, into which we will not inquire. In a real sense it -never was nor will be ended. We know that the nations began to form -about the year 1000, and when we examine the history of the Renaissance -we find Italians, Germans, French, Dutch, and English with distinctive -national characteristics. We find the Renaissance first centralized -among the Italians and Germans, and then later among the English, the -people of the Low Countries, and the French. The Italian is a new Roman -and the German a new Teuton. The undefined nationalities of the Middle -Ages now become clear-cut. Philosophy also becomes now more or less of -a national concern. - -(b) A _New Universe_ is now opened to the “New Man” of the Renaissance. -Not only in mental equipment, but in scope for his activity, does -the European of the Renaissance differ from the mediæval man. The -world is actually a new world――new in its geographical outlines and -its astronomical relations; new in its intellectual stores from the -past. The physical world that supported his body and the intellectual -world that refreshed his mind were newly discovered by the man of the -Renaissance. We must examine these two new worlds more in detail. - -1. The physical universe had undergone a wonderful transformation -for man. Our nineteenth century has often been looked upon as a -period of extraordinary discoveries; but no discoveries have ever -so revolutionized the human mind as those enumerated above as “the -external causes of the fall of the society of the Middle Ages.” Think -how new that old world must have seemed to the common people who -had supposed it to be flat, as well as to the scientists who had -hypothetically supposed it to be solid――how new it must have seemed -when they found that it had been actually circumnavigated! How the -horizon of men’s minds must have widened when new continents were -discovered by sailors and new celestial worlds were found by the -telescope of the astronomers! Discovery led to experiment, and the -whole new physical world was transformed by the new physical science of -Galileo into a mechanical order. It was a wonderful new material world -that was discovered and scientifically reorganized at the beginning -of the Renaissance. Whereas the common man in mediæval time had found -little joy in living, the common man now looked upon the world as a -magnificent opportunity. Whereas the mediæval man had turned from the -disorders of this wicked world to contemplation of the blessedness of -heaven, the man of the Renaissance came forth from the cloister and -engaged in trade and adventure. The earth and the things therein had -suddenly become objects of emotional interest. - -2. Not only was a new geographical and physical world discovered at -this time, but also the intellectual world of antiquity was restored. -For more than a thousand years in western Europe the literature of -the Greeks and Romans had been a thing of shreds and patches, and even -then read only in Latin translations. Now the European had come into -possession of a large part of it and was reading it in the original. He -was aroused to the wonderful intellectual life of the Age of Pericles. -The interest in ancient literature, which had been started by Dante, -Petrarch, and Boccaccio in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, -became an absorbing and controlling force at this time. The real -interest began with the stimulus received by the coming of the Greek -scholars to Italy from the East: first the ecclesiastical embassy -in 1438, and afterward in 1453 the large number of refugees from -Constantinople at the time of its capture by the Turks. Upon these -refugees the patronage of the great Italian nobles――chiefly perhaps -in Florence――was lavishly bestowed. The Platonic Academy was founded. -Learned expounders of the new learning arose,――Pletho, the two Picos, -Fincinus, Reuchlin. Of all the philosophies of antiquity Platonism -was favored, and it was interpreted in a mystical manner. Aristotle -and Christianity were looked upon as mere interpretations of Plato. -Nevertheless the Renaissance scholars were interested in all the new -literary material from the East. They studied the Jewish Cabala and -its mystic numbers. They revived Skepticism, Eclecticism, Stoicism, and -Epicureanism. Aristotle was represented by two antagonistic schools; -and Taurellus opposed both and appealed to the scholarly world to -return to Christianity. - -=The Significance of the Renaissance in History.= We have above -characterized the Renaissance as a time in which a “new man” found -himself living in a “new universe.” But the old world of mediæval -science, culture, and conventional manners had by no means been -entirely outgrown and discarded. Periods of history do not “leave their -low-vaulted past” as easily as a man may throw away his coat. Mediæval -science and theology still remained, not only as a background but -also as an aggressive social factor everywhere. Mediæval scholasticism -was something with which the Renaissance had always to reckon. -Scholasticism modified, frequently restricted, and even directed -the thought of the Renaissance. Consequently when we form our final -estimate of the place of the Renaissance in the modern movement, we -must not overlook the conservative force of the mediæval institutions -existing during the period. The “new man” lived in a “new universe”; -and _his problem was how to explain the relation of that “new -universe” to himself so that his explanation would not antagonize -the time-honored traditions of the church_. This was the constructive -problem that gave the Renaissance its place in history. - -The first impression, however, of the Renaissance upon the reader is -that it stands for no constructive problem whatever. The changes that -usher in the Renaissance seem to speak of an epoch that is entirely -negative, destructive, and revolutionary. The period seems from one -side to be a declaration against time-honored traditions. The “new man” -had risen superior to dogma and to Aristotle. Intellectual fermentation -had set in, and never had so many attempts at innovation been so -strenuously sought. The love for novelty filled the human mind, and the -imagination ran riot. The movement toward modern individualism appeared -in the decentralization that at this time was everywhere taking place. -Latin, for example, ceased to be the one language for educated men, -and the modern languages came into use. Rome ceased to be the only -religious centre, and Wittenberg, London, and Geneva became centres. -There was no longer one church, but many sects. Scientific centres -became numerous. Many of the universities had arisen independently, -and now Oxford, Vienna, Heidelberg, Prague, and numerous universities -in Italy and Germany afforded opportunities for study equal to those -of Paris. To the man who looks upon the Classic Period of Scholasticism -in the Middle Ages as the golden age of united faith,――to that man the -Renaissance will appear only as the beginning of the disintegration and -revolution that he sees in modern times. - - Illustration: MAP SHOWING THE DECENTRALIZATION OF EUROPE - IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY - - (Note that Rome, Wittenberg, London, and Geneva are the - religious centres; that Paris, Oxford, Heidelberg, and Prague - are the educational centres; and that Europe is divided into - many nations) - -But a deeper insight into the Renaissance shows that its revolutionary, -negative, and spectacular aspect is not its whole significance. No -doubt a strong, universal, and well-centralized government and a unity -of faith are social ideals. The reverence in which the name of Rome -was held long after the empire had been destroyed, and the reluctance -with which the first Protestants separated themselves from the Catholic -church, show that the loss of such a unity is a real loss. But the -church of the Middle Ages was not the carrier of all the treasure -of the past, nor could the church with its own inherent limitations -stand as representative of modern times. The new problem which the -Renaissance faced might be destructive of much of the traditional -past, but it contained many new elements. The “new man” found himself -in a “new universe.” He was obliged to undertake the solution of a -far deeper problem than antiquity had ever attempted. He must orient -himself in a larger world than the past had ever imagined. He must do -this in the very presence of mediæval institutions, which had not lost -their spiritual nor their temporal power. The constructive problem -before the man of the Renaissance was therefore an exceedingly complex -one. How should he explain his relation to the “new universe” in a -way that would not antagonize tradition? It was a new problem, a real -problem in which the traditional factor was always persistently present. - -There were two _motifs_ which give to the problem of the Renaissance -its constructive character. These were _naturalism_ and _subjectivism_. -_In the first place, the Renaissance is the period when the naturalism -of the Greeks was recovered._ By naturalism is meant the love for -earthly life. Of this the mediæval church and the mediæval time had -little or nothing. The church had been born out of the revulsion from -the earthly, and it rose on the aspiration for the supernatural. The -Renaissance was, on the contrary, born out of a passionate joy in -nature, which joy was intensified by the unexpected possession of the -literature of the past and by the discovery of new lands beyond the -seas. Man felt now the happiness and dignity of earthly living and -the worth of the body as well as the soul. _In the next place, the -Renaissance is marked by the rise of subjectivism._ At the beginning of -our book we have already given the meaning of subjectivism (see vol. i, -p. 2), and we have characterized modern civilization as subjective -in distinction from the ancient as objective and the Middle Ages as -traditional. We have also found, as we have gone on, the beginnings -of subjectivism in the Sophists, Stoics, and Christians. But in the -Renaissance for the first time does the individual as a rational self -gain the central position. This is subjectivism: the individual is -not only the interpreter of the universe, but also its mental creator. -Of the subjective _motif_ in modern times the Renaissance marks the -inauguration, and German Idealism the culmination. While the world of -the ancients was cosmo-centric and the mediæval world was theo-centric, -the world of the modern man is ego-centric. The love of life, and -the love of life because the individual feels his own capacity for -life――this is the situation presented to the man of the Renaissance. -Thus in the restoration of naturalism and in the construction of -subjectivism did the Renaissance stand for positive upbuilding, in -spite of the fact that in all this the period was constrained by the -powerful tradition of the church. - -=The Two Periods of the Renaissance: The Humanistic= (1453–1600); -=The Natural Science= (1600–1690). The Renaissance is divided into two -periods at the year 1600. The reason for taking this date as a division -line will soon appear. The period before 1600 we call the Humanistic, -or the period of the Humanities; the period after this date the Natural -Science Period. - -(a) The Similarities of the Two Periods. These two periods are alike -in having the same motives. Both feel the same urgent need (1) for -new knowledge, (2) for a new standard by which to measure their -new knowledge, (3) for a new method of gaining knowledge. From the -beginning to the end of the Renaissance the “new man” was feeling -his way about, was trying to orient and readjust himself in his “new -universe.” He was seeking new acquisitions to his rich stores of -knowledge, to systematize his knowledge by some correct method, and -to set up some standard by which his knowledge might be tested. - -(b) The Differences of the Two Periods. There are, however, some marked -differences in the carrying out of these motives by each period, and to -these we must give our attention. - -(1) _The Countries which participate in the Renaissance differ in the -Two Periods_. In the Humanistic Period Italy and Germany were chiefly -concerned. There are two reasons for this. In the first place, these -countries had been engaged in commerce with the Orient, had become -prosperous and more or less acquainted with the culture of the Orient. -In the second place, Italy had been the refuge of the Greek scholars; -when the colony of Greek refugees in Florence had died out in 1520, -northerners like Erasmus, Agricola, Reuchlin, the Stephani, and Budæus -had luckily already made themselves masters of the Greek language and -literature, and had carried their learning into Germany. - -In the Natural Science Period the Renaissance had practically become -dead both in Germany and in Italy. The reason for this is not far to -seek. In Italy, in 1563, the Council of Trent had fixed the dogma of -the church and had made it impossible for the church to assimilate -anything more from antiquity. The so-called Counter-Reformation set -in, and Italy became dumb under the persecutions of the Inquisition. -Furthermore, the discovery of the sea-route to the East had turned -commerce away from Italy. When we look to Germany, we find a similar -situation. The Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648) had devastated the land -and had made intellectual life wholly impossible. - -On the other hand, England, France, and the Low Countries represent -the Natural Science Period in the Renaissance. By the War of Liberation -(1568–1648) Holland became the European country where the greatest -freedom of thought was granted, and it proved itself an asylum for -thinkers and scholars. France, through the influence of the University -of Paris, was the centre of mathematical research. In England the -brilliant Elizabethan era had already begun. - -(2) _The Intellectual Standards differ in the Two Periods._ The -Humanistic Period has been well characterized as the time of “the -struggle of traditions.” Naturally enough, with the revival of Greek -learning the thinkers of the first period of the Renaissance would -try to solve the new problems by the standards which they found in -antiquity. What did Aristotle, Plato, the Epicureans say in matters of -science? What standards did they yield for solving the new problems of -the “new universe”? The traditions of antiquity were therefore revived; -and the contention was, Which should be taken as a standard? Among -all the ancient systems neo-Platonism became the most prominent. It -dominated the Humanistic Period because its æsthetic character and its -mystical explanations appealed to the susceptible mind of that time. -Nevertheless, the sway of neo-Platonism was not absolute. The “struggle -of traditions” continued throughout the period, as appears in the -schisms of the church and in the literary and philosophical contentions. - -The Natural Science Period, in its hope of finding a standard to -explain the problems of the “new universe,” discovered a new standard -within the “new universe” itself. No tradition of antiquity had proved -itself adequate to the situation. Nothing could be found in Plato -and Aristotle to give a theoretic standard for the new discoveries -and inventions. Nature disclosed its own standard within itself. The -Natural Science Period said _nature facts must be explained by nature -facts_. But the question will naturally be asked, Why did the thinkers -of this period, when the theories of antiquity were found to be -inadequate, turn to nature rather than elsewhere for an explanation -of nature? The answer to this is found in the great successes of the -physical astronomers, who had started their investigations at the -beginning of the Humanistic Period, and had reached the zenith of their -glory at the beginning of the Natural Science Period. The discoveries -of Galileo were especially important. - -(3) _The Scientific Methods in the Two Periods were Different._ The -method usually employed in the Humanistic Period was magic. This first -period tried to explain nature facts of the “new universe” by referring -them to agencies in the spiritual world. In their neo-Platonic -nature-worship the scholars of this period imagined that the control -of nature was to be obtained by a fanciful linking of the parts of -nature to the spirits supposed to be in nature. The Bible is the -product of the spiritual world, so why is not the “new nature-world” -inspired from the same source? God is the first cause of all things; -He is in all things and each finite thing mirrors Him. All things have -souls. To gain control over nature, some all-controlling formula must -be found which will reveal the secret of the control of spirits over -nature; and to master the spirits that control nature is to control -nature herself. Hence arose, as the methods of this first period, magic, -trance-mediumship, necromancy, alchemy, conjurations, and astrology. -Antiquity could offer (and especially is this true of Platonism) only -spiritual causes for nature facts,――hence the search in this time for -the philosopher’s stone. There was never a blinder groping after a -method. - -The scientific method used in the Natural Science Period was the -mathematical. The world of experience was found to coincide with the -number system, and therefore mathematics was used as the symbol to -determine the form of nature events. Induction and deduction were used -in different combinations. The period has been characterized as the -time of “the strife of methods.” Induction and deduction became in fact -the new methods of finding the truth about the “new world.” Whatever is -clear and distinct, like the axioms, must be taken as true. All other -knowledge must be deduced from these axiomatic certainties. In contrast -with the magical methods of the Humanistic Period, which point beyond -nature for an explanation of nature, here in the Natural Science Period -mathematics need not lead the explanation farther than nature herself. - -(4) _The Attitude of the Church toward Science differs in the Two -Periods._ In the Humanistic Period the attitude of the church toward -the new learning was not yet defined. This was because the bearing -of the new learning upon dogma was not yet understood. On the one -hand, on matters upon which the church had clearly declared itself, -it was easily seen what could and what could not be believed. But, -on the other hand, the significance of much of the wealth of the -newly acquired learning could not at first be fully determined. The -enthusiasm for science was so widespread, and the new discoveries were -so many, that the church was unable to know what was consistent with -dogma and what was not. At the outset the church was inclined to treat -the new science with contemptuous toleration. Nevertheless, in spite of -the new intellectual intoxication there was no real freedom of thought. -The position of science was merely precarious, uncertain, and undefined. - -In the Natural Science Period this uncertainty was dispelled because -dogma came into violent conflict with science. It was soon found -that questions in physics involved metaphysics, and that the new -science touched the church doctrines at every point. In 1563 the -church authorities at the Council of Trent settled dogma for all time. -Great conflicts arose between the church and the secularizing spirit. -The scientist became wary. He tried to avoid any intrusion upon the -field of theology, and he insisted that his own field existed quite -independent of theological dogma. But practically it was impossible -for science not to take heretical positions, and this was especially -true of the Rationalistic School, which tried to construct a new -scholasticism. Safe independence of thought was not gained until the -next period (the Enlightenment), and this was brought to pass by -political changes. - -=A Brief Contrast of the Two Periods――A Summary of the Discussion -above.= - - _The Humanistic Period._ - (1) The Time――1453–1600. - (2) The Countries Concerned――Italy and Germany. - (3) The Intellectual Standards――Neo-Platonism and other theories - of antiquity. - (4) The Method――magic. - (5) The Relation of Science to the Church――precarious and - uncertain. - - _The Natural Science Period._ - (1) The Time――1600–1690. - (2) The Countries Concerned――England, France, and the Low - Countries. - (3) The Intellectual Standard――the mechanism of nature facts. - (4) The Method――induction and mathematical deduction in various - combinations. - (5) The Relation of Science to the Church――so definitely stated - as to be placed in conflict with dogma. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE HUMANISTIC PERIOD OF THE RENAISSANCE (1453–1600) - - -=The Long List of Representatives of the Humanistic Period.= There was -a revival of _scholasticism_,――Paulus Barbus Socinas (d. 1494), Cajetan -(d. 1534), Ferrariensis (d. 1528), Melchior Cano (d. 1560), Dominicus -de Soto (d. 1560), Dominicus Banez (d. 1604), John of St. Thomas -(d. 1644), Vasquez (d. 1604), Toletus (d. 1596), Fonseca (d. 1599), -Suarez (d. 1617), John the Englishman (d. 1483), Johannes Magistri -(d. 1482), Antonius Trombetta (d. 1518), Maurice the Irishman (d. 1513). -Among the _Humanists_ were Pletho, Bessarion (d. 1472), Lorenzo Valla -(d. 1457), Marsilio Ficino (d. 1499), Giovanni Pico della Mirandola -(d. 1494), Francesco Pico della Mirandola (d. 1533), Theodore of Gaza -(d. 1478), Agricola (d. 1485), George of Trebizond (d. 1484), Justus -Lipsius (d. 1606), Schoppe (b. 1562), Paracelsus (d. 1541), Reuchlin -(d. 1522), Fludd (d. 1637), Montaigne (d. 1592), Charron (d. 1603), -Sanchez (d. 1632), Pomponatius (d. 1530), Achillini (d. 1518), Nifo -(d. 1546), Petrus Ramus (d. 1572), Scaliger (d. 1558). The _Italian -nature philosophers_ were Cardano (d. 1576), Telesio (d. 1588), -Patrizzi (d. 1597), Bruno (d. 1600), Campanella (d. 1639). The notable -_scientists_ were Cusanus (d. 1464), Copernicus (d. 1543), Tycho Brahe -(d. 1601), Kepler (d. 1631). _The Protestant Mystics_ were Luther -(d. 1546), Zwingli (d. 1531), Franck (d. 1545), Weigel (d. 1588), -Boehme (d. 1624). The _political philosophers_ were Macchiavelli -(d. 1527), Thomas More (d. 1535), Jean Bodin (d. 1597), Gentilis -(d. 1611), Althusius (d. 1638), Hugo Grotius (d. 1645). - -As examples of the first epoch of the Renaissance[2] we have selected -Cusanus (1401–1464), Paracelsus (1493–1541), and Bruno (1548–1600). -These three men will represent fairly well the wide interests of this -epoch, and more especially its neo-Platonic spirit and its methods. -The reader will see from their dates that the lives of these three -philosophers nearly cover the Humanistic Period. Cusanus lived during -the last half century of the Middle Ages and the first decade of -the Humanistic Period; Paracelsus’s life covers the middle of the -Humanistic Period; Bruno lived during the last part of the period, -and his death (1600) coincides with the last year of the period. -All three were neo-Platonists. They had been so impressed with -the nature-world that had opened before them that they were mystic -nature-worshipers――pantheists, to whom neo-Platonism became the truest -philosophical standard. All three were scientists in different degrees. -Yet Cusanus, the cardinal of the church, and Bruno, the speculative -philosopher, contributed more to science than Paracelsus, who aspired -to medical science. This seeming inconsistency in their lives is -not difficult to explain. Paracelsus merely reflects the science -of the time; while Cusanus and Bruno anticipate the Natural Science -Period――the one by his empirical discoveries, the other by his mystic -speculations which were almost prophecies. - -=Nicolas of Cusa= (1401–1464). Modern German scholars place Nicolas of -Cusa (Nicolas Cusanus) with Bacon and Descartes, as the leaders of the -modern philosophical movement. Nicolas lived two hundred years before -Descartes and one hundred years before Bacon. The German estimate -of him shows at least that he was modern in his thought, although he -belongs in time to the Middle Ages for the most part. He lived when -the Middle Ages were passing over into the Renaissance. His principal -work, the _Idiota_, was published in 1450, when the Renaissance was on -the threshold. He was certainly a forerunner of modern times. He was a -German, a cardinal, and is now reverenced by liberal Catholics as one -of their deepest thinkers. - -Cusanus was a scientist of no small merit. He died before the great -discoveries were made; but he anticipated Copernicus in his belief that -the earth rotated on its axis; he anticipated Bruno in conceiving space -to be boundless and time unending; he proposed a reform in the calendar; -he was the first to have a map of Germany engraved. He condemned -the prevalent superstitions of the church and the use of magic in -explaining nature events. Thus he anticipated the science of the time -of Bacon, Hobbes, and Descartes, and transcended his own period. - -In other respects Cusanus belongs in this period with Bruno and -Paracelsus. He did not seek to discover a new method; but he turned -back to the revived traditional Greek systems for an explanation -of the “new world.” He found in the mystic numbers of Plato and the -Pythagoreans the principle of all scientific investigation. The world -of nature phenomena must be accounted for by the spiritual world. -Cusanus uses almost the identical language of Bruno, when he says -that the world is the mirror of God and that man is an epitome of the -universe. In the neo-Platonic spirit of the Humanists, he regarded the -world as a soul-possessing and articulate Oneness. Although a scientist, -he conceived science to be only a conjecture, which in its unreality -reveals the inner interconnections of the real world――the world of the -spirit. - -=Paracelsus= (1493–1541). Paracelsus did not transcend his time as did -Cusanus. He merely expressed it. He was the exponent of its science as -Bruno was the representative of its poetic speculation. Paracelsus was -a much-traveled Swiss, who tried to reform the practice of medicine -by a kind of magical chemistry. The poet Browning makes his adventures -the basis of a poem. As a physician Paracelsus could employ the magic -arts without much danger of the charge of heresy, for the practice -of the magic art was theoretically justified by the neo-Platonism of -the time. The Faust of Goethe is at first a Paracelsus. The universal -spirit behind nature presents itself in an infinite number of spiritual -individuals. Nature facts are to be understood and mastered by -understanding the activities of these spiritual forces. In this way -medicine became a brewing of tinctures, magical drinks, and secret -remedies. It was an alchemy which grew to the proportions of a science. -The alchemists of the time expected to discover a panacea against -disease, which would give them the highest power. This is the meaning -of the “philosopher’s stone,” which was to heal all diseases, transmute -everything into gold, and bring all spirits into the power of its -possessor. Paracelsus thus turned back to Greek hylozoism for the truth -about physiology and the cure of disease; and he met with some degree -of personal success, for his physics had many adherents both in theory -and in practice.[3] - -In the neo-Platonic manner Paracelsus conceived the world as -fundamentally a developing vital principle (Vulcanus). Man is this -cosmic force individualized (Archæus). The laws that operate in the -world are the same as in man, except that in man they are hidden. -The study of nature’s laws, as they lie open, will reveal how those -same laws operate in a human being. Now the vital principle in nature -manifests itself in three realms: the terrestrial, the astral or -celestial, and the spiritual or divine. The Archæus or vital principle -in man must have the same realms of activity. There is man’s body, -which gets its strength from the terrestrial realm of nature; man’s -mind, which is nourished by the stars; man’s soul, that feeds on faith -in Christ. Perfect health, therefore, consists in the sympathetic -interaction of these three realms in man. A complete medicine consists -of physics, astronomy, and theology. - -But Paracelsus was a chemist, and the terrestrial nature of man was his -peculiar interest. The theologian may prescribe for the human soul, and -it is the duty of the astronomer to care for the human intellect; but -the practical physician must understand the human body. Here is the -Archæus imprisoned in the gross terrestrial body! It is in continual -warfare with that body. What is the nature of that body which is so -hostile to the human vital principle? Here Paracelsus introduces his -strange chemical analysis which characterizes him as a Renaissance -physician. Nature has three essences of which all bodies are composed: -(1) mercury, that makes bodies liquid; (2) sulphur, that makes them -combustible; (3) salt, that makes them rigid. These essences are -compounded in such a way that from them the four elements――earth, air, -water, and fire――are derived. Each one of these elements is controlled -by elemental spirits. The earth is controlled by gnomes, the water -by undines, the air by sylphs, and the fire by salamanders. Thus the -chemical analysis of Paracelsus discovers four sets of spirits with -which the physician is obliged to deal. Gnomes, sylphs, undines, and -salamanders are in warfare with the human vital principle for control. -When the Archæus is in any way checked by these, there is disease; when -the Archæus has them under control, the man has health. The medicines -that the physician administers are determined by their effectiveness -in helping the Archæus in its battle against the hostile spirits. This -makes medicine a field for the magician in the control of spirits. - -=Giordano Bruno= (1548–1600). The neo-Platonic spirit of the Humanistic -Period reached its most complete development in the æsthetic philosophy -of Giordano Bruno. He sang the world-joy of the æsthetic Renaissance. -Italy ordained him priest, exiled him as heretic, and then burned -him at the stake as recalcitrant. Italy has produced very few great -speculators since his day. The Council of Trent met when he was fifteen -years old; already the counter-Reformation had begun in Italy, and -Italy was soon to become an intellectually arid waste. The influence of -Bruno appears in Spinoza and perhaps in Leibnitz. His one contribution -to modern science was in his inspired conception that because God is -infinite, the world is infinite in space and time. The philosophers who -influenced his thought were Pythagoras, Plato, Plotinus, and Lucretius. - -The fundamental thought of the Humanistic Period was expressed by -Bruno in his imaginative conception of the divine beauty of the living -All. Poet as well as philosopher, he was consumed by a love for nature -as a beautiful religious object. He revolted from all asceticism and -scholasticism. The “new world” in which he found himself was to him the -emblem of God. The thought of that chief of neo-Platonists, Plotinus, -of the beauty of the universe had never been so sympathetically -regarded as by the Renaissance; in the hands of Bruno this beauty -became the manifestation of the divine Idea. Philosophy, æsthetics, and -religion were identical to him. To express his thought he employed the -usual neo-Platonic symbol of the all-forming and all-animating light. -Bruno was no patient student of natural phenomena as such, but a lover -of the great illumination of nature facts by the great soul behind -them. He was not interested in any single group of phenomena, as was -Paracelsus; but he loved them all as a religion. Not only externally -but internally is the universe an eternal harmony. When one gazes upon -it with the enthusiasm of a poet, its apparent defects will vanish in -the harmony of the whole. Man needs no special theology, for the world -is perfect because it is the life of God. Bruno is a universalistic -optimist and a mystic poet. Before this cosmic harmony man should never -utter complaint, but should bow in reverence. True science is religion -and morality. - -Since Bruno conceived no theodicy (proof of the goodness and justice of -God) to be necessary, he did not define in exact terms his conception -of God. Nevertheless, to escape the charge of atheism, he distinguished -between the universe and the world. For him God = the universe = -nature = matter = the principle immanent in the world. The “world,” -on the other hand, = the sum-total of nature phenomena. The “world” -is the body of God, and God is the soul of the “world.” God is _natura -naturans_; the world is _natura naturata_[4]. Just as the sum of the -parts of man’s body does not equal the man himself, so to identify God -with the totality of objects of nature is atheism in the true sense. It -is to make God a finite being, although very big. In opposition to this, -Bruno conceives God as the one substance manifesting himself through -all things. This is to magnify God and to make him really omnipresent. - -Nevertheless, Bruno is involved in all the inconsistencies of the -Mystic. In a neo-Platonic fashion he frequently speaks of God as if -he were a plural number of atoms. God is not only the world unity, -but in every particle of the world is He writ small. The elements of -the world are monads, and each is the mirror of the All. The Absolute -is the primal unity; and yet in the paradoxical fashion in which -the neo-Platonist is so successful, Bruno says that all creation is -unfolded out of God and is included in him. The speculative poet is -so in love with the world that he does not stop to make consistent the -distinctions which he has drawn. The _natura naturans_ and the _natura -naturata_, the unity and plurality of the world, are the two aspects of -the reality in his own life――and that reality is God. - - Illustration: MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF THE CHIEF - PHILOSOPHERS OF THE RENAISSANCE - - (The names of the philosophers are given in brackets beneath - the towns in which they were born) - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE NATURAL SCIENCE PERIOD OF THE RENAISSANCE (1600–1690)[5] - - -=The Philosophers of the Natural Science Period.= - - 1. Galileo, 1564–1641, and the group of scientists. - 2. Bacon, 1561–1626. - 3. Hobbes, 1588–1679. - 4. The Rationalists. - Descartes, 1596–1650. - Spinoza, 1632–1677. - Leibnitz, 1646–1716. - -Countries other than Italy and Germany come upon the philosophic stage -during the eighty-nine years of the period of teeming natural science. -England is represented by Bacon and Hobbes, France by Descartes, -Holland by the Jew, Spinoza, and, at the end of the period, Germany -by Leibnitz. Still Italy yields the most influential thinker of -them all,――Galileo, who is the most prominent of a long series -of astronomers coming from many countries. The most completely -representative is Descartes, who was the founder of the Rationalistic -school; for he was not only interested in mathematics itself, but -in the application of mathematics to metaphysical questions. Neither -as influential as Galileo, nor as comprehensive as Descartes, the -Englishmen, Bacon and Hobbes, were nevertheless important as the -forerunners of the English empirical school. Spinoza is more of a -“world’s philosopher” than any of the others, and he joins in his -doctrine the scholasticism of the Middle Ages and the mathematics -of the Renaissance; while Leibnitz occupies the position between the -Enlightenment and the Renaissance. - -=The Mathematical Astronomers.= After enthusiastically canvassing -the traditional theories of antiquity, the Humanists had been unable -to find one which would explain and organize the newly accumulated -materials of their “new world.” But working in more or less narrow -circles, natural science had already made a beginning in the midst -of the Humanists. Beginning with Copernicus, an interest in physics -and astronomy had been aroused, but in these early days it was more -speculative than empirical. The speculations of the astronomers had -but little influence upon their own time. However, when the ancient -theories proved inadequate to explain the facts of the “new world,” -and especially when the empirical researches of Galileo confirmed the -speculations of his predecessors, the Renaissance turned away from -antiquity to nature herself for an explanation. This was about the year -1600, the year of the beginning of the Natural Science period. - -The most prominent of these astronomers were―― - - Copernicus, 1473–1543, a Pole. - Bruno, 1548–1600, an Italian. - Tycho Brahe, 1546–1601, a Dane. - Kepler, 1571–1630, a German. - Galileo, 1564–1641, an Italian. - Huyghens, 1629–1695, a Hollander. - Newton, 1642–1722, an Englishman. - -While the greatest of these scientists is Newton, who belongs to -the next period, the most influential is Galileo. Modern _methods -in science_ began with Galileo. Of the four predecessors of Galileo -three――Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, and Bruno――are in spirit Humanists; -for their final explanation of nature is the world of spirits. Kepler -belongs to both the Humanistic and Natural Science periods; for at -first he constructed his natural science by an amalgamation of the -doctrine of spirits and the Copernican theory; but in the latter -part of his life he adopted completely the mechanical view of nature. -The above scientists may be divided for convenience into two groups: -(1) the speculative scientists before Galileo; (2) Galileo and the -following empirical investigators. - -For fourteen centuries the ancient Ptolemaic astronomy had been -regarded by the learned as beyond question. Although complex and -unwieldy, it explained all phenomena satisfactorily enough as they -appeared to the senses; and it brought phenomena into a system. (The -Ptolemaic system has been fully described in vol. i, pp. 322 ff.) To -recapitulate it: the world-all was conceived as a hollow sphere with -the earth as the centre and the fixed stars in the periphery, while the -planets were supposed to move in epicycles. The universe was divided -into the heavenly and terrestrial realms, which were occupied by -various spirits. God resided outside this hollow sphere and held it, -as it were, in his lap. - -The history of the changes leading up to our modern astronomical -conception makes a vivid chapter. How Copernicus contributed the idea -of placing the sun at the centre of things, Kepler the idea of the -orbits of the planets as ellipses, Bruno the idea of the boundlessness -of space and time, and how Galileo, corroborating these theories by -empirical investigations, was put under the ban of the church――all this -shows what heroism must have been required to tear down a time-honored -and firmly intrenched traditional conception. Probably the speculative -astronomers were not conscious that they were undermining the whole -astronomical structure, and probably their sole motive was to simplify -the Ptolemaic conception, not to destroy it. For Copernicus accepted -the Ptolemaic system, except that he put the sun instead of the -earth at the centre, and thereby simplified it by making many of the -epicycles unnecessary; and Kepler simplified it further by supplanting -the epicycles with ellipses. However, the result was inevitably an -entirely new conception of the universe, and with it a new conception -of the relation among particular material things. It was in this way -that new scientific methods arose. - -The universe now comes to be regarded as a mechanism, and what was -formerly looked upon as the influence of spirits or as Providential -guidance becomes an impersonal law of causal necessity. In the heavens -above and the earth beneath there are no longer vital forces and -supernatural influences. _The universe becomes a homogeneous whole -throughout_, in which there is no difference between the fall of -an apple and the revolution of the planets, no distinction between -terrestrial and celestial spheres. The Christian heaven is nowhere -in it; the Mediæval spirits are banished from it. The Greek gods have -been pushed out, and the Christian God has been made to stand aside. - -The demand that the new conception of the universe be verified in -concrete experiments, if it were to replace the old Ptolemaic system, -the revival of the study of Archimedes, the rivalry in trade and -inventions among the Italian towns, were three causes for the demand -for greater exactness. Investigation, experiment, and invention -came into vogue. Magic, alchemy, astrology, and conjurations were no -longer accepted as serious methods. In the Middle Ages deduction had -been purely the logical employment of the syllogism in theological -discussions, while induction, so far as it was used at all, had been -the reference of nature phenomena to spiritual forces. Now deduction -and induction[6] come to be used for other purposes, and mathematics -is necessarily conjoined with both. The new Natural Science period -is essentially a “strife of methods”; it is the period when the true -plan of scientific procedure is being determined. It is here that the -importance and influence of Galileo is seen upon modern science and -philosophy. - -The influence of mathematics in modern times grew up from these -astronomical beginnings among the Humanists; and the Natural Science -period with its contention as to methods was the immediate result. -Bacon, for example, regarded final causes as one of the “idols.” Hobbes -maintained that physics has only to do with efficient causes; Descartes -held that it is audacious in man to think of reading the purposes of -God in nature; while Spinoza thought it absurd to attribute divine -purpose to nature. By degrees everything in nature came to be regarded -as a mechanism, and there was no distinction between the animate and -the inanimate. The discovery of the mechanical circulation of the blood -by Harvey, in 1626, became a vigorous impulse toward the mechanical -study of animal life. Descartes regarded animals as complex automata -and on this line he published essays on dioptrics, musical law, and -the fœtus. Hobbes applied mechanical law to psychological phenomena. -The study of reflex action was carried on with great vigor in the Low -Countries and France. The mechanical theory was rendered complete in -this early time by the exclusion of the soul from the explanation of -the body of man, just as God had been pushed into the background of the -universe. - -=Galileo Galilei= (1564–1641).[7] The dates of the life of Galileo -show him to have been a younger contemporary of Bruno, and, like Bruno, -to have been a victim of the ecclesiastical reaction that was sweeping -away all scientific freedom in Italy. But while Bruno belonged both -chronologically and in spirit to the first period of the Renaissance, -Galileo is the true beginner of the second period. Bruno was a -philosopher of nature, while Galileo was a true scientist. _Galileo -gave to all future thought a wisely formulated method of dealing with -the new materials of the nature world._ His laws of projectiles, -falling bodies, and the pendulum created a new theory of motion. He set -the hypothesis of Copernicus upon an experimental basis and made the -future work of Newton possible. He was professor at the Universities of -Padua and Pisa, and he was mathematician and philosopher at the court -of Tuscany. That he perjured himself and thereby saved his life from -the Inquisition, there is no doubt; but instead of death he had an -old age of great bitterness. He gave open adherence to the Copernican -system in 1610, when he constructed a telescope and discovered the -satellites of Jupiter; and after this there followed discovery after -discovery, like the spots on the sun and the phases of Venus, which -latter discovery confirmed the Copernican hypothesis. He invented -the hydrostatic balance, the proportional compass, the thermoscope, -microscope, and telescope. His two most noteworthy writings are -_The Dialogue concerning the Two Most Important World-Systems_, and -_Investigations into Two New Sciences_. - -_As to method_, Galileo objected to formal logic, that it is not a -means of discovering new truth, although valuable as a corrective -of thought. New truth is discovered when we frame an hypothesis from -certain experiences, and then infer the truth of other cases from -that hypothesis. The hypothesis is first formed by induction from -a few characteristic cases; the inference to other cases is made -by deduction. He therefore linked induction and deduction closely -together, and conceived them as necessarily complementary in scientific -investigation. Either induction or deduction alone is absurd and -impossible. By induction alone we should be obliged to examine all -cases, an impossible undertaking. By deduction alone we should be -in the same straits as the Scholastics, and never discover new laws. -We must begin with our perceptual experiences and make an induction -from them; then we must bring mathematics into use in constructing -the hypothesis from which to deduce (calculate) new cases. This is the -true, modern method and reveals the great genius of Galileo. - -A mathematical law never exactly coincides with any particular concrete -relations. A mathematical law is an hypothesis or ideal construction. -What value, then, has a mathematical law for science? The orbits of -planets[8] are described as ellipses, but no actual planet moves in -a perfect ellipse. The ellipse is an hypothetical, mathematical orbit -for a planet which has no disturbing influences upon it. We get at such -a law by the method of concomitant variations;[9] and the value of it -consists in the simplification and system that it gives the facts. For -example, knowing that a planet would move in an ellipse if it suffered -no perturbations, and then knowing the influences upon any particular -planet, we can calculate its orbit. Mathematical law, although ideal, -is the common rule under which all nature phenomena can be brought. -However, only by measurements founded on the tests of observation -and experiment can we know how far the claims of such deduction are -supported. Measure everything measurable, and calculate the measurement -of those things not directly measurable. - -Nature, therefore, must be called upon to explain her own phenomena. -Since the laws of nature are found by investigating nature phenomena -as we experience them, the laws must be a part of nature and can be -found nowhere else. To explain nature phenomena by referring them to -spiritual influence is no real explanation. To say that God moves the -planets is to involve the subject in mystery. Here is where Galileo -shows that he does not belong to the Scholastics or the Mystics or the -Humanists. He searched for some constant element, and not for a “vital -force” behind nature phenomena. He declared this constant element -to be motion――measurable motion. He is the author of the theory that -mechanics is the mathematical theory of motion. Science was therefore -taken by him out of the paralyzing grip of the theologian. - -=The Life of Francis Bacon, Baron Verulam= (1561–1626). Francis -Bacon was a native of London and received his university education at -Cambridge. He was in the English diplomatic service at an early age, -but he later returned to London and took up the legal profession. At -the age of thirty-two he entered Parliament and became immediately -distinguished as a debater. At forty-three he became legal adviser of -the crown, and when he was fifty-six he was made Lord Chancellor. After -a brilliant career in public office he was accused and convicted of -bribery and corruption, deposed from office, and heavily fined. His -most notable writings are his _Essays_, two parts of his uncompleted -_Instauratio Magna_, viz., _De Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum_ and -_Novum Organum_, and his _New Atlantis_, a Utopian fragment. - -=The Position of Bacon in Philosophy.= Tradition has frequently placed -Bacon as the founder of modern philosophy. This estimate is due to a -remark by Diderot, which was repeated by many French writers. The -estimate, however, rests on a misapprehension of Bacon’s influence. -Bacon was more of a Humanist than a technical philosopher, and in his -constructive philosophy he seems not only to have had no influence upon -his contemporaries, but also to have been uninfluenced by them. He was -unconscious of the influence of Kepler and Galileo and their mighty -scientific constructions. Bacon’s _Novum Organum_, which embodies his -scientific methods, had no influence upon his own time, nor was it -read in the seventeenth century. Its influence was first felt in the -eighteenth century. However, all this must be qualified in one respect. -Bacon’s _New Atlantis_ did have an immediate influence. The ideal of -a college of science, which Bacon presented in his _New Atlantis_, was -not only the cause of the work of Diderot in his _Encyclopedia_ in the -eighteenth century, but what is more important, it had effect in his -own time. It led to the founding of the Royal Society, thirty-six years -after Bacon’s death, and later to the founding of similar academies -abroad. While the reader may be confused by the conflicting estimates -of Bacon, the words of his own countryman, Sir David Brewster, may be -accepted as embodying the truth: “Had Bacon never lived, the student -of nature would have found in the works and writings of Galileo not -only the principles of inductive philosophy, but also its practical -application to the noblest efforts of invention and discovery.” So -far from being the founder of modern science, Bacon developed only one -side of it, the inductive side, and that without success. He identified -deduction with the Aristotelian syllogism, and he was therefore unaware -of the importance of the use of mathematics in the method of deduction. -He did not seem to have the slightest idea that mathematics was going -to be the scientific method; consequently science has gone much further -than Bacon dreamed it would go. Bacon’s importance in the Renaissance -does not consist in his contribution to the content of philosophy or to -his successful formulation of the scientific method. - -Wherein then lies the value of Bacon’s work as a philosopher?[10] -Bacon was the first in England to collect the fruits of the Renaissance -and give them a secular character. Taking them out of the hands of -the theologian, he, a lawyer, “gave them a legal existence by the most -eloquent plea that has ever been made for them.” It was a time when -philosophy and science were passing out of the hands of the theologian; -and Bacon, feeling that science, including philosophy, should be -secularized, drew a sharp line between the work of science and that -of theology. Out of his great contempt for antiquity, Bacon voiced for -England the contemporary reaction against the old scholastic methods. -_He set up the ideal_ and gave directions for following it. He issued -the call to go from abstractions back to things. A man of worldly -wisdom and pungency, his nature was buoyant in its belief in the coming -age. He had confidence amounting to an optimism that final principles -would be found to explain all the particulars of the “new world.” -He was a prophet who outlined his prophecy. He felt that not only -nature but all the activities of man would be reduced to some simple -principles. He shared and expressed the confidence of his time that -wonderful things were to be revealed; that nothing is impossible to -man, provided man hits upon the right key to nature’s secrets. Just as -every age, that feels itself upon the threshold of a new epoch, writes -Utopias,[11] so Bacon wrote the _New Atlantis_, the Utopian fragment, -for his age. This is the literary expression of his optimism about -the future of a distinctively secular science. The world of the -_New Atlantis_ is the world of new machines. Bacon’s most ambitious -scientific contribution to the same end is his _Instauratio Magna_. -Of this only two parts were completed: _De Dignitate et Augmentis -Scientiarum_ and _Novum Organum_. Bacon is best known in philosophy by -the second part, which was thus named to contrast it with the “old” -_Organum_ of Aristotle. - -The high influence that Bacon gained later among philosophers may -therefore be accounted for by the association of his eminent position -and wonderful personality with his bold expression of this congenial -utilitarianism. Even in that rich Elizabethan age of English literature, -he was prominent as a writer and politician. He had occupied high -political positions under James I; but his peculiar personality would -in itself have attracted attention, for his genius was such that any -of the products of that age――even the plays of Shakespeare――have seemed -possible to him. Pope describes him as “the wisest, brightest, meanest -of mankind.” Macaulay says in his essay, _Bacon_, that there were many -things that he loved more than virtue and many that he feared more than -guilt. His career shows that he loved himself, wealth, and learning. -His unusual love for learning may be safely taken as his excuse for -his unscrupulous lust for wealth. His great versatility prevented his -success in any one direction, but he had the power of expressing the -feeling of his impressive age and of becoming its personal -representative. - -=The Aim of Bacon.= Bacon sought to secularize philosophy by making -it the same as science. It was the age when Nature was conceived to -be identical with the world of the natural sciences. Bacon stood in -this age as the formulator of the scientific usefulness of philosophy. -Philosophy is to ameliorate social conditions and enrich human life -by bringing nature under control. Ancient and mediæval times had not -been occupied with the improvement of human society, but Bacon was -inspired with the feeling of the modern statesman for such improvement. -The true test of philosophy, according to Bacon, is what it will do. -That philosophy is worth while which will effectively remove the -weighing conditions upon human society, so that there are no longer two -classes,――those that sacrifice and those that satisfy their ambitions. -This dominant utilitarian motive in Bacon sets him in opposition to -pure theoretical and contemplative knowledge, and makes him the father -of utilitarianism and positivism[12] in England.[13] Knowledge is -the only kind of permanent power, and man can master the world when -he gives up verbal discussions and belief in magic. Man must gain a -positive insight into nature. Science and philosophy must be separated -from theology, and philosophy must be reduced to science. Thus while -aiming to give a tangible form to the scholastic doctrine of the -“twofold truth,” Bacon through his utilitarianism missed the goal -reached by Galileo and Descartes. - -=The Method of Bacon.= Bacon says that the method of the scientist -should not be like that of the spider that spins a web out of himself, -nor like that of the ant which merely collects material, but like -that of the bee which collects, assimilates, and transforms. Bacon’s -original inspiration had been his respect for method, and this grew -more pronounced. Philosophy, _i. e._ science, is method. With Bacon -we see the beginning of philosophy cut loose from personality and -over-valued because it had mechanical accuracy. Nevertheless, the -method of Bacon was very comprehensive. It included on the one hand a -critical survey of the past, and on the other an anticipatory programme -for the science of the future. Let us now turn to these two aspects of -his method. - -(a) _Bacon’s criticism of the past_ was a trenchant criticism of -prevailing philosophy, and amounted to a break with the past. Bacon -felt that what passed for science in his day was but a pretence. In -the presence of the facts of life traditional science was but empty -words. The early thinkers are not the ancients. We are the ancients, -for we embody in ourselves all the preceding centuries. Thus does Bacon -swing from the mediæval blind acceptance of the past to an equally -blind rejection of the past. But why did the ancient thinkers err? -Not because they were not men of talent, nor because they lacked in -intellectual opportunity; but because their method of procedure led -them astray. The early thinkers followed wrong paths, and their results, -which we now possess, are vain. - -What must be our attitude in the presence of this traditional -philosophy? We must dispossess ourselves of the prejudices that have -misled the past, for they form the obstacles to our true knowledge of -the world. The roots of the errors that have infected philosophy are -“fantastic, contentious, and delicate learning.” We must not, indeed, -trust to our every-day perceptions; for although science is based -on our perceptions, our every-day perceptions are corrupted by our -uncritical habits of thought. Thus there have arisen perversions and -falsifications, of which we must first of all be rid. Bacon calls these -Idols.[14] Idols are false images, that intervene between us and the -truth and are mistaken for reality. Bacon makes four general classes -of Idols:―― - -(1) The Idols of the Tribe, or the presuppositions common to the human -race. - -(2) The Idols of the Cave,[15] or individual prejudices due to natural -individual disposition, situation in life, etc. - -(3) The Idols of the Forum, or the traditional meanings of words, -by which we substitute the word for the idea. These are the worst -illusions. - -(4) The Idols of the Theatre,[16] the theories or philosophic dogma, -which command discipleship from groups of men and have not been -subjected to our own criticism. - -Bacon’s classification of our prejudices as Idols is a critical attempt -to separate, in what passes for knowledge, the subjective, which has -become traditional, from the real. Logic, religion, and poetry have -had a bad effect on science, as is especially shown in the theatrical -character of philosophy. - -(b) Having dispossessed ourselves of our prejudices or Idols, we are -ready to proceed to a positive construction of a scientific method of -work. By what, in general, ought science to be guided? By induction and -experience. Bacon suggests the following steps for the science of the -future:―― - -(1) There must be an exhaustive collection of particular instances. - -(2) There must then be an analysis and comparison of these instances, -for to Bacon induction was not a mere enumeration of single instances. -Negative instances, and instances of difference of degree, must be -taken into account. Hasty generalizations must be avoided, and we must -ascend gradually from the particular to the general. - -(3) The simple “form” of the phenomenon must be discovered. Of the four -causes of Aristotle, Bacon emphasizes the “formal.” By “form” Bacon -means the nature that is always present when the phenomenon is present, -absent when the phenomenon is absent, and increases or decreases with -the phenomenon. The “form” is the abiding essence of the phenomenon. - -=The English Natural Science Movement.= The natural science movement -in England thus received at the start the impression of the sober -Anglo-Saxon mind. Through its entire history English philosophy -differed from that of the Continent. Here at the outset the Englishman -is skeptical, not only of scholastic deductions from dogma, but -also of deductions of all kinds.[17] He prefers the slow road of -patient empirical discovery. Even pure contemplative knowledge and -the deductions of mathematics have little charm for him. To be sure, -induction even in the hands of an Englishman demands by its nature the -establishment of a general principle, but Bacon would have refused to -use such a deduction to establish a new truth in the way that Galileo -used his mathematical hypotheses. According to Bacon, an hypothesis is -true only so far as it has already received the indispensable sanction -of experience. - -=Thomas Hobbes[18] and his Contemporaries.= During a certain period -Bacon had under him a secretary by the name of Thomas Hobbes. Here -was an obscure man turning to philosophy because of his interest in -politics; whose point of attachment to philosophy was the mechanical -theory of nature, so universally accepted by the scientists of -that time. No contemporary of Hobbes――neither Bacon, Descartes, nor -Galileo――had so systematic a philosophy. No other man succeeded better -in expressing all that was in his mind. Hobbes was one of a large group -of political theorists of the Renaissance. When the mediæval idea of -the universal Christian state, such as was embodied in Augustine’s -_City of God_, was no longer held, many of the Humanists tried to -construct theoretical systems of political government that would meet -the demands of the time. Macchiavelli, Thomas More, Bodin, Althusius, -and Grotius[19] belong to this group. Hobbes is best known in modern -times as a writer on this aspect of morals and politics; but politics -is only a part of his general mechanical system of the universe. He -is the forerunner of modern materialism, and his peculiar theory of -society is only an exemplification of this theory. - -In passing from Bacon to Hobbes we come to a very different type of man. -Bacon had risen to fame by his own genius, in spite of the hostility -of his powerful relatives; Hobbes was a hard-headed man, with a narrow -outlook, but with undoubted talents, which were fostered all his life -under the patronage of the Devonshire family. Bacon was a practical -politician; Hobbes was a doctrinaire and theoretical political writer. -Of the voluminous literary remains of Bacon his philosophy forms but a -small part; Hobbes had a general philosophical system, with which his -classical and theological studies have connection. - -In the succeeding chapter we shall review the philosophy of the -rationalist, Descartes, who was a contemporary of Hobbes. We shall -find that Descartes and Hobbes are alike in this: that both employed -Galileo’s mathematical theory as authoritative. They differed, however, -in the way in which they used Galileo’s theory. Descartes reduced -mathematics to the rational, and conceived it to be the instrument -of the reason; Hobbes reduced the rational to the mathematical, and -conceived the reason as a form of mechanics. The starting-point of -Descartes was the subjective, and he was held at a standstill until -the relation of thought and mechanics was solved by him. The point -of view of Hobbes was objective, and since all was mechanical, he -discussed only incidentally the relation between thought and mechanical -existence. Hobbes conceived the world in the terms of only one series, -the mechanical. Descartes’ main motive was to preserve the rational; -and, consequently, the world to him consisted of a double or dualistic -series of terms. We therefore place Descartes, with Spinoza and -Leibnitz, in a group called Rationalists. Hobbes was a materialist, -and his greatness consisted in going the full length of materialism: he -went beyond all the scientists of his time by extending the mechanical -theory to the mental life. - -=The Life and Writings of Hobbes= (1588–1679). The life of Hobbes falls -into five natural periods. In his first and last periods he was the -classical scholar. During his middle period of about thirteen years -he was the philosopher. Furthermore, at one time he was absorbed in -mathematics and at another in controversy. His period as mathematician -was begun not until he was forty years old, and was preparatory to his -creative philosophical period, which was begun when he was about fifty. - -1. _As a Classical Scholar_ (including his early years) -(1588–1628)――the first forty years of his life. At Oxford (1603–1608); -first journey abroad (1608–1612); beginning of his relations with the -Devonshire family and also of his acquaintance with the “new science”; -time of leisurely study (1612–1628) and acquaintance with Bacon, -Herbert of Cherbury, and Ben Jonson; translation of _Thucydides_ (1628). - -2. _As Mathematician_ (1628–1638). Second journey abroad (1629–1631) -for eighteen months as tutor to the son of Sir Gervase Clifton; reads -_Euclid_ while abroad; third journey abroad (1634–1637), when he meets -Galileo; begins to develop the conception of motion and sensation; -by 1638 he is counted among the notable philosophers and he meets the -Parisian scientists, Mersenne and Gassendi. - -3. _As Philosopher_ (1638–1651). Plans his philosophy under title of -_Elements of Philosophy_: _De Corpore_, _De Homine_, and _De Cive_, -which is interrupted by the English Revolution; _Elements of Law_ -(“little treatise”) written in 1640, read by a few in manuscript, -published without his consent in 1650 in two parts: _Human Nature_ -and _De Corpore Politico_; flees to Paris (1640) and enters again the -scientific circle at Paris; criticises Descartes’ _Meditations_; _De -Cive_ published (1642), which is _De Corpore Politico_ enlarged; acts -for a time as tutor to Charles II in Paris; engages upon his general -philosophical theory (1642–1645); _Liberty and Necessity_, written -(1646), published (1654); _Leviathan_ published (1651). - -4. As Controversialist (1651–1668). Flees back to London (1651); _De -Corpore_, published (1655); _Behemoth_, written (1668), proscribed and -not published until after his death; controversies with Bramhall, Ward, -Wallis, and Boyle; _De Homine_, published (1658). - -5. As Classical Scholar (1668–1679). Translation of _Iliad_ and -_Odyssey_ (1675). - -In Molesworth’s edition (1839–1845), Hobbes’ Latin works occupy -five volumes, the English eleven. The _Elements of Philosophy_――the -_De Corpore_, _De Homine_, and _De Cive_――were not published in the -sequence in which they were planned, but, on account of political -exigencies, in the above order. - -=The Influences upon the Thought of Hobbes.= 1. The premature birth of -Hobbes had no inconsiderable influence upon his life. When his mother -was carrying him, she had suffered a great fright, at the announcement -of the approach of the Spanish Armada. Was it in consequence of this -that Hobbes’s life was a series of panics and controversies? He was -extremely conservative in politics. He saw the new changes without -sympathy with either party, and he had no political ideals――only -fear. The time in which he lived reinforced this natural conservatism. -When he was translating _Thucydides_, Buckingham was assassinated -and the Petition of Rights was presented. Henry IV of France had been -assassinated not many years before, and the Puritan element had become -a disturbing factor in England. His study and his alliance with the -Devonshire family confirmed him in his conservative position. All signs -of the time pointed toward decentralization of government, toward war -and rebellion. In fear he was “the first that fled” to France at the -beginning of the troubles of Charles I; in fear he fled back to London -eleven years later, lest the Roman Catholics, whom his _Leviathan_ had -offended, should murder him. Hobbes was again in great panic over the -London fire and looked upon it as a divine penalty, on account of the -impurity of the English court. Hobbes was always in fright lest he -might not have peace. - -2. The father of Hobbes was one of the unworthy clergymen of the -English Established Church in the reign of Elizabeth. He was a -dissolute man, and after many escapades he abandoned his family. -In consequence of this Hobbes always had an antipathy toward the -offices of the church and toward theology. Although he claimed to be a -communicant, his allegiance was only nominal, as his theory will show. - -3. Hobbes was very much influenced by the new mathematical science. His -years at Oxford left little impression upon him, and he was but little -interested in the scholasticism which was taught there. Yet his twenty -years on the Continent brought him into the midst of the scientific -circles of Italy and France. He was well along into maturity when -he felt this influence. On his second journey, he read _Euclid_ for -the first time. He was then forty-three. On his third journey, he met -Galileo and the French scientists, Mersenne and Gassendi, and it was -then that he began his reflections concerning motion and sensation. -The writings of Kepler, Descartes, and Galileo influenced him mightily. -Although he acted as Bacon’s secretary after the latter’s fall, Bacon’s -influence upon him was little and has been overestimated. The mental -powers of Bacon and his secretary were different, and Bacon knew -nothing of the mathematical method. Hobbes shows to some degree the -empirical tendency of his nationality, and he believed that knowledge -must spring from experience. Further than this, the method that Bacon -pursued does not appear in him. _The mission of Hobbes was to construct -a mechanical view of the world._ - -Of the three influences upon Hobbes, his inherited timidity is seen in -his conservative political theory; the influence of his father is seen -in his theory of religion; the influence of the “new” mathematical -science is seen in his whole philosophy, especially in his psychology. - -=The Fundamental Principle in the Teaching of Hobbes.= The assumption -from which Hobbes deduced his entire philosophy was the mechanical -conception of the physical world,――the characteristic philosophical -assumption of his age. Hobbes’s contemporaries, both the natural -scientists and the philosophers, had, however, on the whole, restricted -the conception of mechanism to the physical world. Hobbes differed from -them all in universalizing the conception. He extended its application -from the physical over upon the mental realm, and thereby reduced -the mental world to physics. He stated this mechanical principle in -two parts: _all that exists is body_; _all that occurs is motion_. -Hobbes applies this assumption to the physical world and it gives -him materialism;[20] he applies it to knowledge and it gives him -sensationalism;[21] he applies it to the will and it gives him -determinism;[22] he applies it to morals and politics and it gives him -naturalism.[23] Body is nature; body is everything. Body is the first -term leading through man up to the State. With Hobbes, as with others -of his time, the political field was the whole ground to be penetrated. -The fundamental principle, by which Hobbes thought the whole field was -to be explained, is body in motion. The mental world became drawn into -the physical, and thereby his mechanical conception became the more -natural. - -There was one realm which Hobbes left untouched by his principle: -the realm of the spirit, _i. e._ God, souls, angels. The science of -bodies cannot deal with the supernatural, for the supernatural does not -consist of bodies in motion. Matter and mind are homogeneous; matter -and spirit are not. The contrast in Hobbes is not between matter and -mind, the material and the psychical, but between matter and spirit, -the material and the supra-material. - -=The Method of Hobbes.= Hobbes made the method of Galileo his own. -He believed that all knowledge is rooted in mathematics. There is one -true method of treating all subjects: the mathematical calculation of -them as motions of bodies. Knowledge consists in using words as the -signs of experience and in reckoning with them. Scientific thought is -the combination of signs. It is the rationalizing of our experiences. -Science has a truth in itself and stands as a rationally organized -world, quite different from the world of experience which it has -organized. The world of bodies in causally related motions is such -an organized world, the most systematized and most simply constructed -world that science can devise. But how does the scientist proceed? He -begins with a phenomenon, which is a body in motion, and finds out the -causes of the phenomenon, which causes are nothing more nor less than -the elements of the phenomenon in question. Then the scientist proceeds -from the causes to other phenomenal effects. These new effects are -like the original phenomenon and its causes,――bodies in motion. Thus -the world of the scientist is a world of causes and effects, for “the -natural reason of man is busily flying up and down among the creatures, -and bringing back a true report of their order, causes, and effects.” -Thus we find Hobbes to be a nominalist (see vol. i, p. 358) who, -nevertheless, used the deductive method――rather a strange combination. -Like all his English successors, he employed induction and deduction, -but the two processes never became fused.[24] Moreover for induction -he has no method. - -The order in which the writings of Hobbes appeared seems to have been -the sport of outward events, for they were not written according to his -original plan. On his return from his third journey to the Continent -(1638), Hobbes, then fifty years old, had adopted the mechanical theory -and had planned his philosophy. His comprehensive work was to be called -the _Elements of Philosophy_, and was to be divided into three parts: -_De Corpore_, treating physical bodies; _De Homine_, treating man as a -psychological individual; _De Cive_, treating man as the citizen of a -State. Hobbes’s philosophy was therefore to be a universal philosophy, -and he intended to bring his works out in logical order――first, the -science of physics, then of human nature, and last of society. However, -the growing disturbances in the political world at that time moved him -to publish several treatises on politics first, and his physics and -psychology more than fifteen years later. - -=The Kinds of Bodies.= There are two kinds of bodies, natural and -artificial. Natural bodies are those belonging to the physical world. -The artificial bodies are the institutions of society, of which the -most important is the State. Man belongs to both classes of bodies――he -has a physical nature and he is a member of the State. Man is the -connecting link between natural and artificial bodies. Philosophy -is therefore divided into three parts: _physics_, which treats of -purely natural bodies; _psychology_, which treats of man in his rôle -as a natural individual; _politics_, which treats of man in social -congregations with his fellows. Looking at the situation from the -other end, political bodies are decomposable into men, men are in -turn decomposable into physical bodies. Political bodies are dependent -on the psychical nature of men, and the psychical nature of men is -dependent on the nature of physical bodies, _i. e._ on bodies and their -motions. Thus all bodies, natural and artificial, must be explained in -terms of motion, if they are explained scientifically. Physical bodies -are the first term leading up through man to the last term in the -series, which is the State. - -=Hobbes’s Application of the Mathematical Theory to Psychology.= -Although the prime interest of Hobbes lay in the political life of -man, he nevertheless made an original contribution to psychology. -He snatched the science of mental phenomena from the hands of the -scholastic theologian and made it for the first time an independent -science. Psychology had been based upon the assumptions of the -theologian; for these Hobbes substituted the assumptions of the -mathematician. Consciousness became in his hands not a soul, but the -motion of bodies. It is described by him as “the movement of certain -parts of the organic body.” The states of consciousness, such as -sensations, perceptions, etc., are brain movements or the refined -movements of atoms in the nervous system. Memory and imagination -are “decaying sensations”; thought is the sum of several sensations; -experience is the totality of sensations bound together by the rigid -laws of association. Hobbes was the father of what is known as the -Associational Psychology, or the theory that consciousness is composed -of mental atoms under fixed laws of association. - -But although Hobbes took psychology out of the hands of the theologian -and made it a mechanical science, he did not identify it with physics. -It is still psychology. The mental states are the physical motion of -bodies, but they are not external motions, nor are they the copies of -the external motions of bodies. Mental states are brain movements; they -are the _result_ of external motions. They come about in this way. A -moving body in the outer world makes an impression on the sense organ, -and this motion is transmitted by the nerves to the heart and brain. -A reaction is effected in the brain, and this is a mental state. The -brain transformations, and not the movement of the external object, -is that of which we are conscious. The mental state is an “apparition” -of the actual fact in the external world; it is an effect in a causal -series. Our perception of light is, for example, a modification of the -cerebral substance, and not of the external body itself. We deceive -ourselves when we think that the sensations of light, sound, heat are -outside us. These qualities of things are modifications of ourselves. -There is nothing external to us, except the motions of bodies which -are the causes of these modifications. The external world is no doubt -real, but we have no knowledge of it――no knowledge of aught save the -motions of bodies within ourselves. _This is the point of view of -all subsequent English philosophy: the substance of things is quite -different from our knowledge of them. The substance of things is real; -but is not the object of our knowledge. The object of our knowledge is -a modification of ourselves._ - -The independence of knowledge with reference to theology on the one -side, and to physical reality on the other, is well illustrated in -Hobbes’s discussion of language. Speech consists of words, which are -only the counters of things. Words are markers by which men may know a -thing as “seamen mark a rock.” Science consists in their manipulation. -Science combines them by addition and subtraction into judgments and -syllogisms, and thereby constructs a body of demonstrated principles. -Words are only counters, and he is a fool who mistakes the counter for -the coin of reality. Words only represent reality, and the law of their -use is mathematics. Truth and falsity are terms that are concerned with -the correct or incorrect manipulation of these verbal counters and not -with real things. - -=Hobbes’s Application of the Mathematical Theory to Politics.= In the -same way that material bodies in motion give rise to mental states, and -mental states as bodies in motion give rise to the human consciousness, -so men as individuals are the source of the artificial body,――the State. -In every individual man the impulse to self-preservation is innate, -and is, in fact, his absolute and universal characteristic. Just as -the law of the mechanical association of ideas is the fundamental -principle of the human mind, so the mechanical law of self-preservation -is the principle of man’s ethical and political life. All our -political institutions are the result of the striving of men for -self-preservation. In his natural state――when, as Hobbes conceived, -man lived without social organization――man had no other standard -for conduct than his own self-interest; in the artificial political -state, which man has constructed, self-interest is still his motive. -Egoism is the sole working principle of human beings both before and -after they live in societies; but the political state is the most -ingenious contrivance which egoism has hit upon for its own profit. -Hobbes conceived that the original state of man, which under the name -of “state of nature” was a common problem in the Renaissance, was -a condition in which every man was making war against every other -man. (Compare Locke and Rousseau.) But such a condition of things -was obviously self-destructive. Consequently man arbitrarily and -artificially formed the political State to avoid this self-destructive, -internecine warfare. Under the circumstances it was the most effective -way in which man could gain his personal ends, for the political State -was the only possible means to peace. In the “state of nature” the -right of every man to everything was the equivalent of the right of -every man to nothing. So men made a compact with one another under -which each relinquished a portion of his rights in order that each -might have a portion of them secure. But what gives security to this -compact? The sovereign to which the powers of the many have thus been -delegated. What is the sovereign? It is the soul of the State, the -general will,――represented by a single person in a monarchy, by -an assembly in a republic. This sovereign, in whom the contract is -vested, is absolute; for the sovereign was not a party to the original -contract, since he did not then exist. The contract was made among the -individuals, at that time in a “state of nature.” So long as the State -preserves its power among the people, the people must render their -obedience to the State,――to the sovereign in whom the contract was -vested. The might of the political State makes right. Whatever the -State commands is right; whatever is forbidden is wrong. There was no -right and wrong in the “state of nature,” only the possible and the -impossible. An act is a crime when it breaks the contract, and thus -the ground of morality is political legislation. Even the religion of -the people is determined by the State. Any political State is better -than a revolution. Here was philosophical justification of Charles I. -A reversion to war is a reversion to the “state of nature.” - -When Hobbes was in France as a refugee he wrote the _Leviathan_, -which contained this doctrine of political society. He presented a -vellum-bound copy to Charles II, hoping to gain favor with that prince. -However, the _Leviathan_, unfortunately for Hobbes’s purpose, contained -two paragraphs that antagonized the royalists and the Catholics. One -was, that when a commonwealth is unable to protect its citizens in -peace, that commonwealth is dissolved and a new sovereign commonwealth -is formed. The second was, that while the sovereign state shall -decide what the religion of its people shall be, no religion is -infallible――neither Anglican, Catholic, nor Puritan. The religion that -the sovereign makes legal is only a temporary one; the true religion -will come not until the Last Judgment. The church is subordinate to -the State, like everything else, and it does not matter much what the -State religion shall be, provided there be peace. Religion is only a -superstition resting on a defective knowledge of nature, and it is of -little consequence what particular religion the State makes binding. - -It hardly need be said that the _Leviathan_ pleased neither Charles II -nor the Catholics. The sequel of its publication was that Hobbes fled -back to England from fear of assassination. - -=The Renaissance in England after Hobbes.= The philosophies of Bacon -and Hobbes do not exhaust, but merely represent the philosophy of -England during the Renaissance. Empiricism[25] had to wait for Locke in -the next period before it became dominant. After Hobbes Scholasticism -was narrowly confined to limited circles and appeared under the form of -Skepticism or of Platonism, neo-Platonism, or Mysticism. The reaction -toward Platonism was centred in a group of ethical scholars, called -the Cambridge School. It included Culverwell, Cudworth, Henry More, -and Cumberland. This Platonic movement was short-lived. The scientific -spirit, represented in the Renaissance by Bacon and Hobbes, dominated -the next period,――the Enlightenment,――and we shall find it spreading -its influence over France and Germany in the form that Locke gave to it. - -But the history of the philosophy of the Renaissance is not yet -completed. Contemporary with Bacon and Hobbes, there was a movement -on the Continent which was more characteristic of the Renaissance, and -indeed more important to it than the movement in England. This was the -school of Rationalists, to which we now turn. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE RATIONALISM OF THE NATURAL SCIENCE PERIOD OF THE RENAISSANCE - - -=The Nature of Rationalism.= Although the new science grew apace, -it was not altogether a safe vocation. Natural science involves -metaphysical questions at every point. The scientist at this time, -therefore, found himself often in delicate relations with the jealous -church guardians. A scientific explanation of the universe might -antagonize the church dogma concerning God, creation, and the final -outcome of the world. The church doctrine concerning the soul, too, -its nature and its immortality, its relation to the body, might -be antagonized by physiological and psychological discussions. In -such dilemmas as these the natural scientist was not successful in -pretending to isolate himself entirely from theology and in assuming -an attitude of aloofness to it. Galileo might declare that, whatever -the results of his investigations in physics might be, they had nothing -to do with the Bible; but he sorrowfully found that the Inquisition -thought otherwise. Copernicus found that his astronomical theories -came into conflict with church dogma, and he was tormented by his -bishop. Kepler spent his later years in a deadly struggle with both -Protestantism and Catholicism. Bacon and Hobbes lived in a country -where their personal safety was fairly secure, nevertheless Bacon -disguised his position by using large words and Hobbes was untroubled -because he accepted the religion of his sovereign. - -If the position of those was difficult who tried to keep themselves -strictly within the limits of science, how much more fraught with -personal danger was the position of those who openly constructed a -new metaphysics? It would mean that a challenge was issued to the old -Scholasticism by the same human reason that had already challenged -and overthrown the old science. The group of men who did this were -the Rationalists. The Rationalists were interested in science, but -they were more interested in the metaphysical problems that science -aroused. The human reason had been successful in the reconstruction -of physics by the use of mathematics. Why should it not also be able -to reconstruct metaphysics and set it, too, upon a mathematical basis? -The leaders of this school were Descartes, Spinoza, Leibnitz, and the -Occasionalists,――Malebranche and Geulincx. The Rationalists advanced -a new conception not only of nature, but of God; new theories not only -of the human body, but of the soul. Their task was the dangerous one of -bravely invading the hitherto impregnable realms of the spirit. - -The task of the Rationalists was rendered the more difficult because, -for the first time in the history of European thought, the inner and -outer worlds had been completely sundered. For the first time do we -meet with a clear-cut and positive dualism. The history of the growth -of this dualism had been a long one, and to it the Greek Sophist, -the Stoic, and the Christian had each contributed his share. However, -Galileo and his fellow scientists in this period of the Renaissance -had so reconstructed the old “world of nature” that it had become -irreconcilable to the “world of grace.” These scientists believed that -nature must be made to explain itself; its events must be conceived as -necessitated; its processes as having the inevitableness of a machine. -From the revolutions of the planets to the circulation of the blood, -the movements of nature can be measured. The law of nature, that -is conceived to underlie all this science, is mechanical causation. -The researches of the scientists of the Renaissance had yielded a -rich world of brute, inevitable, and scientific facts, and these -stood in absolute fundamental contrast to the world of spiritual -facts which were embodied in the church dogma. Apparently the problem -of reconciling the “world of nature” and the “world of grace” had -been solved by St. Thomas Aquinas in mediæval times. Now, however, -the “world of nature” had been so reconstructed that the question -was re-opened. How is the new “world of nature” to be brought into -harmonious relation with that old, persistent, and settled dogma of the -church? How can the newly conceived mechanism of nature be harmonized -with the realm of free conscious spirits, without giving up the -conception of God as a rational being, and also without depriving the -soul of its power of initiation? The new science had therefore made it -especially difficult on the one hand to reconcile a mechanical universe -with an omnipotent God, and on the other to reconcile the mechanical -human body with the free soul. - -The struggle of the Renaissance with the Middle Ages is therefore -concentrated in the development of the doctrine of this Rationalist -School. It is studied here even better than by reading the two periods -side by side. In Rationalism the Scholasticism of the Middle Ages and -the Science of the Renaissance meet. Rationalism was a new science, but -it was a new theology as well. It was a new scholastic philosophy; for, -while the Rationalists thought that they were giving the death blow to -mediæval philosophy, they were instead only replacing it with another -scholasticism. In their attempt, by means of the mechanical theory, -to get an absolute system of knowledge upon which thought can rest, -the Rationalists were acting in the spirit of the schoolmen. In fact, -no schoolman ever showed more vigor or more dogmatic confidence in -his philosophy. To the mathematical eye of the Rationalist there -was absolutely nothing mysterious in the physical universe or in the -spiritual realm. All things in heaven and earth could be made clear. -The declaration of the Rationalists was the call of freedom, but it -was as hazardous as it was ambitious; and the church with its assured -revelations always stood opposed to the realization of freedom. So we -shall find Descartes spending his whole life trying to trim his sails -that he may not offend the Inquisition; Spinoza saving himself from -both the Jews and the Christians by living in obscurity and publishing -nothing; Leibnitz constructing philosophy with the avowed purpose of -reconciling science and religion. - -=The Mental Conflict in Descartes.= The strife between the spirit -of the Middle Ages and that of the Renaissance appears in Descartes -more strikingly than in any other thinker of this time. He shows, -on the one hand, all the conservatism of a churchman of mediæval time -in his respect for institutional authority; on the other hand, his -intellectual activity places him among the leading scientists of the -Renaissance. In no other thinker does the conflict between the Old -and the New appear so unsettling; in none does the antagonism between -the scholastic world of spiritual things and the mechanical world of -science appear so irreconcilable. He suffered a life-long mental strife, -for within himself mediævalism and science were engaged in an unending -dramatic struggle. The philosophy of Descartes was a compromise between -his traditions and his scientific genius; and his philosophy never -overcame his conflicting motives. The admirers of Descartes have -called him the father of modern thought, and this is partly true. The -father of the modern scientific method was Galileo. Descartes, on the -other hand, pointed out the incontestable principle from which modern -thought has proceeded; he won his place in the history of philosophy -by attempting to harmonize the old scholasticism with the new science -under this single principle. - -=The Life and Philosophical Writings of Descartes= (1596–1650).[26] - -(1) _As Child and Student_ (1596–1613). - -At home until he was eight years old (1596– 1604). - -At the Jesuit school at La Flèche until he was seventeen (1604–1613). - -(2) _As Traveler_ (1613–1628). Descartes studies “the book of the -world.” - -At Paris (1613–1617), in retirement and study. - -In Holland (1617–1619), nominally attached to the army of Maurice. - -First Journey (1619–1621), going through Bavaria, Austria, north to -the shores of the Baltic and back to Holland. The greater part of these -two years were spent in Bohemia, enrolled in the army of the Emperor. -He was on this journey when his mental crisis occurred,――at Neuberg, -in Austria, in 1619. It was then that he discovered either analytical -geometry or the fundamental principle of his philosophy. - -In Paris again, 1623. - -Second Journey (1623–1625), to Switzerland and Italy, making a -pilgrimage to the shrine of Loretto. - -(3) _As Writer_ (1629–1650). - -In Holland (1629–1649). For the sake of absolute seclusion from -inquisitive visitors, Descartes changed his residence in Holland -twenty-four times and lived in thirteen places. All his correspondence -passed through Mersenne. During these twenty years he made three -journeys to France. Thus this period of absolute retirement became his -period of literary production, chiefly between the years 1635 and 1644. -He wrote his - -_Method_ (1635–1637). - -_Meditations_ (1629–1641). - -_Le Monde_ (1630–1632), published posthumously. - -_Principles_ (1641–1644). - -_Passions_ (1646–1649). - -(4) _In Stockholm, Sweden_ (1649–1650). The romantic side of the life -of Descartes appears in his book on the _Passions_, which he wrote for -the Princess Elizabeth, and also in his acceptance of the invitation -of the Queen of Sweden to reside at her court and become her tutor. He -died there from the rigors of the climate after a residence of one year. - -=The Two Conflicting Influences upon the Thought of Descartes.= On -the one hand, all the ties of inheritance, family influence, and -early education allied Descartes with the spirit of the Middle Ages. -A delicate constitution made him shrink from public controversy and -the public eye. He even made a half apology for his pursuit of science -by saying that he was seeking to reform his own life, and that it was -absurd for an individual to attempt to reform a state. His family on -both sides belonged to the landed gentry, and he was therefore bound -by caste to the support of institutional authority. He was educated -in the Jesuit school of La Flèche, and this most conservative of -ecclesiastical influences restrained him from following the logical -conclusions of his own thought. He was therefore both physically timid -and intellectually aloof. In 1632 he was about to publish _Le Monde_, -which was a scientific description of the origin and nature of the -universe, and agrees in part with the Copernican theory. It was a -treatise which would naturally conflict with the teaching of the -church. He learned of the trial of Galileo at Rome, and he never dared -to publish the book. - -The rival spirit speaking in Descartes was the new scientific spirit -of the Renaissance. He had a genius for mathematics even when he was at -school at La Flèche. On his going to Paris he became the centre of the -most notable scientific circle in France――a circle composed of such men -as the Abbé Claude Picot, the physician Villebressieux, the optician -Ferrier, the mathematician Mersenne, and many other scientists and -theologians. But he became dissatisfied and made some long journeys in -order to study “the book of the world.” His discovery of his method and -his philosophical principle was the result. In mathematics he was the -discoverer of analytical geometry and was the first to represent powers -by exponents; in physics he stated the principle of the refraction of -light in trigonometrical form; he explained the rainbow; he weighed -the air. The same industrious application of the new scientific methods -that yielded great results in science, also resulted in his development -of his philosophy. Love for original discovery made Descartes -disdainful of all scientific authorities and even contemptuous of his -notable contemporaries, Galileo and Harvey. He mentions by name Plato, -Aristotle, Epicurus, Campanella, Telesio, and Bruno, but he claimed -that he learned nothing from any one except Kepler. He felt himself to -be above criticism, and in his self-arrogating dogmatism he is the type -of the modern practical individualist. He defined truth as candor to -one’s self, and both in his practical life and in his theoretical ideal -there is an entire absence of utilitarianism. - -=The Method of Descartes.= Both science and scholasticism show -themselves in the method of Descartes. He attempted to construct -a philosophical method entirely in the scientific spirit of the -Renaissance, but in the application of it he showed his scholastic -training. Surfeited with inadequate and traditional methods he felt -the need of some single principle by which all knowledge might be -systematized, and he was sure that mathematics would furnish the -key. Rational science was to Descartes only mathematics. Truth is -to be found not in metaphysics, nor in empirical science. Descartes’ -philosophical aim was to establish a universal mathematics. Descartes -was not entirely faithful to Galileo’s mathematical principle in his -employment of it, and his influence in metaphysics was thereby all the -greater; for in the development of his method he found assistance in -the traditional scholastic methods. Descartes was original in insisting -upon finding the existence of an absolute and undeniable principle -before any progress could be made. Such an absolute principle can be -obtained only by an _inductive sifting of all ideas_. From this all -further truths must be obtained by _deduction_. Every true philosophy -must therefore be an induction or analysis of ideas, and secondly, -a deduction or synthesis. _The great contribution of Descartes was -therefore this: to the inductive method of Bacon and the deductive -method of Galileo, he added an absolute principle which must be taken -as the basis of both induction and deduction._[27] - -=Induction――Provisional Doubt――The Ultimate Certainty of Consciousness.= -The philosophical proclamation of Descartes was characteristically -French, for he demanded the same return to an uncorrupted nature for -the understanding that Rousseau many years later demanded for the heart. -The first step of Descartes was also French in its demand for absolute -clearness, which from his youth had shown him to be so passionately -fond of mathematics. The way to such clearness is through provisional -doubt. Let us purify the understanding by delivering it of the rubbish -of traditional opinions, taken upon the say-so of others. By this -negative induction of received knowledge, let us see if there is -anything positive and certain. In Descartes’s _Meditations_, in “a -dramatic dialogue with himself,” he portrays his own intellectual -struggle to gain uncontaminated truth. He makes an induction of all -kinds of knowledge and challenges each as it appears. Nothing is to -be accepted as true until it has proved itself true. All facts are -subjected to rigid scrutiny. Descartes doubts the testimony of the -senses, the existence of the material world, the existence of God. But -this induction is provisional, even if it is radical. While none of the -usually accepted truths are found by him to be undeniable and absolute, -yet Descartes has an ulterior purpose in challenging them. Greek -skepticism had no further end than doubt, while at the other extreme -Anselm and the orthodox scholastics had refused to doubt at all. The -method of Descartes is contrasted both with that of Anselm and with -that of the Skeptics, for he doubts in order that he may know. _Dubito -ut intelligam._ Doubt is necessary, but only as a means to an end; and -that end is knowledge. Descartes proclaimed for the modern individual -the privilege and the duty of rationalizing his own beliefs. - -In such an inductive sifting of traditional beliefs, are there any -that can be called knowledge? Is there one whose reliability cannot -be successfully doubted? Not a single one, except the thinking process -itself. I am certain that I am conscious. Even when in my universal -doubt I say that nothing is certain, I am at least certain that I -doubt. I am, therefore, contradicting my universal skepticism. To doubt -is to think; in doubting, consciousness is asserting its existence. -Skepticism is self-contradictory. An induction of our ideas reveals -at least this one absolutely certain principle: I, as thinking, -am. _Cogito ergo sum._ My own existence is an intuitive truth that -accompanies every state of mind. This is the best known portion of -Descartes’s philosophy, and perhaps it is in part to the Latin formula -of it that it owes its widespread acceptance. It is criticised as -trifling, even if it be true; and as reasoning in a circle. Yet -it must be remembered that Descartes does not intend the _ergo sum_ -(“therefore I am”) to be a conclusion of a syllogism of which _Cogito_ -(“I think”) is the minor premise. This formula is not an inference, but -an intuition, which is revealed by induction as the certain background -of all knowledge. - -Three things are to be learned from this fundamental principle, said -Descartes: (1) The first is that man has gained a criterion of truth. -The characteristic of this principle that makes it reliable and certain -is its clearness and distinctness. _Clearness and distinctness of ideas -is the proof of their truth._ All true ideas will therefore have the -mathematical and intuitive certainty that the idea of the existence -of the self has. (2) The second lesson from this fundamental principle -is that the existence of the soul is more certain than that of the -body. The soul is more important and independent than the body. This -is the subjective point of view of modern times. The modern man views -the world as the representation or the creation of his thinking soul. -(3) The third lesson from this principle concerns the nature of the -soul. How long do you exist? As long as you think. (_Sum cogitans._) -True existence is rational thinking, and God alone has it. Feelings and -passions are obscure ideas. - -=Deduction――The Implications of Consciousness.= For Descartes reality -lies within the Self; and the next question before him is how to get -out of the Self. Knowledge that is confined to the Self and its states -is called, technically, solipsism. Such knowledge amounts to little; -indeed, it is not knowledge at all. Certainty of self-existence is the -minimum amount of knowledge――merely the starting point of knowledge. -Descartes proposes to escape from this solipsism by the use of logic. -His method from this point on is ostensibly deductive, although he -introduces by the side door other ideas than the idea of Self to make -his proof complete. Descartes maintains that any idea will be as true -as the consciousness that accompanies it, just as a proposition in -geometry partakes of the truth of the axioms from which it is derived. -Now my consciousness contains many ideas; some of them seem to be -the product of my imagination; some seem to be adventitious; some are -innate. It is upon the innate ideas that Descartes depends to get him -out of his solipsism, for they are not created by the Self and they -have the qualities of truth――a conscious clearness and distinctness. -Among these innate ideas is the idea of God as a perfect being. - -=The Existence of God.[28]= As a deduction from consciousness, the idea -of God would prove to be a very useful one to Descartes, provided it -had reality. For it is evident that consciousness can testify only to -the existence of itself and its own states. How do I know the reality -of anything else? Am I confined within the circle of my own thinking? -Is all that I can say of this or that, “It is real to me”? Are all -things only the phantasmagoria of my own brain, testifying only to the -existence of myself? Descartes thought that the idea of God relieved -him of this solipsism. If he could demonstrate God’s existence, -he would then be able to demonstrate the existence of the material -universe. The problem was so highly important to Descartes that he -threw it into several different arguments. The complications with which -these arguments are filled must be passed over here, and the arguments -stated in their simplest forms. - -(a) Two are ontological arguments, that is, arguments from the -character of the conception of God’s nature. - -(1) _A Simple Deduction._ If I have in my consciousness any idea as -clear and distinct as my idea of Myself, it must have existence like -Myself. My idea of God has just that clearness and distinctness; and -therefore God exists. - -(2) _The Geometrical Argument_, so called by Descartes. Some ideas have -properties so immutable that, when we think the ideas, we necessarily -think their properties. Such is the idea of a triangle; when I think -of a triangle, I must think of it as having its three angles equal to -two right angles. Such is also my idea of God; I must think of him as -perfect and existing. He would not be God, _i. e._ a perfect Being, if -He did not exist. - -The reader will recognize this as a re-statement of the argument by -St. Anselm. As such it raised a tempest of controversy in Descartes’ -time, and was attacked from all sides. - -(b) Two are causal arguments, that is, based on the assumption of the -equality of cause and effect. Only one of these arguments will be cited -here. This is known as - -_The Cartesian Argument._ I have an idea of a perfect Being. This idea -must have an adequate cause. Therefore God must exist, for only He, and -no imperfect being, can be the adequate cause of my idea of perfection. - -The ontological arguments given by Descartes are evidently deductions -from the certainty of self-consciousness. The question which we -immediately raise concerning them is, Are they true? As to the causal -arguments, Descartes is breaking away from his original assumption, -viz., that self-consciousness is the only certainty, and is introducing -another assumption, viz., the certainty of the law of cause. The -question, then, that the thoughtful student asks, is, Does Descartes -really escape from his solipsism? - -=The Reality of Matter.= It will be seen that Descartes is trying -to deduce from the certainty of the idea of self-consciousness the -certainty of other ideas, as propositions are deduced in geometry from -axioms. The existence of God is an implication of human consciousness. -Now Descartes points out that the existence of matter is implied in the -existence of God. Descartes is interested in material science, and it -is important for him to prove the reality of matter. Here again his -scholastic training comes into play. Since God has all the attributes -of a perfect being, He must be veracious. If there were no God, but -only a deceiving Devil, the external world might be only a fiction, -created to deceive us. But God exists, and we can trust that He would -not continually deceive men about the existence of nature. An atheist -could have no science, but to Descartes, - - “God’s in His heaven―― - All’s right with the world.” - -Of course, man is constantly in error about the character of physical -things, but these errors arise from his misinterpretation of them. -Nature in some form lies before man, or else God in His truthfulness -does not exist. The essence of matter is extension (see below), and -whatever my interpretation of it, something extended lies before me -to be interpreted. - -This is the skeleton upon which Descartes constructs his theory. Even -this cursory examination of it shows the obvious attempt to explain -“the world of grace” by the method of mathematics, and it is quite -consistent with the spirit of the Renaissance. The existence of God -and the existence of matter are deduced in turn from the axiom of all -thought, the Self; while matter is further described as the extended or -the measurable. Thus Descartes has tried to construct a bridge between -the scholastic concepts and the science of the Renaissance. The three -realities, the Self, God, and matter, which Descartes often speaks of -as intuitively certain, have obviously a differing cogency. The reality -of consciousness is the ground from which the other two are derived. -In asserting its primacy, he is voicing the spirit of the Renaissance -even more clearly than did Galileo and Bacon. For Descartes in this -has gone back of the objective facts to a single subjective principle; -whereas the deductive principles of Galileo were objective. In this -respect Descartes is the founder of the subjective method of modern -thought, and in identifying the Self as the reason he became the -founder of rationalism. In any case he established a background for -epistemology, or the theory of knowledge. But in his derivation of -the other two realities――God and matter――he shows how persistent was -the scholastic current in his thought. Although he declared them to -be intuitively known, they evidently are not so in the same sense -that self-consciousness is; and he felt obliged to support them by -traditional scholastic arguments. - -=God and the World.= Leaving these fundamental principles of -Descartes, we now come to a consideration of a few of the details of -his philosophy. Descartes’ world is a dualism in which conscious being -stands in contrast with space objects. God is related to the world of -mind on the one hand and to the world of matter on the other. The order -in which Descartes came upon the three substances――the Self, God, and -matter――is, however, not the order of their reality. In reality God is -the _primary substance_, for He depends only upon Himself. Matter and -the Self are _relative or created substances_, for they depend upon -God. Matter and mind have different modes of appearing: the modes of -matter are form, size, position, and motion. The modes of mind are -ideas, judgments, and will. Thus mind is so essentially different from -matter, as can be seen in their respective modes, that God stands in a -different relation to each. - -=The Relation of God to Matter.= Descartes here investigates the realm -in which he has the deepest interest; but he makes a concession at -the very beginning. He divests things of their qualities and finds the -essence of matter to be extension. Qualities are not resident in things, -but are the result of our sensations. Sense-perception is knowledge of -qualities, and therefore obscure knowledge; while clear or intellectual -knowledge is of quantities. But there is one quality common to -matter,――extension. Space, extension, and matter are the same. There -is no space that is empty, no matter that is not extended. An extended -or material body has, however, in itself no principle of motion. It -cannot move itself. It must be moved by an external cause, and the -whole universe must be a mechanism whose movements have their first -cause in God. Matter in its modes of motion and rest has God as its -first cause or unmoved mover; and under matter is included everything -extended,――inanimate objects, the lower animals, and the bodies of men. -To this world of matter God stands in the relation of an inventor to -his machine. - -=The Relation of God to Minds.= The essential nature of minds -is thought. Mind is therefore different from matter because it is -unextended and free. The two relative substances have nothing in common -except that they are related to God. The relation of God to minds -is, however, very different from His relation to matter. God is not -the unmoved mover of minds, but He is the perfect and infinite mind -to which our finite minds turn as their ideal. God thinks and wills -perfectly what we think and will imperfectly. He is not the mechanical -but the teleological cause of minds, their _ens perfectissimum_, the -goal of all mental aspiration. - -=The Relation of Mind and Body.= In proportion as Descartes clearly -defined mind and body, and referred each back to its own principle, -the impossibility of connecting the two became apparent. Descartes -intended that his theory should, above everything else, clear -philosophy of all obscurities. So he divided the world into two -relative substances,――mind and matter,――each operating in its own -realm, each exclusive of the other. The intention of Descartes is to -be a consistent dualist. But there was one point where, with one eye on -the church, he had to qualify for ethical considerations his scientific -principle of matter. That is the point where the human body acts upon -the soul and the soul acts upon the body. - -There was little trouble for Descartes in conceiving the movements -of inanimate bodies, plants, and all the lower animals as purely -mechanical and automatic, with their first cause in God. From his own -investigations he felt obliged to regard many of the human functions -as automatic also. But his ethical and theological interests compelled -him to think of man as exalted above the rest of creation. Theology has -always been in a sense aristocratic, and has drawn a line between man -and other things. Man alone has a soul in his body. The soul of man -is immortal and free, and must therefore have control over the body; -nevertheless the soul of man must be conscious of the impressions -that come through the body. Here the science of the Renaissance and -the scholasticism of the Middle Ages refuse to be reconciled in the -philosophy of Descartes. When it became a question between Descartes’ -scientific theory of matter operating itself mechanically and the -church doctrine of a spiritual will operating the matter of the human -body, the scientific theory had to yield. How does Descartes yield -gracefully to the theological requirements and bring together the two -unlike worlds of matter and mind in the human personality? - -Descartes’ explanation of the relation of human mind and body reminds -us of the mythical explanations of Paracelsus. The soul is united to -all parts of the body, but its point of contact with the body is the -pineal gland, and this contact is made possible through the animal -spirits (_spiritus animales_) or the fire atoms in the blood, a revived -Greek conception. The pineal gland is a ganglion in the centre of the -brain, which biologists tell us is a defunct eye, but which Descartes -conceived to be the seat of the soul. Descartes maintained that -the animal spirits, having been distilled by the heart, ascend by -mechanical laws from the heart to the brain, and then descend to the -nerves and muscles. When they pass through the pineal gland, they come -in contact with the soul. The soul exercises influence on the body by -slightly moving the gland and diverting the animal spirits. In this way -the emotions and sensations are to be explained. The movement of the -pineal gland by the animal spirits causes sensations in the soul; the -movement of the gland by the soul changes the movement of the animal -spirits, and is an exhibition of free action. But this does not add to -or subtract from the energy. It merely changes the direction of energy. - -=The Influence of Descartes.= Although the philosophy of Descartes -was forbidden in the University of Oxford, was proscribed by the -Calvinists in Holland, and his works were placed upon the Index by the -Catholics, it created a profound impression on the theology, science, -and literature of the seventeenth century. It spread over Europe in a -somewhat similar way to the Darwinian evolution theory in modern times. -Its success was immense, many standard men rallied to its support, -and everything before Descartes was considered to be antiquated. Among -philosophers his doctrine had an internal development in a natural -way along the lines of the problems which he had left unsolved. A -philosophical development, the source of which can be traced directly -back to Descartes, went on until Kant published his _Critique_ in -1781. This has later been called the School of Rationalism in Germany, -France, and Holland. The most important members of this school――the -Occasionalists, Spinoza, Leibnitz, and Wolff――we shall consider in -their place. Descartes had an important immediate following in the -group, who go by the name of Occasionalists; but his most important -successor, who can hardly be called his disciple, was Spinoza. - -Descartes’ method had a peculiar fate. His followers misunderstood -it, exactly reversed it, and obtained very fruitful results. Descartes -himself had hoped to see induction employed in most metaphysical -problems. He regarded deduction as of use only in proceeding from -one self-evident fact to another. But the following Rationalists used -the deductive method entirely and tried to systematize ethics after -the manner of Euclid. They deduced their systems from some assumed -principle. This tendency was first seen in the Port Royal logic, and -was completed by Spinoza. - -=The Relation of the Occasionalists and Spinoza to Descartes.= The -development of the doctrines of the Occasionalists and Spinoza from -Descartes was an attempt to make clear the conception of _substance_. -Since substance was the most important scholastic category, it is easy -to see why Spinoza’s teaching became thoroughly scholastic. Descartes -had used the term “substance” in a very loose way to apply to God -as infinite, and to minds and bodies as finite. He speaks of God as -the only substance, and yet of consciousness and bodies as created -substances. Such ambiguity must be overcome, if a philosophy which -prided itself on making everything “clear and distinct” was to stand. -Descartes had fallen short of justifying his attempt to put metaphysics -completely upon a mathematical basis, although this had been his -original problem. The obscurity of the spiritual world still remained, -because Descartes had left the concept of the spiritual substance -undefined. The world of the spirit was still an unknown country. The -spiritual substance had not been made clear and distinct, and there -still remained the ontological problem of the relation between mind -and matter, and the psychological problem of the relation between the -individual soul and its body. - -Descartes had, however, defined clearly the concept of the substance -of matter――the substance with which the natural scientist works. He had -accomplished this, to be sure, by destroying the essential distinctions -between material things. A “thing” is essentially a substance in -which many qualities inhere, _e. g._ a piece of sugar having whiteness, -sweetness, etc. Material substances were alike in that all were -essentially extension. All else besides extension in any particular -finite thing was a modification of extension. A lump of sugar was -essentially the same as a lump of salt in that both were extension; the -saltness, sweetness, etc., were secondary. Now this makes the nature -of bodies very clear; and Descartes proposed to reduce the substance -of the states of mind to the same clearness, but he did not do it. -He was interested in natural science and he developed his rationalism -only with reference to matter. Bodies are parts of space or corpuscles, -which are mathematically infinitely divisible, but perceptually are not -further divisible. As far as he went, Descartes was clear enough. - -The Occasionalists and Spinoza represent the second stage in the -development of Rationalism. Both tried by making clear the meaning of -spiritual substance to define the relationship of God to the material -world. Both tried to state the problem in other words, to overcome the -dualism between mind and matter, and to reconstruct the old “world of -grace” so that it would be consistent with the new world of science. -The Occasionalists, whose chief exponents were Malebranche and Geulincx, -we shall dismiss with only a few words, while considerable attention -must be given to the teaching of Spinoza. Malebranche tried to do -for the mental world what Descartes had done for the world of matter. -Since no knowledge is possible except in God, he claimed that the -modes of finite minds――our ideas, judgments, imaginations――are alike -in essence in being modifications of the universal reason of God. -God is so far the “place of minds” as space is the place of bodies. -All our ideas participate in God’s reason, and all our volitions -are the modifications of the will of the Divine, just as bodies are -modifications of extension. What then is the relation, asked Geulincx, -between bodily movement and the states of consciousness? Why does my -arm move when I wish to move it? By the mediatory power of God. The -thought in my mind is the “occasional cause” of the movement of my -arm, while God is the true cause of the movement. The movement of the -human body is therefore, like the movement of all matter, a continuous -miracle caused by an ever watchful Deity, who keeps body and mind -in harmony. Spinoza completed his pantheism before Malebranche had -prepared the way. He formulated a complete doctrine of substance, -conceiving material bodies to be essentially the same in being modes of -extension, and mental phenomena to be essentially alike in being modes -of thought. But more important was his further teaching that on that -account the two series have no relation to each other. That is to say, -Spinoza reduced the whole difficulty to clearness and distinctness -by reducing the three substances of Descartes to one. For this reason -Spinoza was a more complete Rationalist than Descartes; and he was -assisted in this construction of a mathematical Rationalism by two -facts: he held himself strictly to the deductive method, and he -was free from social and ecclesiastical ties. Spinoza is the truest -utterance of his time in its effort to make all things clear; and this -is not contradicted by the fact that he had little influence in shaping -contemporary thought. - - Illustration: BARUCH DE SPINOZA - - (Pollock (_Spinoza, His Life and Philosophy_, p. xxvi) says - that only three of the portraits of Spinoza may reasonably be - considered authentic. One is a miniature of the philosopher - in the Summer Palace at the Hague; the second is a painting in - the Town Museum at the Hague; the third is the one given here, - which is an engraving found in copies of the original edition - of Spinoza’s Posthumous Works (1677). This portrait seems to be - somewhat idealized, but of the three it is the most artistic and - lifelike.) - -=The Historical Place of Spinoza.=[29] Spinoza did not get full -standing nor was he widely read, until Lessing, one hundred years -later, resurrected his teaching and Goethe adopted it. He produced -what the Renaissance was striving for, but what the Renaissance -could not yet grasp,――the complete logical formulation of its deepest -thought. Spinoza produced the only great conception of the world during -this period, and it excited the hostility of contemporary Catholics, -Protestants, and free-thinkers alike. The product of his thinking -was a new systematic scholasticism, which, if the time had been ready -for it, would have entirely superseded the mediæval. He succeeded in -placing metaphysics upon a scientific and mathematical basis, for his -philosophy was not only logical in its content but mathematical in its -form. Spinoza’s philosophy is the Renaissance expression of mediæval -scholasticism,――the expression of that rationalism that underlies -both the thought of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. It is as if -Thomas Aquinas had been transported into the Renaissance, and finding -that science would not support and explain dogma, had conformed dogma -systematically to the new science. Mathematically science was the new -dogma. Spinoza is the last word of mediævalism, although his language -is the science of the Renaissance. The utterance of Spinoza sounds -strange because, while his thought is mediæval, his expression and form -are scientific. - -Spinozism had a revival in the eighteenth century.[30] It formed the -background of the philosophy of Herder and that of the author of the -_♦Wolfenbüttel Fragments_. The connection of Lessing and Spinoza was -a matter of active controversy at that time. Spinoza was the great -influence upon Goethe. In the nineteenth century in England Coleridge -reproduced from Spinoza’s _Ethics_ the doctrine of an all-pervading -love and reason. - -Spinoza strove before everything else for a unitary system, and yet -it is interesting to see how much he has been honored from different -quarters. Artists, religious devotees, poets, idealists, materialists, -and scientists have found in him their truest expression. This is -not only because each has found something different, but because his -philosophy had actually a many-sided character. His teaching had the -advantage of being thoroughly radical. Bad systems of philosophy are -impossible, because they are contradictory. While no one knows that any -system corresponds to fact, still it is possible that a radical system -may have such correspondence. Spinoza’s system is comprehensive, and -therefore has struck sympathetic chords in differing thinkers. - -=The Influences upon Spinoza.= =1. His Jewish Training.= Spinoza -was born a Jew and remained a member of the Synagogue until he was -excommunicated at the age of twenty-four. Although he was the original -genius who transcends his limitations, his young mind was moulded after -the Jewish type. He received the strictly religious training of the -Jewish boy in the Jewish academy at Amsterdam, where he learned a trade -in connection with his studies. He studied the Talmud, mediæval Jewish -philosophy, especially the writings of Maimonides (twelfth century), -and the Cabalistic literature. In a Jewish curriculum the classical -languages had no place; and mathematics, except arithmetic, was -generally overlooked. His early instruction emphasized above everything -else the unity and the supremely transcendent, theistic character of -God. - -However, his separation from the Synagogue at this early age could -not but modify his theology. It made him a free Jew. He was no -longer under the restraints of Jewish traditions. While he never -abandoned his belief in God as a unity, he gave up his belief in the -transcendent theistic God of the Hebrew prophets; and he differed from -the contemporary Jewish Cabalistic teaching of emanations from God. He -seems to have so modified the orthodox Hebrew conception of God that -it rather resembles that of the mediæval mystic Christian. Perhaps the -influence of Bruno upon his thought may account for its final shape. - -=2. His Impulse from the New Science――Descartes’ Influence.= The “free -thinking” for which Spinoza was excommunicated by the Synagogue was -obtained first from his instruction in the school of Van der Ende, -a physician of daring naturalistic tendencies. This was when he was -eighteen. Spinoza had already learned Italian and French; Spanish, -Portuguese, Dutch, and Hebrew were his native tongues; Van der Ende -taught him German and Latin, and introduced him to the science of the -time. It was then that he read Descartes, whose philosophy he made the -basis of his own. Spinoza was not an inventive genius like Descartes -and Leibnitz, but he was more rigidly systematic than either. He was -by nature a thinker who was obliged to carry his thought through to -its logical conclusions. He had already, at this early age of eighteen, -begun to make independent theological excursions. Consequently the -mathematical methods of Descartes furnished him a method, and Van -der Ende gave him the encouragement for carrying out his independent -thinking unrelentingly to its logical end. To state his modified Jewish -conception of God in mathematical terms became his task, and his -success in thus stating it, with Descartes as a starting point, made -him the most complete representative of Rationalism. - -=3. His Acquaintance with the Collegiants.= After his expulsion from -his kindred, he lived for seven years with a sect of Baptist Quakers -called Collegiants. This was a dissenting religious body without -priests or set forms of worship. The members were simple, pious -people, who regarded moral living as superior to creed; and Spinoza’s -life in their midst must have determined to some degree the lines -of his thought. To a man of Spinoza’s simplicity of mind and kindly -disposition, the Collegiants would prove to be not only congenial -companions in his hours of distress, but they would confirm his own -love for the ethical as an ideal. Spinoza says that the motive of his -philosophy is a practical one; that he is seeking that which would -“enable me to enjoy continuous and supreme and unending happiness.” He -is seeking a theory of life that would aid in allaying the unrest of -his time; and he is the only philosopher who has called his metaphysics -_Ethics_. The humaneness of his doctrine, the practical purpose of his -writings, and the ethical ideal that informed his whole life had at -least their reinforcement, and perhaps their origin, in his contact -with the Collegiants during this critical period. His life with this -sect influenced him in his refusal to accept the chair of philosophy at -the University of Heidelberg, and to remain content to be the obscure -grinder of optical lenses. - -=The Life and Philosophical Writings of Spinoza=[31] (1632–1677). -The history of philosophy presents in the person of Spinoza a lovable, -interesting, and striking character, as well as the author of one of -the profoundest of philosophical systems. His life was one of social -isolation and retirement rather than of solitude. The Jews to whom -he belonged lived a kind of double exile――they were exiled from their -home in Spain, and they lived by themselves apart from the people -of Amsterdam. When Spinoza was excommunicated by his brethren, he -suffered, therefore, a threefold exile. Moreover, Spinoza was not only -excommunicated by his people, but he was hated by the contemporary -Catholics, Protestants, and the prevailing Cartesian school. Even the -free-thinker, Hume, spoke of him as “the infamous Spinoza,” and another -philosopher described his philosophy as “the hideous hypothesis of -Spinoza.” But his isolation was far from solitude, and he had many -eminent and faithful friends and a notable correspondence. Of his short -life of forty-five years, he spent twenty-four, or more than half, as -a member of the Jewish synagogue. During the next seven years he found -refuge among the Collegiants. In the last fourteen years of his life he -became widely known, mainly through the _Theological-Political Tract_, -published in 1670, the only one of his writings which he himself -published. This brought him the call to the University of Heidelberg, -which he declined. His life may be conveniently divided into three -periods, as follows:―― - -1. _In Israel_ (1632–1656). Spinoza was educated at the Jewish academy -at Amsterdam, where he studied theology and learned a trade, according -to the Jewish custom. This trade was the grinding of optical lenses; -that is, he became an optician, and this required some knowledge of -mathematics and physics. During these years he got instruction from -Van der Ende in science and Latin. He also read Descartes and learned -many languages. He wrote a compendium of a Hebrew Grammar, of which -the date is doubtful. In 1656 he was excommunicated by the synagogue. -The charges brought against him were that: (1) he denied that the Old -Testament taught the doctrine of immortality; (2) he affirmed that -angels may be only phantoms or ideas in men’s minds; (3) he affirmed -that God may have a body. - -2. _In Retirement_ (1656–1663). Spinoza spent this time with the -Collegiants, and this was his most fruitful intellectual period. -He brought his ontology, ethics, politics, and physics into a -unified system; and he formulated his theory of determinism and his -mathematical method. In 1658–1661 he was writing his so-called _Short -Treatise_, “concerning God, man and his well-being.” This was the first -draft of his _Ethics_. In 1656–1662 he was writing his _Improvement of -the Understanding_. In 1662–1663 he wrote a summary of the principles -of Descartes. - -3. _In the Public Eye_ (1663–1677). During this period Spinoza -lived at or near the Hague, where he had many visitors and a large -correspondence.[32] He was an intimate friend of the brothers DeWitte, -who made so large a part of the political history of the country. -In 1662–1665 he was writing his _Ethics_, his monumental work. In -1663–1670 he wrote and published the _Theological-Political Treatise_, -the only work published during his life. Although received with horror, -it was widely read. It aimed to show that the _Bible_ is history. In -1673 he declined the call to the University of Heidelberg. Just before -his death, in 1677, he wrote the fragment of the _Political Treatise_. - -=The Method of Spinoza.= The method which Spinoza employed in writing -his _Ethics_ must not be regarded by the reader as a fantastic dress -that he capriciously chose. It had for Spinoza a real and not merely -an external significance. On taking up the book, one finds philosophy -treated exactly as Euclid treated his geometry. Beginning with a -number of definitions and axioms, there are deduced, step by step, -propositions with appended scholia and corollaries. To Spinoza this was -not pressing philosophy into an artificial and rigid form, but was only -the natural mode of philosophical expression. For, in the first place, -if the new method of science had proved itself successful in treating -physical phenomena, why should not the same method have the same -success with problems of the world of the spirit――and in this way -bring the two worlds into harmony? By deduction one could then arrive -at absolute certainty and unassailable proof of the solutions of -metaphysical problems that had long vexed the Middle Ages. With the -perfect geometrical method all problems in heaven and earth could be -solved. In the second place, the religious conviction of Spinoza that -all things come from God required the deductive method to explain them. -The order in which we should study phenomena should correspond to the -real order in which they stand to God. God is the ground or reason of -things, and all are derived from Him as consequents. The deduction of -the relation of finite things to God will correspond to the real -relation in which God stands to them. - -=The Fundamental Principle in Spinoza’s Philosophy.= The philosophy -of Spinoza seems to be Cartesian in every respect except one; and -that one difference was like the leaven in the lump――it transformed -his philosophy into a radically different one from that of Descartes. -Spinoza’s point of departure was the philosophy of Descartes, all -his presuppositions are the fundamental principles of Descartes, and -the structure of his system seems to be that of Descartes. He has the -same respect for the power of the reason to know all truth, the same -faith in the omnipotence of the mathematical method, the same general -conception of substance, the same idea of the qualitative difference -between the worlds of thought and extension, the same belief in the -mechanical structure of the world of nature. He made these his own -and accentuated them. But he added to these a new and transforming -principle: he conceived that the substance, God, is not merely one -object of knowledge, but _He is the only object of knowledge_. He is -the only substance, and finite things are only modifications of Him. -Finite things are alike at bottom, and to know them truly is to know -God. - -This new principle transforms all the Cartesian elements in Spinoza’s -teaching. It changes the Cartesian theism into a pantheism; it -supplants Descartes’ theological orthodoxy with a naturalism and -Descartes’ doctrine of freedom with a determinism; and it turns the -cultured aloofness of Descartes into a benevolent mysticism. This -new principle becomes “the head of the corner.” The oneness and -universality of God is the single proposition from which Spinoza -deduced his whole philosophy. God is the ultimate ground whose -existence must be real, because it is conceived. The intrinsic -scholasticism of the philosophy of Spinoza appears in his definition -of substance, for it is only a condensed statement of St. Anselm’s -argument for the existence of God. Spinoza says, “By substance I mean -that which is in itself and conceived through itself alone.” There -are, therefore, two kinds of things: the thing that has existence in -itself and the things that have existence in something else. God stands -alone in the first class; all other things make up the second class. -Spinoza’s world is divided into two parts: God and the modes of God. -God is self-explanatory and self-existent, while everything else is -explained through Him. The only object of knowledge and the single -presupposition of existence is God. In a phrase that has become classic, -Novalis described Spinoza as a “God-intoxicated man.” - -=Three Central Problems in Spinoza’s Teaching.= We have already noted -that Spinoza was the chief exponent of “clearness and distinctness” -in this epoch when all mysteries were to be revealed. He sought to -articulate a metaphysics that would spread out the plan of the world -like a demonstration in geometry. His definition of substance is -perfectly intelligible; he accepted the mathematical analysis of -the material world into a world of extension, and that of the world -of conscious states into one of thought――all this for the sake of -simplification and clearness. How simple such a philosophy at the first -blush appears――the world is God and his modifications. As a matter of -fact it is one of the many examples of the irony of history that the -philosophy of Spinoza is one of the most difficult to interpret. Its -difficulties do not arise from its having a novel point of view, for on -the contrary it is one that appeals strongly to the popular imagination. -Its difficulties arise from its very simplicity, for, after all, human -life is so rich and varied that a simple formula will hardly express -it. From beginning to end Spinoza’s thought has a vagueness for which -the beginner in vain strives to find the cause. The cause lies in the -seemingly simple principle that God is all that really exists, and yet -the world consists of God and other things. - -From Spinoza’s effort to simplify matters emerged three central -problems: (1) The problem of the all-inclusiveness of God――the problem -of pantheism; (2) The problem of the unity of God――the problem of -mysticism; (3) The problem of the salvation of man――an ethical problem. -We shall now consider these problems in order. - -=The Pantheism of Spinoza――The All-Inclusiveness of God.= That -Spinoza’s philosophy is a pantheism appears at the outset in his -conception of substance; for the substance is all that really is. -Descartes had conceived of three substances,――God as the absolute -substance, and mind and matter as the two relative substances. But to -Spinoza there can be only one substance; for if there were two or more, -no one would be substance, since each would be conceived through the -others. If we think at all, we must think of substance as all-inclusive. -One might suppose that this preliminary statement would be all that -Spinoza could say about life: all that really is, is substance; other -things do not exist. But that would be a misinterpretation of Spinoza. -He does not mean that finite things are mere nothings. They exist as -unrealities; they exist as negations of the substance. If you prick -into the finite world, it does not collapse, like a balloon. It still -exists as an unreality. - -No person ever had the idea of infinity so profoundly as did Spinoza. -His idea of infinity is not merely that of the infinity of time -and space, which indeed affords a tremendous variety of possible -constructions, since space and time are each infinite. To Spinoza the -infinity of the substance is much more than these possible combinations -of time and space, for corresponding to the time and space series -is a series of mental states. Every event has a reason. Every one -of the infinity of events in the world of extension is paralleled -by some state of thought. But this is by no means the whole story -about Spinoza’s conception of infinity. Besides the infinite world of -time and space and the infinite world of corresponding thought, the -substance to Spinoza possesses an infinity of other attributes, each -of which is infinite. Spinoza piles up infinities upon infinities, and -thus conceives the substance as an infinity in an overwhelming sense. -Only two of the infinite modes appear to our limited human discernment: -the infinity of the mode of extension, and the infinity of the mode of -thought. - -Spinoza begins at once to tell us about the forms in which the -all-inclusive God appears to us. First, the substance has two -attributes, thought and extension. An attribute is “that which the -intellect perceives as constituting the essence of the substance.” Each -attribute in its turn manifests itself in modes: thought appears in the -modes of intellect and will, extension in the modes of rest and motion. - - Substance = God. - ┌────────┴────────┐ - Attributes = Thought Extension. - ┌────┴────┐ ┌───┴───┐ - Modes = Intellect Will Motion Rest. - -This bare skeleton of our rich and varied world appears very much -the same as that which one might find beneath Descartes’ philosophy. -However, Spinoza’s conception of substance transforms it into a -framework of a very different kind of philosophy. Since God is the -inclusive reality of it all, we have here a pantheism instead of a -dualism. The antithesis which in Descartes’ philosophy was between -extension and thought, now in Spinoza’s teaching is between God and -other things. - -What is the place of the attributes and modes in the all-embracing -and real substance? As to the attributes, Spinoza maintained that we, -as finite beings, do not know God in His character as substance, but -that He always appears to us through His attributes of thought and -extension. There are only these two attributes that the human mind -can know, although God as an infinite being must possess an infinite -number of such attributes. In our human world all things are either -thought-things or extension-things. Each of these two attributes is -infinite after its kind. Each fully expresses an aspect of God without -depreciating the value of the other. Each is fully adequate, just as a -table may be both white and hard without either quality infringing upon -the other. The attributes are the substance made more concrete. The -modes are in turn modifications of the attributes and more concrete -expressions of them and of the substance. Each mode is infinite after -its kind. Since God exists only in reality, He would not supposably -see from His point of view the world laid out in attributes and modes; -for these are only human ways of interpreting Him. While the critics -agree that the modes are human interpretations of the attributes and -therefore unreal, they disagree about the relation of the attributes -to God. Some maintain that the attributes are merely human ways of -seeing the substance, analogously to the modes――as if we saw God now as -thought and now as extension; others maintain that God is nothing other -than the sum of the attributes; of extension, thought, and the unknown, -infinite, other attributes. The difficulty lays bare the nerve of the -problem of pantheism, and probably Spinoza was not clear in his own -mind about the relation of the attributes to the substance. - -Spinoza speaks more definitely upon this same problem of the relation -of the modes to God. Is God the sum-total of all existent things, or is -He the principle behind them? Spinoza says that God is both. God is the -cause of the world, not cause in the way that the term is commonly used -nor in the sense that Descartes used it. God is not to existent things -the first cause or the unmoved mover of matter, or the teleological -cause of thought, as in Descartes. He is cause in the sense that a -triangle is the cause of its own three sides. He is the rational ground -(_ratio essendi_) or the logical reason for the being of things. In -this sense God may be regarded as the cause _both_ in the sense that -He is the sum-total of existent things or modes (_natura naturata_), -and in the sense that He is the immanent and energizing principle of -existent things (_natura naturans_). These conceptions as well as their -phrases Spinoza probably got from Bruno. - -The world is, therefore, related to God in that it follows directly -from the nature of God; God is related to the world in that He is -the logical ground of the world. Is God the creator of the world? No, -He is the world. Is God a person? Is He a self-conscious being like -ourselves,――an individual? No. The thought-aspect of God includes -our thought, but it is the very different infinite thought; the -extension-aspect of God includes our body, but it is the very different -infinite body. God has soul and body and an infinite number of -other aspects. _God is_――an unchanging, self-dependent being, whose -modifications are necessarily determined in their relation to Him and -to one another. Spinoza conceived the character of God exactly from -the nature of geometry. Just as all geometrical conclusions follow from -the nature of space and exist in determined and fixed relations to one -another, so everything finite follows from the nature of the Infinite, -and each finite thing is in a rigid chain of finite things of its own -kind――a chain without beginning or end. The necessity of the divine -nature appears in all, not as a series of emanations from God, but in -a series, each member of which is determined equally by Him. - -=The Mysticism of Spinoza.= _From the point of view of man_, mysticism -in speculative or religious thought has reference to the immediate -apprehension of God. Mysticism frequently accompanies pantheism, -and _from the point of view of God_ refers to the oneness of His -all-inclusive nature. Spinoza’s pantheism is also a mysticism which -involves the immediate apprehension of the divine by the human; -it involves the oneness of God and man. More often than otherwise -mysticism is animated by a religious motive, and Spinoza’s philosophy -is profoundly religious. We have already seen similar mysticism in the -Orphic-Pythagorean sect which formed so great a peril to Greek culture -in the sixth century B. C., in the neo-Pythagoreans and neo-Platonists -at the beginning of this era, in many of the churchmen of the Middle -Ages, especially Scotus Erigena and Meister Eckhart. Bruno and many -of the Humanists were mystics, and if we should wish to go outside our -field, we should find mysticism to be the prevailing attitude of mind -of the great Oriental peoples. Mysticism frequently is accompanied by -belief in occult spiritual appearances, but that is not necessarily the -case; nor was it the case with Spinoza. Spinoza’s mysticism was purely -intellectual. Although a religious philosophy with an immediate ethical -bearing upon conduct, it was a scientific relationalism that could not -tolerate the miraculous and the abnormal psychological phenomena (such -as clairvoyance, hallucinations, etc.). Spinoza is, on the contrary, -distinguished as a mystic because he interpreted the universe in -entirely non-human terms. His great service to mysticism lies in -divesting the reality of life of every human attribution and laying -bare a mathematical skeleton. The desire of the period to find a -greater unity in life was responded to by him in a mathematical -mysticism. To him the universe is not only divided into parts, not -only is there no opposition between God and the world, but life is so -completely a rational thing that no exceptional phenomena can occur. -He believed that any description of God or of nature in anthropomorphic -terms disunites life. Spinoza dehumanized the universe, conceiving -matter to consist of elements, and conceiving spirit to consist of -simple ideas. He resolved the personality of man into parts for the -sake of the unity of the universe, and he obtained scientific clearness -at the expense of humanity. Thus, instead of being able to say with -Descartes, “I think and therefore I am,” Spinoza could say, and wished -only to say, “God thinks” (_Deus cogitat_). - -Like the usual speculative mystic, Spinoza described his God in the -terms of formal deductive logic. God is the most real being, _ens -realissimum_. What is the most real being to a mystic? Would reality -contain any finite quality such as the world around us contains? Can -you say that God has this particular faculty, or is endowed with that -concrete attribute? Does God enjoy, love, hate; does He create and -destroy? But how can God be the real unity of the world unless He -contains in Himself everything in the finite world? We approach here -the threshold of _the problem of the concrete universal_, which has -engaged the attention of so much of modern philosophy. A concrete -universal is all-inclusive of finite existence, but at the same time is -a self-consistent unity. In contrast with the concrete universal is the -abstract universal, which is a unity, but outside of which all finite -existence falls. While it was undoubtedly the concrete universal that -Spinoza sought, his method could lead to nothing more concrete than -the abstract universals of Plato and the Schoolmen. The world of finite -things is included by Spinoza’s God in the same way that blocks are -included by a string which has been tied around them. - -Spinoza’s God is the most abstract entity which it is possible to -conceive. All finite things fall outside Him. No quality can be -predicated of Him, for to define Him is to limit Him. After the manner -of the “negative theology” (see vol. i, p. 283), Spinoza refused to -ascribe any quality to God. He does not feel, think, or will as we do, -nor can extension be ascribed to Him in the sense of finite spaces. -We can say only that He is not this and not this. Spinoza’s conception -of God is reached by dropping off all determinate qualities, until the -most general and most abstract term is gained. The barrenness of this -logical conception, its absolute emptiness and abstractness, makes all -description of it impossible. God is a bloodless entity, an absolute -logical necessity and the most abstract universal. Outside of Him falls -all that we call life. If this is God’s character, is He everything -or nothing? If the process of abstraction rises so far above every -limitation to an _ens realissimum et generalissimum_,――to the most -real and most general entity,――if all content falls away from God, -what does such an empty form amount to? The paradox in Spinoza’s -philosophy appears here as in the case of all mysticism――for the mystic -revels in paradoxes. This empty generality is all that really is. -God is everything, and Spinoza points out empirical proof of this by -insisting that the transitory life of man has its only meaning in such -a substance. God is not this particular thing nor again that finite -determination, but He is all these. He is the timeless reality of -the temporal world, the infinity of finite things, the necessity of -contingent nature. When therefore Spinoza speaks of God as having an -intellectual love for Himself, and when he says that the attributes -of thought and extension constitute the essence of the substance, he -is not giving finite characteristics to God. He is struggling with -language to express the inherent paradox of his philosophy. - -Moreover, the delineation of the finite world with God as a background, -as it appears from the point of view of a human being, is an inadequate -presentation of Spinoza’s profound conception of God. For the substance -is not merely a neutral point nor the central point of the universe. -The substance is all. All things have neither their explanation nor -their existence in themselves. God alone has an existence that explains -itself, and He is the reality and essence of all finite things. God -is immanent in the world. Just as the sides of a triangle get their -meaning from the triangle itself, so the significance of the attributes -and modes of the substance lies in the substance. - -The unity of Spinoza’s God is further suggested by the relation of the -attributes of thought and extension, however separate they must appear -in their quality and causal dependence. Both are aspects of the same -substance, in the one case in the form of extension, and in the other -in the form of thought. In the all-inclusive nature of God, presumably -each moment has an infinite number of correlative moments corresponding -to the infinite number of the attributes of God. Since to human beings -only two of these worlds lie in sight, only two corresponding modes -appear, but always two. This correspondence of the physical and -psychical throughout nature is called in later times _panpsychism_; -in the relation of the body and mind of a human being it is called -_psycho-physical parallelism_. This correspondence helped Spinoza -to solve the apparent dualism of the two worlds. While ideas are -determined only by ideas, and motions by motions, both series point -below to the divine substance which is the significance of both. They -are like the top and bottom sides of a piece of paper, neither side -constituting the piece of paper, but both being necessary to it. The -substance is immanent in thought as well as in extension. Both thought -and extension are aspects of God. The relation of thought and extension -through the Deity discloses the monistic character of Spinoza’s -philosophy and seems to prove that he cannot be a materialist, although -some critics have said that he is. The same reality is seen, now as -consciousness and now as extension. - -=Spinoza’s Doctrine of Salvation.= Spinoza divided his _Ethics_ into -five parts. The first is a treatment of the nature of God; the second, -of the nature and origin of the mind; the third, of the emotions; -the fourth, of human bondage; the fifth, of human freedom. This -most important writing of Spinoza, the only treatise on metaphysics -which has been called Ethics, is a practical philosophy of life and -redemption. The divisions of it, as they appear above, show that the -philosophy of life is looked at from two points of view: with reference -to the nature of God, and with reference to the nature of man. We -have above discussed the first point,――Spinoza’s conception of God, -whom he regards as pantheistic and mystic. But Spinoza’s conception of -the nature of the human being in relation to such a God is the other -pole of this subject. The problem of life from the human point of -view involves primarily the question of human freedom. Human freedom -and human bondage are conditions that depend upon the human as well -as the divine nature. By Spinoza’s eliminating the human element -from the nature of God, man himself has been reduced by Spinoza to an -insignificant detail in a machine-like universe. Yet for man in his -littleness Spinoza hews out a way to God in His greatness by his mystic -reconstruction of the universe. Existence in Spinoza’s pantheistic -mysticism is, after all, a sphere of wonderful grandeur for man,――more -wonderful and of wider utility than the existence which man is -ordinarily supposed to possess. Since God is the reality of everything, -man is deified; even the loss of man’s essential humanity is the -apotheosis of man. - -Human salvation and freedom consist in being like God; bondage consists -in being unlike Him, in mistaking the unreality of life for His reality. -We are endowed with the ability of forming an adequate idea of God -by means of our reason, but we are also endowed with the faculties of -sensation, emotion, and imagination. The latter faculties make man a -passive creature, for they bring him into dependence upon the things -that act upon him and into bondage to them. We are passive when our -activities are limited by such limited objects. While a passion seems -to be the most active and turbulent of our faculties, if we look at -it more closely, we find that instead of being active ourselves during -a passion, we are being acted upon by an external object. Only as we -are purely rational,――only through the reason,――are we purely active. -It is then that we are like God, free like Him, and then do we rise -from insignificance to greatness. Then we transcend our false ideas of -freedom and become necessary beings, for in God freedom is necessity. - -To be free from the passions and the finite things of the world we must -understand their nature; for to understand a thing is to be delivered -from it. An illusion is not an illusion when we know it to be such. To -see that all the passions, sensations, imaginations, and all the other -modes of thought are human limitations, is to dwell within the reason. -Spinoza’s freedom is not, as will be seen, freedom in the ordinary -psychological meaning of the term, but is the metaphysical freedom -of being identical with the deity and determined by no finite thing. -Freedom is rational knowledge. Nevertheless, freedom is ethical -also, for it consists in overcoming the passions by reason. Freedom, -therefore, has two sides: an escape from the emotions and an escape -from obscure ideas――the goal in both cases being the life of reason. -To attain freedom is to see the world as God sees it, which is the same -as the reason sees it. This is to see each finite thing as eternal. -Any concrete thing may be regarded by the human being as a finite and -isolated thing out of all relation to other objects; or the same thing -may be regarded as a detail of infinity. Looked at by itself, a thing -is seen partially and falsely, for no finite thing has its explanation -in itself. It is, however, seen truly when it is regarded, to use -Spinoza’s own celebrated phrase, “under a certain form of eternity” -(_sub specie aeternitatis_). This conception of eternity is one of the -most admirable in Spinoza’s teaching. When man rises through the reason -to the consciousness of the eternity of the truth of a thing, the thing -itself is transformed, and the man himself has gained salvation. Any -circle that I may draw is imperfect, every leaf upon the forest trees -is defective, all moral activities are wanting, if regarded in their -time-limitations. But below all the imperfections of the universe is -its absolute mathematical perfectness. There is nothing so abortive -and evil that it does not have its aspect of eternity. Side by side -with Spinoza’s conception of infinity is his conception of eternity. -Infinity is everlastingness, eternity is quality of being. Eternity -has no reference to time. One minute may be eternal. The infinity of -the substance is one aspect; the eternity of the substance is another. -That eternity gained through the reason is salvation and immortality. -God is reason, and by the act of the reason do we become one with Him. -Our knowledge is, therefore, the measure of our morality. Knowledge -and morality are the same; and whatever increases our understanding is -morally good; whatever diminishes our understanding is morally wrong. - -Nevertheless, from the point of view of the philosopher, there is -nothing in the world that is morally good or bad,――nothing which merits -his hatred, love, fear, contempt, or pity,――since all that occurs -is necessary. The philosopher’s knowledge of the determinism of the -world lifts him above the usually conceived world of finite things to -this mystic world, reconstructed by his intellectual love of nature -or God. Love for God will give to everything its proper value. It -is the highest form of human activity. Love for God is an absolutely -disinterested feeling, and is not therefore like human love, which -is the passing from a less state to a greater. Love for God is peace, -resignation, and contentment, for it is oneness with God. In fact, -the love of man for God is the love of God for man; it is the love -of God for Himself, since man cannot love God without becoming God. -Thus man intellectually recognizes his oneness with God, and rejoices. -Immortality is absorption in the eternal and necessary substance of the -world. It is a common misconception that immortality is duration after -death; immortality consists in looking at things under the aspect of -eternity. The finite man perishes, but man’s real self, which is God, -survives. - -=Summary of Spinoza’s Teaching.= The rationalism of Spinoza is the -final word of scholastic realism. It is a mathematical scholasticism -in which the attempt is to make clear by the method of deduction all -metaphysical problems. That the philosophical teaching of Spinoza is -inspiring and ennobling, no one will gainsay. That his philosophy is -not clear, is also true. In the beginning of his discussion, spirit is -subordinated to nature; at the end, nature is subordinated to spirit. -The result is that under the hands of Spinoza God has become a pure -abstraction and without content, the world is an illusion, dualism is -superseded by a monistic parallelism, individual activity gives way and -becomes a pantheistic determinism. Yet amid all this a reconstructed -world arises in which man is recompensed for all his losses by his -participation in _infinity_ and _eternity_. - -=Leibnitz[33] as the Finisher of the Renaissance and the Forerunner -of the Enlightenment.= Leibnitz is the last of the remarkable group -of Rationalists of the Renaissance, who so fully represent the spirit -of its Natural Science epoch. But Leibnitz also carries us into -the next period of modern philosophy――the Enlightenment. He is the -transition philosopher. If the reader will examine the dates of his -life, he will observe that Leibnitz lived until twenty-five years -after the Enlightenment was ushered in by Locke’s _Essay on the Human -Understanding_ (1690). But as Leibnitz had already formed his own -philosophy by the year 1686, even so versatile a mind as his could -not then renounce the Rationalistic point of view for a new one. Some -of his writings, such as his _Correspondence with Clark and Bayle_, -his _Theodicy_, and his _New Essays_, show that he participated in the -new movement of the next period. Yet the majority of his philosophical -writings show him to be a Rationalist. Although he may be called -the “father of the Enlightenment,” the body of his thought belongs -to the Renaissance. His main motive was that which animated all -Rationalists――of stating theology in scientific terms. The immediate -occasion for his doing this was the political necessity of peace among -the religious bodies of Germany. - -The effort of Leibnitz to restore the individual to his central place -in the universe was a _secondary motive_. It nevertheless makes him -the forerunner of the Enlightenment. Of the Rationalists, Leibnitz -speaks for the future, just as Spinoza for the past. Leibnitz unites -the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, just as Spinoza joins the -Renaissance and the Middle Ages. Spinoza is the Rationalist who -utters the final word of scholastic realism, while Leibnitz presages -the coming individualism. Spinoza’s philosophy is science buried in -traditionalism; Leibnitz’s is science breaking through traditionalism. -Spinoza harks back to universals and particulars, substance and forms; -Leibnitz points forward to vortex rings, energy, and dynamics. From -Leibnitz’s original purpose to rationalize theology, and to succeed -where Descartes and Spinoza had failed, there emerges a new motive. He -no longer lays the emphasis entirely upon the universal, but he shifts -it in part to the particular. The pantheism of Spinoza had systematized -the individual out of its reality. Leibnitz’s conception of the -individual as dynamic and his conception of the importance of the -infinitesimal redeem the individual and bring Leibnitz into more modern -times. To classify Leibnitz as a Rationalist is, therefore, not to -describe him fully. - -=The Life and Writings of Leibnitz= (1646–1716). Compared with -Descartes and Spinoza, Leibnitz had a life that was long in time and -rich in experience. Descartes died at 54 and Spinoza at 45, while -Leibnitz lived to be 70. In striking contrast with Spinoza’s career, -there was no time in the life of Leibnitz after his graduation from the -university that he was not in public service. He held the offices that -would naturally go to the hanger-on of princes――some of them grandiose -ones. While theoretically the interests of the three Rationalists were -the same, Leibnitz differed from his predecessors in that his study -of philosophical problems always grew out of some practical problem -or political occasion. Leibnitz was not an academic thinker, and his -“writings were called forth to estimate some recent book, to outline -the system for the use of a friend, to meet some special difficulty, -or to answer some definite criticism.” Philosophy was only one -of the interests of Leibnitz. He was jurist, historian, diplomat, -mathematician, physical scientist, theologian, and philologist. -Leibnitz was as much at home with the theories of Plato and Aristotle -of ancient time, with those of St. Thomas and Duns Scotus of mediæval -time, as with the science of Descartes and Galileo. He was precocious, -had a prodigious memory and a reactive mind. In the wealth of his -information and the productiveness of his genius, he stands with -Aristotle as unequaled. Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibnitz belonged to -the inner circle of scholars of the time, but Leibnitz was also in -personal touch with political affairs and in intimate acquaintance with -many of the important rulers. He was in the service of the Elector of -Mainz and later of George I of England when George was only Elector of -Hanover. He was distinguished by Peter the Great of Russia and Ernst -August, Emperor of Germany. He corresponded with Eugene of Savoy and he -was ambassador to Louis XIV of France. Sophie Charlotte of Hanover, who -married the King of Prussia, was especially interested in him, and he -wrote for her his _Theodicy_. The three great Rationalists came from -different strata of society. Descartes was a nobleman’s son, and he -voluntarily relinquished the life that Leibnitz was ambitious to enjoy. -Spinoza came from the lower class. Leibnitz was the son of a college -professor and belonged to the upper middle class. The ambitions of -Leibnitz reached for large ends, as often happens among educated people -in the middle walks of life. Among other things, he tried to reconcile -the Catholics and Protestants, and he tried to universalize language by -getting universal characters for all languages. - -The literary production of Leibnitz was enormous, consisting of -some lengthy works, but mainly of correspondence (at one time with -a thousand persons) and of dissertations to learned journals and -societies. No one book contains his philosophy――the _Monadology_ coming -the nearest to doing so. His most considerable work is his _Theodicy_. -He himself published in book form only two works: his university -dissertation on _Individuation_ and the _Theodicy_.[34] - -In spite of his many successes, the life of Leibnitz was not happy. -From death or other causes his noble patrons changed, until he was -left without a patron. His life went from bad to worse, and his death -occurred almost unnoticed. - -The seventy years of Leibnitz’s life fall into four periods. That -he passed through three of these periods by the time he was thirty -shows the voracity and versatility of his mental powers during their -formative and acquisitive state. It also reveals the unusual length -of his productive period,――from his thirtieth to his seventieth year. -Ten years after his productive period began, when he was forty, he had -completed his philosophical theory, so that the last thirty years of -his life were free for its elaboration and elucidation, and in part for -his departure from it. The details of Leibnitz’s life are as follows:―― - -1. _Leipsic and University Life_ (1646–1666). - -Leibnitz was the son of a professor of the University of Leipsic. He -entered the University at the age of fifteen; received his bachelor’s -degree at seventeen, and his doctor’s degree at Altdorf at the age of -twenty. He was offered a professorship on account of his thesis, but -he declined. He published as his bachelor’s thesis, _The Principle of -Individuation_ (1663). - -2. _Mainz and Diplomacy_ (1666–1672). - -Meeting Baron John of Boineburg, who became his patron, Leibnitz went -with him to Mainz, and entered the service of the Elector of Mainz. -At this time Leibnitz wrote many pamphlets at the Elector’s request, -on the religious and political questions of the day. He wrote _A New -Physical Hypothesis_ in 1671. - -3. _Paris and Science_ (1672–1676). - -Leibnitz began this period with a diplomatic mission to the court of -Louis XIV in 1672; but during the year both Boineburg and the Elector -died, and Mainz was no longer his home nor diplomacy his interest. - -He remained in Paris (and London) three years longer, and spent the -time in acquiring the “new science.” In Paris he met Arnauld the -Cartesian, Tschirnhausen the German mathematician, logician, and most -discriminating critic of Spinoza, and he studied with Huyghens the -Dutch mathematician. In London he met Boyle, the chemist, Oldenburg, -secretary of the Academy of Science, Collins, the mathematician, and he -corresponded with Newton. On his return to Hanover he called on Spinoza, -who showed him the manuscript of the _Ethics_. - -4. _Hanover and Philosophy_ (1676–1716). - -Leibnitz became court councilor and librarian to the Duke of Hanover -(Brunswick-Lüneburg). He was involved in a multitude of administrative, -historical, and political tasks, and he carried on an enormous -correspondence. Among other things he wrote the history of the reigning -family, which necessitated his going to Rome and Vienna. In 1684 -he published his discovery of the differential calculus, over which -arose the celebrated controversy as to whether he or Newton made the -prior discovery. In 1686, in his fortieth year, he constructed his -philosophical system. However, he showed his affiliation to the coming -age by introducing into his system in 1697 the term “monad.” _Nearly -all his important works were produced in this period._ In 1700 he -founded the Academy of Sciences in Berlin. He was instrumental in the -founding of an academy at St. Petersburg, and he planned academies at -Dresden and Vienna. - -=The Three Influences upon the Thought of Leibnitz.= - -(1) _His Early Classical Studies._ The father of Leibnitz, who was a -professor of moral philosophy at Leipsic, died when his son was young. -Left much to himself, the boy spent his time in his father’s library. -At eight years he had acquired Latin; at twelve he had read Seneca, -Pliny, Quintilian, Herodotus, Xenophon, Cicero, Plato, the Roman -historians, the Greek and Latin fathers. He became so absorbed in -scholastic studies that his friends feared that he would not leave -them, “not knowing that my mind could not be satisfied with only one -kind of thing.” There can be no question that this scholastic training -gave him a first hand and sympathetic appreciation of scholastic -philosophy. The Aristotelian conception of cosmic purpose, which he got -at this time, never left him. Among the writers of the Natural Science -Period he alone returned to Aristotle. He made Aristotle’s teleological -cause an integral part of his doctrine. His motto finally became, in -his _Theodicy_, “Everything is best in this best of possible worlds.” -While for a time he turned from Aristotle to Descartes, in his final -construction of his theory he borrowed more from Aristotle. - -(2) _The New Science and His Own Discoveries._ Leibnitz was more -fortunate than many of his contemporaries in that his university had -already included in its curriculum the study of mathematics. At the -age of fifteen he was devoting himself to mathematics at Jena, and he -said that the study of Kepler, Galileo, and Descartes made him feel -as though “transported into a different world.” Later in life he said -of himself, that at fifteen he had decided to give up the scholastic -theory of Forms for the mathematical explanation of the world. He -became acquainted with the theories of Hobbes and Gassendi in 1670, -when he was at Mainz. In 1672, at the age of twenty-six, when he was -in Paris, he made himself possessor of all that the celebrated circle -of Parisian scientists had to teach. He had gone to Paris a dualist; -he returned to his native land with the Aristotelian teleology side -by side in his mind with the Spinozistic conception of identity and -necessity, the Spinozistic method, and the mathematical theory of -the significance of infinitely small particles. The next ten years -(1676–1686) were spent in overcoming his own dualism by systematizing -these new theories acquired from so many sources. In 1680 he had -universalized the concept of force so as to apply it to both souls -and bodies. In 1684 he published his discovery of the differential -calculus, in which he has had to share honors with Newton. In 1685 he -asserted that the centres of force have individuality. He was led to -this conclusion on account of the discovery of small organisms by the -microscopes of Swammerdam and ♦Leeuwenhoek. In 1686 he successfully -organized his collected material into his final system, although it -was not until eleven years later (1697) that he called these centres -“monads.” Probably he got the term “monad” not from Bruno, but from the -mystic chemist, Van Helmont. - -Not only the content, but the form of his philosophy was determined by -his mathematical studies. His philosophical diction is remarkably lucid. -Mathematics reinforced his early resolve “in words to attain clearness -and in matter usefulness.” His later discussions contain many terms -that he had borrowed directly from mathematics. - -(3) _Political Pressure for Religious Reconciliation._ When Frederick -the Wise of Saxony in 1519 refused the crown of Emperor, Germany -was thrown into internal strife that in one hundred and thirty years -destroyed all its material wealth and depopulated the country. This -terminated in the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648) and the Peace of -Westphalia. Leibnitz was born two years before peace was declared. He -was the first German scientist in two hundred years. Both Catholics -and Protestants were weary of strife, and there was a general movement -toward religious reconciliation. Thus religious amity was the most -urgent public question. - -Pietism had been one of the movements in Germany during the recovery -of the country from the Thirty Years’ War, and it represented the best -side of German civilization at that time. It was a reaction on the one -side against the mechanical theory of the scientists, and on the other -against the destructive strife of the old and new confessions. The -mother of Leibnitz was not only a Protestant, but also a Pietist, so -that the subject of religion early formed an important part of her -son’s training. When he entered the diplomatic service of the Elector -of Mainz the question of religious reconciliation took practical form -for him. No doubt his philosophy as a theory of reconciliation grew -out of such practical issues, as they were presented to him at Mainz. -Leibnitz had, therefore, a part in the religious reaction in Germany -in the last of the seventeenth century, which aimed to reconcile the -divergent interests of religion and science. He tried to effect this in -no external way, by patching together irreconcilable elements, but in -an internal way, by an examination of fundamental principles. With his -early training, his theological reading, and his wide public experience, -Leibnitz was fitted to take a prominent part in the movement for -reconciliation. - -=The Method of Leibnitz.= Although the philosophers who immediately -followed Spinoza did not dare to accept his philosophical conclusions, -they adopted his method. They united it with the syllogistic processes -of formal logic for the deduction of all knowledge. This method became -very prevalent, as is seen in the practices of the German Cartesians -and in the preparation of academic text-books. Examples of this are -Jung, Weigel, who was Leibnitz’s teacher, and Puffendorf, who tried -to deduce by the geometrical method the entire system of natural right -from a single principle of human need. In the next century Wolff used -this method in writing his Latin text-books. - -When this aspect of Spinoza’s teaching was gaining a foothold in -Germany, Leibnitz came into sympathy with it through his teacher, -Weigel, and at first was one of its most ardent supporters. In jest he -showed by this geometrical, syllogistic method in sixty propositions -that the Count Palatine of Neuberg _must_ be elected King of the Poles. -In seriousness he believed that all philosophical controversies would -cease when philosophy should be stated like a mathematical calculation. - -Hobbes’s theory of words as counters to be used in conceptual reckoning, -the universal formulas of the Art of Lull and the pains which Bruno had -taken for its improvement, the Cartesian belief that the geometrical -method would prove to be an art of invention――all these were influences -upon Leibnitz, that committed him to the method of Spinoza and made him -pursue that method energetically. Leibnitz was part of the widespread -movement of the time to form a _Lingua Adamica_――a universal language, -which should discover fundamental philosophical conceptions and the -logical operations of their combinations. In brief, Leibnitz hoped to -form a philosophical calculus. - -What, asked Leibnitz, are the highest truths which in their -combination yield all knowledge? What are the truths, so immediately -and intuitively certain, that they force themselves upon the mind -as self-evident and thereby form the ground for the deduction of all -knowledge? They are of two classes: (1) The universal truths of the -reason, and (2) The facts of experience. The truths of the reason are -forever true; the facts of experience have a truth for that single -instance. But both are true in themselves and not from deduction from -anything else. They are “first truths,” for a thing is true if it -can be deduced from the reason or tested as an experienced fact. The -two kinds of truth are the rational or _a priori_, and the empirical -or _a posteriori_. The difference between the starting point of the -Rationalism of Leibnitz and the Enlightenment of Locke appears here. -Locke said, “There is nothing in the mind that does not come from the -senses.” “Except the mind itself and its operations,” added Leibnitz in -comment. - -But there is a difference between these two kinds of truth. The -truths of the reason are clear and distinct; the truths of experience -are clear but not distinct. Leibnitz is, be it observed, making -a distinction between the two terms of the pet phrase of the -Rationalists――“clear and distinct ideas.” He means that rational truth -is so transparent that it is impossible to conceive its opposite; that -empirical truth is only clear, and its opposite is thinkable. It is -impossible to think that the three angles of a triangle equal anything -but two right angles, but it is possible to think that its side, which -is now two inches, may be four inches. Thus emerge the two logical -principles upon which Leibnitz founded his philosophy: rational truths -depend upon the _Principle of Contradiction_; empirical truths depend -upon the _Principle of Sufficient Reason_. At first Leibnitz conceived -that this distinction between truths did not apply to God, but only to -man. Man must rejoice in the few rational truths in his possession and -be content with merely establishing the actuality of his experiences. -The divine reason can, however, see the impossibility of the opposite -both in rational and in empirical truth. Later on Leibnitz conceived -the distinction between the two kinds of truth to be absolute. That is, -in the nature of things the two truths differ. The rational truth has -no opposite, but is a _necessary_ truth; the empirical truth has an -opposite, and is a _contingent_ truth. - -Leibnitz thus shows the fundamental principles upon which knowledge -is based, but what does he say about the logical method of their -combination? Nothing. No one would ever suspect from Leibnitz’s -philosophical remains that he had planned a system of philosophy -according to the method of Spinoza. The many pamphlets of Leibnitz on -many scattered subjects show how far short he fell of his ideal of a -universal philosophical calculus. He was too versatile, his interests -were too diversified, to carry through so slow and plodding a task. -He merely stated the principles upon which a systematic symbolic -philosophy might rest, without developing these principles in a logical -way. Like Bacon, Leibnitz conceived a method that was more of a hope -than an accomplishment. - -=The Immediate Problem for Leibnitz.= Perhaps Leibnitz was called -away from this purely theoretical problem of method by the practical -problem of reconciling science and religion, which problem in his -day had become particularly acute. For science had made rapid strides -since the days of Descartes, had drawn very far away from religion, -and Leibnitz’s attempt to reconcile science and religion was much -more difficult than that of the preceding Rationalists. Leibnitz had -accepted the most radical results of science, but he saw that science -had yielded only a mechanical view of the world. Politics demanded in -the exigencies of that hour some principle of unity. He sought to find -some philosophical principle for the _living, religious character_ -of the universe, and a principle that at the same time would preserve -the results of science. He therefore sought to leave the conception of -mechanical nature intact and go behind it for a teleological principle. -He examined the mechanical principles of the science of his day and -found them embedded in a deeper metaphysical principle. - -=The Result of Leibnitz’s Examination of the Principles of -Science[35]――A Plurality of Metaphysical Substances.= What was the -developed scientific principle of Leibnitz’s time? And what was the -result of his analysis of it? The principle was the mathematical -principle of Galileo in more complex form, for there had been added -to it since Galileo’s day the concept of the atom. That is to say, -the fundamental scientific principle was that nature consists of the -measurable movements of atoms. From his analysis of this, Leibnitz -obtained as follows his conception of a plural number of substances, -which he called monads. - -1. Leibnitz first scrutinized the scientific conception of motion. -His analysis of motion into infinitely small impulses by the method -employed by Galileo, Huyghens, and Newton had already led him to one -important discovery――the differential calculus. Now he scrutinizes it -further and discovers that the fundamental ground of motion is _force_. -While Leibnitz was in entire agreement with other scientists in their -effort to reduce all phenomena to motion, he insisted that motion -was not by any means the fundamental thing. He calls the Cartesian -conception of motion the antechamber of true philosophy. There is no -absolute motion nor absolute rest. Motion and rest are relative to -each other. Descartes’ theory that there is conservation of motion -is incorrect. Motion and rest are the phenomenal changes of force. -Force alone is constant and conserved. Physics points beneath itself -to metaphysics; motion points to force. Force is what is fundamental -in nature. Force is “that which in the present state of things brings -about a change in the future.” Therefore force as the substance of -nature is super-spatial and immaterial, and therefore the basis of -the new physics ought to be dynamic metaphysical substance. - -2. Leibnitz next examined the scientific conception of the atom. -Gassendi, one of that celebrated group of Parisian scientists, had -been the author of the introduction of Greek atomism into modern -thought. It had been generally accepted by scientists and combined with -the mathematical hypothesis of Galileo. Leibnitz had known Gassendi -in Paris, and he took the hard, inelastic atoms of Gassendi under -examination. He agreed that the atomist was perfectly correct in saying -that material bodies consist of simple parts or atoms. But Leibnitz -insisted that the atomist erred in thinking such simple parts to be -physical. However simple the parts might physically appear to be, -they were not really simple. However small a bit of matter may be, it -may be divided again, and the dividing process may go on to infinity. -The atom is the extended, and the extended cannot be simple or real. -Substance must be unextended, and the materialists were wrong in -attributing substance to the extended. Is there anything simple that -has a qualitative character? Is there anything real below the physical -atoms? Yes, the metaphysical atoms. The indivisible, immaterial unit -lies beneath the physical atom, and in order to reach it we must -pass beneath the physical into the metaphysical. This immaterial -or metaphysical atom is called by Leibnitz the _monad_; and thus is -Leibnitz’s theory called _monadology_. - -There are three kinds of points, or units, or “simples.” There is the -mathematical point, which is simple enough, but it is only imaginary. -There is the physical point, or atom, which is real but not simple. -There is, lastly, the metaphysical point, or monad, which is both real -and simple. The metaphysical point is the only true point. To call the -material atoms real, only shows “the feebleness of the imagination, -which is glad to rest, and is, therefore, in haste to make an end of -division and analysis.” - -3. Leibnitz then identified force, as the substance of motion, with the -metaphysical atom, as the substance of the material atom. The result -was the monad, as he conceived it. The monads are the principles of -active working. They are the super-spatial and immaterial principles -in which the mechanical principles of the universe have their roots and -meaning. Nature is not dead; it is not merely extended. It is alive, -resistant, and reproductive. If, as Spinoza taught, there were only one -substance, nature would be non-resistant and passive. But as a matter -of fact there are many substances acting for themselves, many bodies -resisting other bodies. They are the centres of separate activity, and -there are as many forces as there are things. There is no body without -movement, no movement without force. Thus does Leibnitz reintroduce -vitalism in a maturer form than is seen in neo-Platonism. Life becomes -the principle of nature. Purpose is placed at the centre of things. - -=The Double Nature of the Monads.= The student will find that the -philosophy of Leibnitz is spoken of as a pluralism, but the student -will also find that Leibnitz devoted nearly all his strength to prove -that the world is after all a unity. Leibnitz analyzed the world into -a plural number of parts, and the question then with him was, how to -put these parts together again in an organic unity. This accomplishment -would depend a good deal upon his conception of the nature of the parts. - -The monads have a double character. Leibnitz conceived the monad (1) as -a force centre and (2) as an immaterial soul. This makes an equivalence -of psychical and physical attributes which reminds us of the Stoics’ -“fiery reason” of God. The word “force,” as Leibnitz uses it, squints -both toward physics and toward psychology. But such ambiguity about the -monads, the cornerstones in Leibnitz’s philosophy, assists Leibnitz’s -reconciliation at the start. Here, in a miniature, the physical and -spiritual lie in unity. The monad is conceived as a _soul-atom_. - -Leibnitz came to philosophy with a mind saturated with the mathematical -ideas of the continuous, the infinitesimal, and the possible. He -thought of the monads as potentialities or possibilities. He looked -upon the world as essentially a developing world. Behind the facts -that seem to us inflexible, lies the great world of generating force. -Explanation of the actual can be made only in view of what the actual -may be and has been. Let us enlarge the scope of man by so widening his -conception of the actual that it will include the possible. Leibnitz -also spoke of the monads as infinitesimal. He thereby lifted the -conception of the infinitesimal from the realm of mathematics into -that of metaphysics, just as Hobbes universalized the conception of -mechanics by lifting it to metaphysics. Leibnitz, therefore, did not -regard the limits of perception as the limits of nature: the reality -of a nature object must be too small to be the object of perception. In -the same way he made use of his mathematical conception of continuity. -Leibnitz’s conception of nature-continuity is one of his contributions -to philosophy. Within itself the world of nature consists of a -continuous gradation from the lower to the higher forms; and also the -world of nature is continuous with the world of the spirit. There are -no leaps in the series from matter to God. Seeming differences in kind -are only differences in degree; for example, evil is only the absence -of good; matter is only an obscure idea of spirit. - -But this Leibnitzian atomism consists of soul-atoms. These monads, -these force-centres are souls, and the mathematical qualities have a -place in Leibnitz’s description of the psychical powers of the monad. -The monad is a soul, for soul is the only substance in the universe -that may pass through many changes and it, itself, not change. The self -is the only subject of which many predicates may be asserted, while -it, itself, may not be the predicate of any other subject. The idea -of myself underlies all my mental states. The monad is an entelechy, -or an entity having its purpose within itself. All its attributes are -contained within itself, and it is, therefore, by nature, sufficient -unto itself. It is an individual which passes from one state to another, -moved by its “constitutional appetition.” - -Among the psychical powers none is more important in Leibnitz’s -description of the monad than its power of representation. -Representation is the general function of the monad――from the lowest -to the highest monad. This means that each monad is the world force, -yet in a particular form,――a world substance, but in some peculiar -aspect. Every monad is a microcosm. Each represents the world so -far as it is conscious of its own activity. But it is evident that -all things in the universe are not conscious, and therefore all -soul-monads are not conscious. In souls there are, therefore, more -than conscious thoughts――there are thoughts that are unconscious. -Among the Rationalists Leibnitz is the first to give significance to -the so-called unconscious states that form so important a place in -modern psychology. (But see Plotinus.) As a wave is composed of small -particles of water, so the mind is made up of a myriad of unconscious -states. The conscious state is the general effect of the whole. A -soul-monad contains in itself at all times representations of the whole -world, some obscure, some clear. This power of universal representation -makes the monad a microcosm. What we call knowledge of the external -world is our representation of it within ourselves. This representation -is possible to us because we reproduce it in miniature. Since the monad -directly perceives only itself and its own states, it follows that -the more clearly and distinctly it is conscious of its own activities, -the more adequately does it represent the cosmos. The converse is also -true――that the more a monad represents the cosmos, the more truly does -it represent itself. - -In his development of his description of the monad, Leibnitz hits upon -two catch-phrases, one of which presents his doctrine of the physical -isolation of the monad, the other presents the doctrine of its ideal -psychical unity. These phrases are: “the monads are windowless” and -“the monads mirror the universe.” By “windowless” Leibnitz means that -each monad is “like a separate world, self-sufficient, independent -of every other creature.” “Having no windows by which anything can -enter or depart,” the monad can perceive only its own states. Whatever -happens to it comes from itself alone as a purely internal principle. -The monad’s development is self-development and not the result of -external changes. Nevertheless the monad is a “mirror of the universe.” -In this psychical qualification of the nature of the monad, its -physical isolation vanishes and the way is open for a unity of monads, -which would have otherwise seemed to be physically hopelessly sundered. -How is it possible for each of the numberless monads, all so different, -to “mirror the universe”? The answer is found in their psychical power -of representation. - -=The Two Forms of Leibnitz’s Conception of the Unity of the -Substances.= The principle of unity among the monads is called by -Leibnitz a _preëstablished harmony_. He presented this principle -of harmony in two ways. In part the harmony comes out of their -constitution, as he conceived it to be. In part Leibnitz artificially -superimposed it upon the monads for theological reasons. In either case -it is preëstablished. - -=The Intrinsic Unity of the Monads――The Philosophical Unity.= There -is a family resemblance among the monads. The lowest reproduces the -universe in obscure and elementary representations. Minerals and -plants are sleeping monads with entirely unconscious ideas. Animals -are dreaming monads. Man is a waking monad. The highest monad is God, -who reproduces the universe in clear and distinct ideas. Between God -and matter there is a series of monads, graded as to the clearness -of their ideas. All contain the universe by representation. All are -bound together according to the principle of continuity; plants are -lower animals and animals are less perfect men. Man is a monad whose -conscious activity has risen to the height of self-consciousness, with -the cognate power of reason. There is no inert matter; no soul-less -bodies nor body-less souls. The smallest portion of dust is the -habiliment of animalculæ. Nothing is dead, and nature is a gradation -of monads in differing degrees of activity. - -Metaphysically the monads are isolated, yet in nature as we see them, -they live in groups, and compose the things which we call plants, -animals, and men. An organic thing is a combination of monads with a -central ruling monad. This central monad is the soul of the group; the -subordinate ones form the body of the organism. The influence of the -soul or ruling monad upon the body-monads is purely ideal. They all -strive for the same end, which the soul represents more clearly. The -group acts spontaneously and together, not from any outside influence. -An inanimate object differs from such a living organism, inasmuch as -it is a group of monads without a soul or a ruling, central monad; -and therefore such a monad is both soul and body. There is therefore -no dualism between soul and body in any creatures, for body is only -obscure or unconscious activity. The body consists of monads having a -confused sense of their activity. - -This continuity and unity within the world, as Leibnitz sees it, is -only the logical development of the unity with which he originally -endowed his monads. Although he starts the monads as “windowless,” he -also says that “they mirror the universe.” They are so conceived as -to be originally physically separated, but psychologically and ideally -united. “Their natural harmony resides in an ideal of perfect activity, -while in actual existence they are independent.” The ideal which unites -them is God, the last term in the graded series of the monads. He is -the monad of monads, because He is perfect, conscious activity. Just -as the various groups of monads are ruled by a central soul-monad, so -the world of these groups is an hierarchy, which derives its unitary -and harmonious character from this dominating monad. The world may -be likened to a pyramid with God at the apex. The world is like a -machine which differs from other machines, in that its parts are little -machines. Although the parts seem to operate separately, they are under -the dominating control of God. God is their intrinsic unity and the -universe is a preëstablished harmony. - -A comparison with Spinoza’s conception of the world of nature brings -out Leibnitz’s meaning effectively. Both philosophers conceive nature -phenomena to be under the law of mechanical causation. To Spinoza, -however, all phenomena are qualitatively alike; there are no grades or -distinctions of value between them. All are modes of substance and all -illusions in the sight of God. To Spinoza phenomena are homogeneous. -Leibnitz’s estimate of the world of nature is quite different, and for -him nature has a far richer endowment. The phenomena of nature are not -homogeneous. Their difference does not consist in their content, but -in the degree in which they represent the universe. The law of nature -is a unifying principle that gives unitary individuality to the members -under the law. The individuality of the terms of the nature-series -is implied in the very nature of the law of necessity, and on the -other hand, the individual terms, for their part, transform the law of -necessity into a principle of unity that is higher than bare necessity. -In a necessitated series, Leibnitz points out, each term is determined -by the preceding, and in turn each term determines the events that -follow. Thus, while nature phenomena are a series and a necessitated -series, it is a series whose existence depends upon each event having -not only its place, but its unique place. No other event can fill that -place, and the conditions that give the event its place constitute its -individuality. Every finite event has, so to speak, its formula, and -this gives individuality to each term of the series, which appeared -to Spinoza only as a homogeneous, mathematical, and characterless -mode. Life is meaningful to Leibnitz, because each member of the -necessitated series of events has its unique part to play. The changes -of life are to Spinoza void of meaning, because he conceives them -to be undifferentiated. The law of mechanical necessity became under -Leibnitz’s hands a principle of harmony, a teleological principle. Even -in the necessitated mathematical series, such as Spinoza conceived the -world to be, Leibnitz believed that necessity implies individuality and -individuality implies purpose. - -How vital, therefore, does life now appear, with its mechanical members -transformed into living units! Universal striving or force fills nature, -and the surging of individual forces gives a new meaning to the unity -of the whole. The mechanical series――the physiological changes of our -bodies and the efficient causes in nature――are only the expression -of the inner teleological development. Leibnitz points out several -pregnant principles that are aspects of this preëstablished but -intrinsic harmony. In the first place, nature has no breaks and abhors -a vacuum; and the series is a continuous one,――_the law of continuity_. -Member follows member in continuous and graded order. Their qualitative -differences are differences of quality of activity. Rest and motion, -good and evil, are differences of degree. In the second place, there -is nothing superfluous; no two things in nature are alike. If they -were alike, they would be identical――_the law of the identity of -indiscernibles_. Although there is no absolute antithesis or contrast -between things, there is no absolute likeness. Every monad must be -differentiated from every other intrinsically, _i. e._ according to -its perfected activity. Therefore, in the third place, every member -has an excuse for being――_the law of sufficient reason_. Every member -has its part to perform and no other can act as an understudy for it. -However insignificant any member may appear to be, it is as unique as -its bigger neighbor. - -=The Superimposed Unity of the Monads――The Theological Unity.= The -intrinsic unity of the monads is derived naturally from the monads -themselves, but it is an unattained ideal for which they strive. When -Leibnitz turns his philosophy into a theodicy, or justification of the -nature of God, this unity of the world takes on a different form and -assumes a theological importance. The unity is no longer an intrinsic -unity, with no actual but only ideal existence depending upon the -highest monad in the series, but is an actual personality who exists -apart from the world. The world is his eternal purpose. Probably this -conception was always in the background of Leibnitz’s thought, but it -cannot be deduced from his philosophy. It is a conception afterwards -superimposed upon his philosophy. Leibnitz now conceives God not as an -ideal goal, but as a perfect and actual person, whose reason impelled -Him to construct the best possible world. The world in which we live -is the world He chose. It is perfectly conceivable that the world could -be different. Why, among all the possible worlds, did God choose to -construct this world? There is no reason in logic, but in fact. There -was no necessity for its construction. The fact is the excellence of -the world. Spinoza said that all possible worlds exist. Leibnitz said -this best possible world exists. Look about you; is it not so? - -The best possible world is a world of free agents, whose acts are -rewarded or punished according to their deserts. If we discover what -seems to be inexplicable evil, we must regard it as an incident in the -harmony of the whole. The world would be less good without evil. There -is no more evil than there ought to be. The world which God conceived -to be the best possible――this world――is a world of lights and shades. -Evil comes from the free agency of man, and God is not responsible -for it. It is better to have evil and free agency than no evil and no -free agency. Evil after all is not positive, and is only due to the -indistinct ideas of man. It is the absence of good, as cold is the -absence of heat. - -Thus a preëstablished harmony was constructed by Leibnitz that does -not come out of his original philosophical premises. Leibnitz used his -celebrated figure of the two clocks to illustrate the harmony of the -monads. Two clocks keep the same time, not because they influence one -another (interaction), nor because the maker moves the hands of one -(Occasionalism), but because they have been thus constructed by an -intelligent Creator. Thus the harmony of the world implies a personal -God. Leibnitz’s philosophical Rationalism here passed into theology, -and his metaphysics became an ethics. Leibnitz began with a monadology, -and by means of the conception of harmony passed to an optimism. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE ENLIGHTENMENT (1690–1781)[36] - - -=The Emergence of the “New Man,”――Individualism.= In passing to this -period we should recall the two objects of interest that distinguish -modern from mediæval thought: the “new man” of modern Europe; and -the “new universe”――new in its geographical outlines and in its -intellectual materials. We have already found that the two hundred and -more years of the Renaissance, the first period of modern thought, was -absorbed in exploiting the second of these objects――the “new universe.” -In fact the “new man” had been so interested in the “new universe” that -he had not thought of studying himself. He had systematized the great -wealth of his acquisitions and had constructed great systems of science -and metaphysics. - -This second period of modern thought――the Enlightenment――begins -when the “new man” turns away from his intellectual struggles with -his environment and attempts to understand his own nature. Thus the -more important of the two objects emerges last; and this turn to -self-reflection constitutes the century of the Enlightenment. The -Renaissance had been subjective and spectacular; the Enlightenment was -subjective and tragic. The mental activity of the Renaissance had been -vital, spontaneous, and unconscious, like the awakening from sleep; -that of the Enlightenment was self-conscious and attitudinizing. -The man of the Renaissance had been in love with nature; the man -of the Enlightenment was in love with himself. Like the Greek -Sophistic Illumination, which is its parallel in ancient history, the -Enlightenment turned away from cosmological and metaphysical problems. -On the other hand, the philosophy of the Enlightenment penetrated -all departments of life and found expression in practical questions. -Erdmann has well expressed the meaning of these nine decades of the -Enlightenment as “an effort to raise man, so far as he is a rational -individual, into a position of supremacy over everything.” It was -during this period, which we are now about to enter, that Herder -brought into currency in Germany the word “humanity.” In England the -same sentiment was uttered by Pope in 1732 in his _Essay on Man_:―― - - “Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; - The proper study of mankind is man.” - -The Enlightenment marks, therefore, the rise of modern individualism; -and the concerns of the individual become the important object of -consideration. The novelty of the great discoveries and inventions of -the Renaissance had lost its lustre. The “new universe” had become old -and familiar, but through his accomplishments the “new man” had begun -to feel the strength of his liberated powers. For had not the wonderful -world of the Renaissance been his own accomplishment? Had not all its -notable constructions been the creations of his powers? The “struggle -of traditions” to revive antiquity and to incorporate the “new -universe” upon an old basis; the “strife of methods” to reorganize the -“new world” upon a new basis――revealed this great fact: that man has -“world wisdom.” Man in his supremacy occupies the entire foreground, -and interest in the “new universe” fades away. The “new universe” is -now seen in the light of one’s personal interests. Man is supreme, -and to his word there can be no exception. There is constant reference -during this time to the “light of reason”――to a bright inner, -rational illumination in contrast to the vagaries of mysticism and the -obscurities of dogmatism. The worship of genius arises and with it a -contempt for the unenlightened. “Thus would I speak, were I Christ,” -said Bahrdt. No wonder that Goethe described the Enlightenment as an -age of self-conceit! - -=The Practical Presupposition of the Enlightenment――The Independence of -the Individual.= The “new man” emerged from the Renaissance as the most -important object of consideration, and during the Enlightenment there -was never the slightest question about his independence. The individual -became the original datum of this period into which we are now entering; -he was considered to be the only thing that is self-intelligible; -he was the starting-point from which all social relationships were -to be explained. Among the many problems that arose, the independent -existence of the individual remained unquestioned. It was the period -of “liberty, equality, and fraternity.” The problems were about the -relations of the individual; never about the individual himself, -for concerning the individual no problem could arise. The individual -rejoicing in the exuberance of his own powers, the “monad enjoying -himself,” dominated everything. The monadology of the Renaissance -became an atomism in the Enlightenment. The individual was the -practical assumption of the period. - -=The Metaphysical Presupposition of the Enlightenment.= There was a -metaphysical background to this practical assumption of the individual. -This was the Cartesian dualism of mind and matter. Although the -eighteenth century despaired of a successful metaphysical construction -of the “new universe,” and although its attention was riveted on an -analysis of human relationships, it must not be supposed that the -period was without its metaphysical bias. Such is not the nature -of human history; and if an epoch refuses to discuss metaphysical -questions, it is because it assumes some metaphysics as true. The -assumption of the independent individual implies the independent -existence of matter. The Enlightenment assumed the Cartesian theory as -correct. While many were the polemics against metaphysical speculation, -the Cartesian dualism was nevertheless in control. Here within is the -independent existence of mind; and it would naturally follow that there -without is the equally independent existence of matter. The conception -might fade into a ghost-like dualism, as in Berkeley and Hume, but -the dualism never entirely vanished. This has since been known as -the philosophy of “common sense,” and is to-day the easy attitude of -those not interested in metaphysical discussions. “Common sense” means -the opinion of the majority as to truth. Most people to-day, as then, -accept without question some sort of dualism, usually the dualism of -mind and body. - -=The Problems of the Enlightenment.= The area of inquiry was thus very -much restricted during this period. Nature lies beyond our ken. God is -still more incomprehensible. From the study of nature and God, let us -turn to a study of the problems of the inner life. Yet while the field -of study was restricted, the problems within it were multitudinous, -and there was an astonishing breadth and universality, a tenacity -of everything, a disdainfulness of nothing. Within its own field the -Enlightenment sought to systematize and to stand by any idea in spite -of all opposition. The imagination took bold flights and, from the -standpoint of the inner individual life, tried to transform its world. -Overloaded with ballast, it tried to reconcile the irreconcilable and -to overlook the brute facts of existence. The problems arise from an -age that is self-opinionated, self-tormenting, and subjective. - -The problems of this age may be divided into two classes,――utilitarian -and critical,――both having reference to the individual man in his -relations. These include the problems of psychology, epistemology, -sociology, economics, politics, etc. There was, for example, the -problem of our knowledge of the external world, of the validity of -innate ideas as the basis of knowledge, of the rational basis of -religion. Thought was very alert at this time, as is always the case -in times of great individualism, and thought could move with great -rapidity over the wide range of such subjects. - -(a) =Utilitarian Problems.= The Enlightenment was curious about -the interests, the happiness, and the many powers of the individual. -Empirical psychologists and brilliant ethical scholars appeared. How -much can man know, and what are the limits and extent of his knowledge? -The Rationalists of the Renaissance had accepted without question the -mediæval teaching that a group of our ideas is innate and therefore -God-given. The Middle Ages had been built up on revealed knowledge. -But to the thinkers of the Enlightenment the most important ideas――yea, -the only ideas of service to us――are those derived from experience. We -should be happier if we confined ourselves to the facts of every-day -life, and did not try to deal with things beyond experience. Let us -give metaphysical theories to the Churchman. Empirical psychology -thus took the place of metaphysics, and became known as philosophy. -It was the favorite science of the time, and the basis of ethics -and epistemology. Philosophy thus came out of the school, and -became a public utility. It was based, to be sure, upon theological -preconceptions, but it was to be put to the service of man. It was to -be an instrument of discovery as well as a means of grace. With this -psychological incentive great schools of moralists arose, especially in -England: studying morality as based on the intellect, on the feelings, -on authority, on the association of ideas. - -Empirical psychology led to self-inspection, and this is the age -when self-inspection was universal. It is the age of the founding of -“societies for the observation of man.” It is the age of sentimental -diary writing. Rousseau wrote his autobiography in France, and it -was followed by a flood of autobiographies in Germany. Even memoirs -of such scoundrels as Laukhardt were written and read as matters of -public interest. Religion, too, took the form of personal experiences -and individual conversions; and the church was more interested in the -experiences of the saved than in the dogma of salvation. The Methodist -movement arose in England and spread over the continent and to America. -Individual opinions were more important than conventions; friendships -than marriage; societies than corporations. The historical was lost -to view because the personal and particular occupied the foreground. -Gibbon said, “All ideas were equally true in the eyes of the people, -equally false in the eyes of the philosophers, equally useful in the -eyes of the magistrates.” - -(b) =Questions of Criticism.= In the second place, the Enlightenment -is a period of criticism and stands in contrast with the constructive -Rationalism of the Renaissance. From Locke’s invective against innate -ideas to Hume’s skepticism of the law of cause, from Voltaire’s -examination of the foundations of religion to Rousseau’s polemic -against society, the age was one of the criticism of authority. -The psychologists, moralists, deists, and sociologists were -revolutionists――all striking directly or indirectly at absolute -political sovereignty, against the theoretical dogmatism and the -ceremonious morality in which the Renaissance was complacent. The -revolution began in the realm of the intellect and spread to political -society. It was natural that the beginnings should be made in the -apparently harmless theoretical examination of the grounds of knowledge -and the principles of morality; but the outcome was a general sweep -of historical criticism, in which authority and science, the church, -the state, and education came under censure. The spirit of man was -impatient. Man became indifferent to “learning.” In contrast with -the Renaissance, this was a time when books were little read, proper -names infrequently appeared in writings, authorities were little cited. -Let man study himself if he would learn about history and understand -the world. Man stands above the scholar, the Christian, the German. -He is independent of tradition, and should substitute the useful for -the historical. Cosmopolitanism takes the place of patriotism. The -Enlightenment is practical and yet imaginative. Its criticism aims to -strip man of all his artificialities and to find his natural state. Its -emphasis is negative and destructive. - -The revolt of the Enlightenment against the past appeared in remarkable -changes in the political map of Europe. Mediæval Europe was breaking -to pieces. The Renaissance had been a period of social absolutism in -which the despotic powers of Macchiavelli and Richelieu were typical -of its political life. In this period new-comers forced their way -into politics and the Enlightenment was marked by the rise of Russia, -Prussia, and the American colonies. France and Austria, representing -the past, were arrayed against England and Prussia, representing the -future of Europe. The conflict between them was that of the old idea -of military despotism, non-commerce, and non-toleration against the new -spirit of individual freedom. From the Peace of Westphalia (1648) to -the Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) occurred many conflicts which presaged -the breaking down of the old boundaries. The old régime received its -death-blow at the hands of Frederick the Great in the Seven Years’ War; -and a half-century later (1806) the Holy Roman Empire came to an end. - -In all countries there were vigorous political movements in support of -the rights of the individual. In England the House of Commons began to -rise to power and the colonies in America to assert their independence. -In France the Bourbon family was fast losing its grip, to be completely -overthrown in the French Revolution (1789). The current was entirely -in the same direction in Germany. This was the time of Adam Smith and -the rise of economic theories. It is a matter of no little significance -that this period from the point of view of philosophy begins with -Locke’s psychological _Essay_ and ends with Kant’s _Critique_; and from -the point of view of politics it begins with the Revolution of 1688 -in England, and ends with a revolution in France and another in the -American colonies. - -=A Comparison of the Enlightenment in England, France, and Germany.= -The individualism of the Enlightenment expressed itself as a -rationalism in Germany, as a sensationalism and deism in France, and as -a deism and an empiricism in England. Nevertheless all its phases may -be found in each one of these countries. The outcome of the movement -in the three countries is, however, very different. In England the -Enlightenment passed into a philosophical reaction in the so-called -Scottish School; in France, it resulted in a political revolution; in -Germany, it merged with a great literary movement and resulted in a -creative idealism. - -=The Many Groups of Philosophers of the Enlightenment.= A comparison of -the lists of philosophers of this with those of other periods reveals -an extraordinary number of names. The Renaissance, for example, shows -about half as many names of consequence, although it is about twice -as long. The Enlightenment teems with philosophers, for its secular -life was permeated with the reflective spirit. The philosophers are -also often notable men, whose names are familiar to the modern reader. -Nevertheless the number of constructive philosophers was exceedingly -few. Only Locke, Berkeley, and Hume can be found whose importance -equals that of Bacon, Hobbes, Galileo, Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibnitz. -In personal talents and importance to their age the others seem to go -in groups or to be part of the secular spirit. On the whole the history -of the Enlightenment is that of social movements, and the philosophers -seem to be the exponents of such movements. - -Some of these important groups are as follows:―― - -In England. - -1. _Associationalist Psychologists_: Peter Brown (d. 1735), Hartley -(1704–1757), Search (1705–1774), Priestley (1733–1804), Tooke -(1736–1812), Erasmus Darwin (1731–1802), Thomas Brown (1778–1820). - -2. _Moral Philosophers_: Shaftesbury (1671–1713); morality based on -intellect, Samuel Clarke (1675–1729); Wollaston (1659–1724); morality -based on feeling, Hutcheson (1694–1747); Home (1696–1782); Burke -(1730–1797); Ferguson (1724–1816); Adam Smith (1723–1790); morality -based on authority, Butler (1692–1752); Paley (1743–1805); ethics -based on associational psychology, Bentham (1748–1832); in an isolated -ethical position, Mandeville (1670–1733); the Platonist, Price -(1723–1791). - -3. _The Deists_: Toland (1670–1722), Collins (1676–1729), Tindal -(1656–1733), Chubb (1679–1747), Morgan (d. 1743), Bolingbroke -(1678–1751). - -4. _The Scottish School of Philosophy_: Thomas Reid (1710–1796), Oswald -(d. 1793), Beattie (d. 1805), Dugald Stewart (1753–1828). - -In France. - -1. _Skeptics_: Bayle (1647–1706), Voltaire (1694–1778), Maupertuis -(1698–1759), d’Alembert (1717–1783), Buffon (1707–1788), Robinet -(1735–1820). - -2. _The Sensualists_: La Mettrie (1709–1751), Bonnet (1720–1793), -Condillac (1715–1780), Cabanis (1757–1808). - -3. _The Encyclopædists_: Diderot (1713–1784), Voltaire, d’Alembert, -Rousseau (1712–1778), Turgot, Jaucourt, Duclos, Grimm (1723–1807), -Holbach (1723–1789), Helvetius (1715–1771). - -4. _The Political Economists and Constitutionalists_: Montesquieu -(1689–1755), Quesnay, Turgot, Morelly, Mably. - -5. _The Sentimentalist_: Rousseau (1712–1778), the most notable figure -of France during the Enlightenment. - -6. _Philosophical Revolutionists_: St. Lambert (1716–1803), Volney -(1757–1820), Condorcet (1743–1794), Garat (1749–1833). - -In Germany. - -1. _Thomasius_ (1655–1728), the first of the Enlightenment. - -2. _The Wolffians_: Wolff (1679–1754), Bilfinger, Knutzen (d. 1751), -Gottsched (1700–1766), Baumgarten (1714–1762). - -3. _The Geometrical Method and its Opponents_: Hansch, Ploucquet, -Crousaz, Rüdiger (1671–1731), Crusius (1712–1775), Budde, Brucker, -Tiedemann, Lossius, Platner. - -4. _The Psychologists and Related Philosophers_: Kruger, Hentsch, Weiss, -Irwing, Moritz (1757–1793), Basedow (1723–1790), Pestalozzi, and Sulzer. - -5. _The Independent Philosophers_: Lambert (1728–1777), Tetens -(1736–1805). - -6. _The Deists_: Schmidt, Semler (1725–1791), Reimarus (1699–1768), -Edelmann. - -7. _The Pietists_: Spener (1635–1705), Francke (1663–1727), Arnold, -Dippel. - -8. _The Popular Philosophers_: Mendelssohn (1729–1786), Nicolai -(1733–1811), Basedow, Abbt, Engel, Feder, Meiners, Garve. - -9. _The Writer on Philosophical Religion_: Lessing (1729–1781). - -10. _The Writer on Faith Philosophy_: Herder (1744–1803). - -The philosophers of greatest importance in this period are given below. -To help the reader keep in mind contemporary philosophical influences -other names are given with them in a parallel table. - - Bacon - 1561 - │ Hobbes - │ 1588 - │ │ Descartes - │ │ 1596 - 1626 │ │ - │ │ Spinoza Locke - │ ┼ 1632 1632 - │ │ │ Newton │ - │ │ │ 1642 ┼ - │ │ │ │ Leibnitz │ - │ 1650 │ │ 1646 │ - │ 1677 │ │ │ - 1679 ┼ │ │ Wolff - │ │ │ 1679 Berkeley - │ │ │ │ Voltaire 1685 - │ │ │ │ 1694 │ - │ │ 1704 │ │ │ - │ │ │ │ │ Hume - │ │ │ │ │ 1711 Rousseau - │ 1716 │ │ │ │ 1712 - │ │ │ │ │ │ Lessing - 1727 │ │ │ │ │ 1729 - │ │ 1753 │ │ │ - 1754 │ │ │ │ - │ 1776 │ │ - 1778 1778 │ - 1781 - - Illustration: - MAP SHOWING THE BIRTHPLACES OF SOME OF THE INFLUENTIAL - THINKERS OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT (1690–1781) - - (Note that the names of the philosophers are given in - brackets beneath the names of the towns and cities) - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - JOHN LOCKE - - -=The Enlightenment in Great Britain.= The history of the philosophy of -Great Britain includes the teachings of Locke, Berkeley, Hume, and the -Scottish School. With the exception of the teachings of the reactionary -Scottish School, all the important philosophical teachings appear -in the first half of the eighteenth century. We need to understand, -first, the philosophical position of Locke, who was the father of the -Enlightenment. We shall then see how his doctrine developed in three -different directions: (1) as Deism,――a rational Christianity, (2) as -an associational psychology in ethics, (3) as a theory of knowledge in -the philosophies of Berkeley and Hume. - -Our discussion of the philosophy of Bacon and Hobbes has been followed -by that of Rationalism. It would, however, be a mistake for the reader -to infer, as we are about to take up the study of Locke, that a long -period of time intervened between Hobbes and Locke. A chronological -comparison of their lives shows that they were contemporaries for -forty-seven years. Both lived through the reign of Charles I, during -the Commonwealth and the Restoration. Hobbes died eleven years before -Locke published his only philosophical essay. We must remember, too, -that the English empirical philosophers of the Enlightenment were not -insulated from the Rationalists of the Continent. On the contrary, -there was a lively interchange of ideas. Descartes influenced Hobbes -and Hobbes influenced Spinoza. The influence of Descartes upon -Locke was not inconsiderable, and Leibnitz felt the influence of -Locke. Berkeley and Leibnitz arrived at idealistic conclusions from -independent points of view. Bacon alone seems to stand apart both from -his contemporaries and from his immediate followers. - -The English Enlightenment was the natural development of the English -Renaissance. Locke was the successor of Bacon and Hobbes. On the other -hand, the English Enlightenment is similar to what went on in France -and Germany. The first half of the English Enlightenment――from 1690 to -1750――was absorbed in philosophical discussions; during the second half, -the period abandoned philosophy, and was engaged entirely in politics. -The classes that won in the Revolution of 1688 had little trouble in -maintaining their place of power. The peaceful coming of William and -Mary gave well-ordered conditions for intellectual development and for -a powerful literary movement. The Jacobites were crushed, and there -ensued a period of political peace. In the latter half of the century, -however, another set of topics came to the front. After 1750 politics -superseded philosophy; and whereas the keenest English minds had been -employed upon the theoretical “study of mankind” in literature and -philosophy, they now became engaged in practical political questions. -Political parties developed. The Court was arrayed against the families -of the Revolution, the American trouble, and the Wilkite agitations -were looming large. England was sucked into the political maelstrom -that was involving all Europe. Instead of deistic controversies with -the theological orthodoxy, dangerous political questions were appearing. -Instead of Hume’s _Essay_ and Butler’s _Analogy_ we have Burke’s -speeches, Adam Smith’s _Wealth of Nations_, Junius’s _Letters_, and -political pamphlets. In the first half of the period Bolingbroke had -left politics for philosophy; in the second half Priestley left his -laboratory for politics. The great change in English intellectual -interests is shown in Hume himself. In 1752 he turned from philosophy, -because there was so little interest in the subject, to the writing -of his history of England. Theology was paralyzed; deism was no longer -ridiculed; orthodoxy slumbered in its victory. The only philosophic -tones came from France, where Voltaire, the Encyclopædists, and -Rousseau were carrying out a movement that had its origin in England; -and, on the other hand, from Scotland and its reactionary school. But -the political movement always remained political in England, because -its institutions were not inflexible and because the English people are -by nature constitutional. In England there has never been a revolution, -in the true sense, but England’s progress has always been controlled by -tradition. Even the revolution in the English colonies in America was -caused by an abridgment of constitutional rights, and not by political -theory, although the formal Declaration of Independence was framed -under the influence of French philosophers. - -=John Locke, Life and Writings= (1632–1704).[37] The life of Locke -falls into four periods. - -1. _Student Life_ (1632–1666). Locke passed his first fourteen years -at home, which were the troublesome years of the Civil War. The next -six years were spent at the Westminster School in London. The last -fourteen years of this period were spent, first as student and then -as lecturer in Oxford. He took his Oxford degrees in 1660, the year -of the Restoration and the year in which the British Royal Society was -founded at Oxford. His dislike for the classics, which was begun at the -Westminster School, was confirmed by his Oxford studies. Consequently, -during the years of his perfunctory lecturing at Oxford (1660–1666), -his main interest was in physics. He was engaged in chemical, -meteorological, and especially medical observations. He was also -engaged in an amateur medical practice, in partnership with an old -physician. - -The first turning point in his life came in 1666, when he was called -to attend the first Lord Shaftesbury, who had fallen ill at Oxford. -This accidental meeting was the beginning of a lasting friendship with -the Shaftesbury family, sustained by their common love for political, -religious, and intellectual liberty. The first Lord Shaftesbury was -the most notable statesman in the reign of Charles II; the third Lord -Shaftesbury was the greatest of English ethical scholars. Locke was the -trusted friend and beneficiary of the first Lord Shaftesbury, the tutor -of the second, and influenced, more than any one else, the ethical -productions of the third. Locke wrote some notes in this period on -the Roman Commonwealth, an essay on toleration, and made records of -physical observations. - -2. _As Politician_ (1666–1683). During these seventeen years Locke’s -outward fortunes were intimately connected with the political career -of Shaftesbury. He held public office. He was made a member of the -Royal Society in 1668. The winter of 1670–1671 was important for -his intellectual fortunes and marks another turning point in his -life. It was then that he started the inquiry that led to his famous -_Essay_.[38] The _Essay_ was in the process of development during the -next nineteen years. He passed four years in retirement and in study in -France (1675–1679). He also at this time first conceived his _Essays on -Government_. Shaftesbury fled to Holland in November, 1682, and Locke a -few months later followed him. - -3. _As Philosophical Author_ (1683–1691). The year 1689 divides this -period into two important parts. The first part (1683–1689) is not -only the period of his exile in Holland, but it is the time in which -he is composing and completing his three most important literary -works,――_Essay on the Human Understanding_, the two _Treatises on -Government_, the three _Epistles on Tolerance_. During the second -part (1689–1691) he published these, which was the time immediately -following his return to England. Newton’s _Principia_ was published -in 1687, and Locke’s _Essay_ in 1690――the one the foundation of modern -physical science, the other the beginning of modern psychology. The -appearance of these two works together with the Revolution in 1688 -makes this point of time an important one in the history of the world. - -4. _As Controversialist_ (1691–1704). Locke then began to write upon -almost every conceivable subject,――the coining of silver money, the -raising of the value of money, the culture of olives, etc. He was also -very busy in defending his philosophy against attacks. For him, until -1700 the period was one of controversy. At that time he retired from -all activity, and after four years of failing health died in 1704. His -period of production was confined to the eleven years between 1689 and -1700. - -=The Sources of Locke’s Thought.= 1. _His Puritan Ancestry._ The -ancestry of Locke is little known, and not much that appears in his -personality can be explained by it. Both his father and mother were -Puritans, and he seems to have inherited the severe piety, prudent, -self-reliant industry, and love of liberty, that were common in English -Puritan families of the middle class in the seventeenth century. During -the first fourteen years he was schooled by his parents. - -2. _His Training in Tolerance._ If Locke inherited in the least -degree any temper of intolerance from his Puritan ancestry it entirely -disappeared with his experiences before and during his life at the -University of Oxford. In 1646, at the Westminster School, his mind -revolted at the cruel intolerance on both sides in the events just -succeeding the Civil War. He also rebelled at the stern scholastic -training which he received. These negative influences were supplemented -by positive incentives to freedom and toleration during his university -life. John Owen was the liberal Vice-Chancellor of Oxford at that time, -and the university granted freedom of thought to all Protestants. Locke -felt Owen’s influence throughout his whole life. The fact that Locke’s -intimate friend at Oxford was Professor Pococke, the most outspoken -Royalist in the university, shows that whatever Puritanism there -was in Locke’s nature had been ameliorated. Tolerance and liberty of -opinion became now the key-note in the life of John Locke. “A gentle -disposition, great love for his friends, an honest seeking after truth, -and a firm faith in the importance of personal and political freedom -are the traits most remarkable in Locke as we know him from his books -and letters.” His toleration was not of the same sort as that of -his contemporary Leibnitz. Leibnitz sought to reconcile discordant -elements by combining them into a new dogmatic theory; Locke neglected -disagreements, sought no perfect harmony, but pointed out a _via media_ -that any individual might take. Leibnitz set forth a metaphysical -system; Locke gave a practical method. He had great directness, and was -a man of honesty of thought. Not being a partisan he had no side to -defend; and he was not a partisan because philosophy was not his trade. -Philosophy was to Locke the accomplishment of a gentleman who was -interested in the puzzles of life. His diction is for ordinary people; -it is simple and expressed in short Anglo-Saxon words. He shows no -logic of thought; and while any sentence is admirable, the paragraph -and the page are dull. His _Essay_ is a chaos of plain truths, only -here and there illuminated by imagination. He shows no poetic power, -and the world in which he lived never fired his imagination. He studied -the human mind as he would read the thermometer. To our fathers his -_Essay_ was a philosophical Bible. To us the _Essay_ stands, not like -a completely planned building, but like an enlarged cottage, very -habitable, but making no single impression. - -3. _The Scientific Influence._ As a fellow-countryman of Ockam and -the two Bacons, Locke shows the same anti-mystical and positivist -tendencies. He was a thorough Englishman in taste and temperament. When -the “new philosophy” was finding its way into the Oxford circle, he -was one of the first to welcome it. It came to the University through -books; the lecturers were still true to Aristotle. Descartes, Hobbes, -and Bacon were widely read, as was also Gassendi’s exposition of -Epicurus. Locke himself writes concerning the influence of Descartes -upon him. He gave up all thought of becoming a clergyman; and his -personal friendship for Bayle, a famous chemist, and for Sydenham, a no -less famous physician, interested him in the empirical method as they -applied it to chemistry and therapeutics. He owed his philosophical -awakening to Descartes and the Port Royal logic. The lucidity of -Descartes came to him as an inspiration of intellectual liberty; -although he afterwards used the principles that Descartes had taught -him to controvert his teacher’s doctrine. - -During the first period of Locke’s life (1632–1666) he was nothing more -than a student of medicine and a meteorological observer. He was the -retired scholar who led so placid a life that it portended nothing -noteworthy. He was a creditable scholar and teacher, but his life was -negative in character. He had passed through stirring times, and they -did not stir him. - -4. _The Political Influence._ Locke’s interest in politics began when -he was thirty-four years old――when he met Lord Ashley at Oxford. For -fifteen years he shared the home and fortune of this most remarkable -man of affairs in the reign of Charles II. This Lord Ashley (Earl of -Shaftesbury) fled to Holland in 1682, and died there the next year. -After the death of his patron Locke left England for exile in Holland -until 1689, when he returned to England with William and Mary. In -Holland he found a brilliant company, exiled from all countries; and -he formed an intimate friendship with Limborch, the leader of liberal -theology in Holland. Some of the time he lived with a Quaker. Locke’s -friendship with Shaftesbury and his residence in Holland confirmed him -in his belief in political liberty. So when William entered England and -needed literary justification for the Revolution, he got it in Locke’s -two _Treatises on Government_. Locke thus became the philosophical -defender and intellectual representative of the Revolution that now -after fifty years had reached its culmination. - -=Summary.= On the whole, the inherited Puritanism of Locke was -easily modified not only by his own moderate disposition, but also -by his scientific interests and by his large political experiences. -He naturally grew to be the apostle of the _via media_ between -traditionalism and empiricism. He published practically nothing before -he was sixty years old. After his return from exile his principal -works appeared in swift succession. Two accidents formed turning-points -in his life. His accidental meeting with Shaftesbury in 1666 turned -him to politics; and secondly, at an informal meeting of friends in -the winter of 1670–1671 the question about the nature of sensations was -accidentally raised, out of which grew his great _Essay_. His life was -primarily one of affairs and of large acquaintance with men and things. -To him life was the first thing, his interest in politics came second, -and his philosophy third. That his ideas should have been the basis of -extreme philosophical and political beliefs on the Continent is natural -enough when one remembers the perils of misinterpretation to the man -who preaches the doctrine of the _via media_. - -=The Purpose of Locke.= In the historical perspective of two -centuries we to-day see Locke in his _Essay on the Human Understanding_ -delivering the inaugural address of the eighteenth century. He is -making the first formal declaration of the intellectual rights of the -individual in a lengthy, dry, and erudite psychological dissertation. -Of course he never knew the historical importance of his own work. -It grew out of the need of the hour. He would have been astonished to -find himself the spokesman of the century of French Encyclopædists, -materialists, and revolutionists, of English deists, of German -Illuminati, of Hume, and of Voltaire. He had in mind to answer the -restrictions of the high churchman on the one hand, and the arrogant -claims of the atheists on the other, as to the power of the human -intellect. He states that his design is to “inquire into the original -certainty and extent of human knowledge.” In this declaration Locke -foreshadows Kant, but he falls short of the insight of Kant. For Locke -speaks for the spirit of the eighteenth and not the nineteenth century, -and (1) he must keep within the range of concrete facts; (2) he must -state only what can be stated clearly; and (3) he must be practical. -It was, however, in its larger meaning a declaration of human freedom. -Locke shows what limitations the human intellect has, what it can and -what it cannot know. When the Enlightenment got momentum, it forgot the -limitations to knowledge that the sober Locke had set down, and read in -his words only a declaration of license. The _Essay_ differs from any -previous modern philosophical writing. Man and not the universe is the -subject. For the first time we find an examination of the laws of mind, -and not of the laws of the universe. - -But it is the _via media_ for which Locke stands, and not the -lawless excesses of the eighteenth century. The human reason is not -all-knowing――cannot solve all problems, is not endowed with divine -ideas; on the other hand, the human reason is not merely a string of -sensations. The human reason is just this: it is _human_. It stands -midway between divine intuition and animal sensation. Man is free, but -free under his own limitations. “If by this inquiry it may be of use to -prevail with the busy mind of man to be more cautious in meddling with -things beyond its comprehension――we should then not be so forward, out -of affection for universal knowledge, to perplex ourselves and others -with disputes about things, to which our understandings are not suited -and of which we have not any notions at all.” Human freedom stands -between the absolute freedom of God and the absolute necessity of -the animal. Human freedom lies within the limits and bounds of human -ideas――the _via media_; and analysis of those ideas will show what -those limits and bounds are. There can be no knowledge without ideas. -Some ideas may be erroneous and out of all relation to reality. -On the other hand, there may be ideas to which no experiences fit. -Intellectual freedom consists in having not isolated ideas, but ideas -in their relations, that is, in the form of judgments. Locke was -moved in making his analysis of ideas by a general moral purpose to -correct the faults and fallacies in mankind and in himself. “Man’s -faculties were given him to procure the happiness which this world -is capable of,” says Locke, and it might have been Bacon who had said -it. The search for the _via media_ is justified by its practical and -utilitarian ends. The _via media_ is the way of freedom. - -=Two Sides of Locke’s Philosophy.= The search for the _via media_ is -an attempt to find “the limits and extent of human knowledge.” This -involved Locke in a discrimination as to what should be accepted and -what rejected of the past. It gives his philosophy a positive and a -negative aspect. In brief, on its negative side he makes a show of -rejecting the entire past by rejecting all innate ideas, but really he -inconsistently accepted from the past its conception of substance and -of individuality. On its positive side he builds up from experience a -theory of knowledge which he divides into intuitive, demonstrative, and -probable. That is to say, while Locke affirms that all our knowledge -must be derived from experience, it never occurs to him to doubt the -traditional Cartesian theory of the existence of God, man, and matter. - -(a) =The Negative Side――Locke and Scholasticism.= Locke issued an -avowed defiance to scholasticism in the introduction of his _Essay_. -Of the four books into which the _Essay_ is divided, the first was -composed last and added as an introductory declaration of independence. -If it had been the only part ever written, the anarchism of the -eighteenth century would have been right in finding its justification -in the _Essay_. To a modern mind this first book looks harmless enough, -but in Locke’s time it had a deep sociological and political meaning. -It expresses his practical moral defiance of traditional mediævalism. -“There exist no innate ideas,” says Locke. Innate ideas mean to him -the tyranny of tradition――unexamined and unsubstantiated beliefs, -conceptions unverified by fact. They stand for church dogma imposed -upon the unthinking masses, the absolutism of monarchy and the divine -right of kings, the inherited superstitions about nature. Spinoza -had deduced his entire philosophy from the innate idea of substance; -Descartes had found at least three innate ideas; Leibnitz believed -all ideas innate. Locke pleads for the personal right to examine all -ideas. Locke’s critics have claimed that no philosopher ever maintained -the existence of innate ideas in the sense in which Locke attacked -them. Locke was aiming at something more vulnerable than innate ideas -themselves――he was attacking the mediæval habit of the individual who -takes a thing as true because the thing has the weight of traditional -authority. - -(b) =The Positive Side――The New Psychology and Epistemology.= If -inherited ideas have no weight for Locke, he was bound to show the -kind of ideas upon which we can rely. The mind enters upon life with -no stock of ideas in trade; how do they arise? The logical outcome of -Locke’s disclaimer of scholastic psychology obliged him to construct -a new psychology and theory of knowledge. He must offer a psychology -as a constructive programme for the individualism of the Enlightenment. -In his second book Locke states the positive side of his doctrine -by saying that the mind is like a white paper without any original -markings; that it gets its markings from the impressions made upon it. -Thus to deny innate ideas and to affirm that all ideas are empirically -aroused, are the negative and positive sides of the same doctrine -of individualism. They are two ways of saying that the mind of the -individual is free to judge for itself of the truth or falseness of -its experiences. - -In his denial of the existence of innate ideas, in his use of the -formula that “nothing is in the intellect that has not been first in -the sense,” or in his employment of the figure of the “white piece -of paper,” Locke does not intend to state anything further than that -the mind is free. He merely means that the individual starts without -trammels and prejudices. He does not mean that the mind is completely -passive and at the mercy of its environment, as his French followers -interpreted him. Locke is a sensationalist, but he does not belong to -that class who believe that our mental states are merely translated -sensations, and that the mind itself is merely passive. He believes -that the mind does not create its ideas, but that they are presented -to it. The mind has original powers upon which it can reflect. The mind -can operate with its ideas and make them into compounds. Thus one must -read Locke’s _Essay_ to the end to get his double point of view. In the -second and third books he frequently discusses the contents of the mind -as if the mind were passive, in the manner of modern psychologists. In -the fourth book he develops an epistemology on the assumption that the -mind is active and free. - -=Locke’s Psychology.= The second and third books of the _Essay_ are -a discussion of the empirical sources of our ideas. One notes the -Cartesian dualism of mind and matter in the background. All ideas -have their source either externally in the impressions upon the bodily -senses, or internally in the operations of the mind itself. The sources -of ideas are either sensations or reflections, or, as Locke calls -them, “outer and inner perceptions.” Locke also calls them “simple -ideas,” being the units out of which the complex ideas are constructed. -We understand easily enough what Locke means by sensations, but -“reflections” is a word peculiar to him, which has not been taken up by -philosophy. He means by “reflections” a consciousness of the machinery -of the mind. We are, that is to say, conscious of our willing, loving, -remembering, etc. As to the order of their appearance in the mind, -the sensations are prior to the reflections and are the occasion -for the appearance of the reflections. The reflections are not the -process of transmitting the sensations, but they are the later and -mechanical transmutation of the sensations. It is important to note -that throughout Locke’s psychological analysis, he regards the mind as -passive, even with respect to the ideas of reflection. The reflections, -as faculties of the mind, are dependent on the sensations, and both -sensations and reflections make impressions upon a passive mind. - -These “simple” ideas come into the crucible of the mind and form -“complex” ideas of various sorts. There are three general classes of -these complex ideas: substances, modes, and relations. The construction -of “complex ideas” out of “simple ideas” and the objects to which the -complex ideas refer receive a great variety of illustration at Locke’s -hands, but the details of his lengthy discussion need not detain us. -He is very painstaking; he shows hard common sense; but he is deficient -in logical classification and he often betrays much indecision. His -_Essay_ is of encyclopædic character in its derivation of all common -notions from “simple ideas.” The laws of association form the chemistry -by which he welds the “simple ideas” together. - -Thus far Locke is empirical and consistent. However, the dualistic -background of the thought of his age makes him deviate from his -avowed empiricism. Besides the clear and simple ideas of sensation and -reflection Locke introduces the idea of the Self. What is the idea of -Self? It is not a sensation nor a reflection. It is not a complex idea, -derived from sensations and reflections. “It is an internal, infallible -perception that we are.” It is an accompaniment of the processes of -thought. It stands beside the ideas, which are empirically derived, -as an unexplained remainder. The result of Locke’s psychological -analysis is therefore that the inner world of the mind consists of the -combination of the simple ideas of sensation and reflection plus the -unexplained idea of the Self. - -=Locke’s Theory of Knowledge.= Although Locke says that the purpose -of his _Essay_ is to show the limits and extent of human knowledge, he -does not reach this until the last book. The first three books form a -long introduction to the fourth book and his real theme. Here for the -first time he treats the mind as active; and here for the first time in -the history of thought the attempt is made to show what questions man -can answer with certainty, what with probability, and what are beyond -man’s knowledge. - -All the difficulties in the assumptions of the Enlightenment come out -in Locke’s treatment of his main theme. Locke defines knowledge as the -“perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas,” and yet he -says that knowledge is real only as ideas agree with things. That is -to say, Locke had assumed (in Book II of the _Essay_) the existence of -the material substance of things of the outer world, just as he assumed -the existence of the spiritual Self-substance of the inner world. What -is the nature of the outer material substance? Locke hesitates, and -the best he can answer is, “It is the unknown support and cause of -the union of several distinct, simple ideas.” Substance, to Locke, -is a word for something unknown. But does the mind know nothing about -substance? What information do our ideas convey to us of substance? We -have this knowledge: we know the _primary_ or constant, unchangeable -qualities of substances, and the _secondary_ or variable qualities -of substances. The _primary_ qualities of bodies are the same as -their effects in us, such as the extension of bodies, their solidity, -movement and rest, duration and position in time. The _secondary_ -“are nothing in the objects themselves but powers to produce various -sensations in us by their primary qualities.” Secondary qualities -are sounds, colors, etc. In this confused statement it would seem -that substance stands as merely the nominal support of the _primary_ -qualities, and the _primary_ qualities are the cause of the _secondary_ -qualities. - -Thus the individual stands forth free in the development of his -ideas, but he is an individual circumscribed by his dualistic -world. He belongs to the world of an unexplained spiritual substance -on the one hand, and he is surrounded by a world of an unknown -material substance on the other. There are three kinds of knowledge: -intuitive, demonstrative, and probable. Locke says that the individual -is intuitively certain of his own ideas. The individual has also -demonstrative knowledge――he can reason logically and mathematically. -But Locke’s real problem does not lie with intuitive and demonstrative -knowledge. The question that concerned him was rather, What is the -character of our knowledge of the external world? The individual in -the Enlightenment lived in a spiritual independence of matter, yet -he had a feeling of uncertainty about his hold upon a world of matter -so different from himself. It was a world foreign to his spiritual -essence. With the deepening of the mind within itself and with its -growing independence, the equally independent material world grew more -difficult and distant. Locke feels this difficulty. How can man know -this external world? How can the individual, with all his freedom, -bring the external world under his control? - -Besides the certainty of intuitive and demonstrative knowledge, there -is a third kind according to Locke. This is the probable knowledge -of the nature world. We are certain of our sensations, but we are -not certain of what our sensations report. The highest degree which -our knowledge of the external world can attain is probability, or an -inference from many sources. Such knowledge is mere opinion, which -supplements certain knowledge and operates in the large field of our -daily existence. The spiritual individual stands in a kind of twilight -region with the dull wall of the material world of probable existence -looming up before him, the outlines of which he can barely discern. -On either side of this twilight existence lies the broad daylight of -intuitive and demonstrative knowledge, and around it all the absolute -darkness of ignorance. Our knowledge is much less than our ignorance -because our knowledge is limited to our ideas and their combinations. - -=Locke’s Practical Philosophy.= Locke pursued the _via media_ in his -discussion of the practical problems that were at that time of burning -importance in English society. He always kept in mind the spiritual -man who is circumscribed by his own limitations. Morally, religiously, -and politically the individual has to conform to the conditions in -which he lives. But morality, religion, and government cannot get their -authority from ideas inborn in the mind. All are the outgrowths of -experience. The moral law, for example, is a law of nature, although at -the same time it is a law of God. It arises from experience, and at the -same time it has its root in God. To obey it is to be happy, to disobey -it is to be unhappy. The revelation of religion, too, may transcend -experience, but it must not contradict experience. In both religion and -morality the individual must be the final judge, for he is the arbiter -of his own happiness. Individual happiness is of more value than all -else. Religious toleration is therefore one of the first principles -of government, and between the church and the state there should be -no conflict. - -Locke’s political philosophy is along the same _via media_. In his -_Treatises on Government_ he seeks to make good the title of King -William to the British throne. He justifies the right of the individual -to revolt under certain conditions. Political government is not a -sacred innate idea, but has arisen out of experience as conducive -to the happiness of man. The individuals and the government make a -contract to serve each other. When either violates the contract, the -State is at an end. To the advocates of the divine rights of kings, -like Filmer, political law antedated “nature”; to Hobbes, law came -after “nature”; to Locke, law is “nature.” To Filmer “nature” was a -golden age; to Hobbes it was a shocking state to be got rid of; to -Locke “nature” is harmony. Thus according to Locke the individual has -through his experiences constructed his morality, his religion, and his -government because they are conducive to his happiness, and at the same -time they have their ground in the “nature” of things. The individual -stands free among them, the central figure in the world. - -=The Influence of Locke.= The philosophy of Locke became the -fountain-head of the many divergent schools of thought of the -Enlightenment. His _Essay_ did not contain anything fundamentally new, -and its presentation has little originality; but it voiced the thought -of the eighteenth century so easily, and with such skillful avoidance -of pitfalls, that it made Locke the most widely read and the most -influential philosopher of his time. Four separate movements had -their source in him: (1) From his theory of knowledge, in which the -emphasis is laid upon the mind as active, came the empirical idealism -of Berkeley and Hume; (2) from his psychological analysis in the -second and third books of the _Essay_, in which the mind is regarded -as passive, came the sensationalism of the French; (3) from his theory -of religion came Deism; (4) from his associationalistic ethics came -the utilitarian ethical theories of the English moralists. The most -constructive followers of Locke were Berkeley and Hume. The others -may be called the lesser Lockian schools; for although they may -have exercised a much greater influence upon their own time, they -were nevertheless only partial interpreters of Locke. We shall deal -briefly with Deism and Ethics in England, next consider at length the -philosophies of Berkeley and Hume, and then present in a summary but -articulate way the development of the Enlightenment in France and -Germany. - -=The English Deists.= We have seen how Rationalism, especially -in the case of Descartes, tried at the beginning to reconstruct -theology without breaking with established dogma. Gradually, however, -rationalism and revealed religion showed signs of divorce. Some of -the rationalists came to take the stand that if reason can understand -the nature of God, revelation is either incredible or superfluous. -The revealed religions differ. The god of the mediæval people is not -the same as the god of the heathen nor as the Jehovah of the Jews. -There are many religions and many sects in each religion. There must -be to them all a common basis, which is the true religion. This was -the creed of Deism or Natural Religion. Positive religions are only -the corruptions of natural religion, or the religion of reason. Deism -sought to separate religion from special revelations, which were looked -upon as the irrational elements of religion. Bacon and Descartes had -freed natural science from church dogma; Hobbes had freed psychology -from the same dogma; Grotius had freed the conception of law from dogma. -The Deists would free religion from dogma. - -Deism was founded on three principles; (1) the origin and truth of -religion may be scientifically investigated; (2) the origin of religion -is the conscience; (3) positive religions are degenerate forms of -natural religion. The tendency of the Enlightenment was deistical, -and the movement was powerful in England, France, and Germany. Deism -was quite consistent with the central principle of this period――the -self-sufficiency of the individual. - -In England the first deist was Herbert of Cherbury (1581–1648), with -his “five fundamental propositions of religion.” The body of English -deists, however, got their cue from Locke’s identification of the moral -law with the law of nature; but Locke himself was not a deist. The -literature of deism coincides for the most part with the English moral -philosophy of the period, but usually the group of English deists is -supposed to include only Toland, Chubb, Tindal, Collins, Morgan, and -Bolingbroke. These men lived in the first half of the Enlightenment. -They were much despised by the scholars of the time as being mere -dabblers in letters. “They were but a ragged regiment whose whole -ammunition of learning was a trifle when compared with the abundant -stores of a single light of orthodoxy; whilst in speculative ability -they were children by the side of their antagonists.”[39] - -The English deists passed from view at the end of the first half -of the eighteenth century, crushed by the weight of the attack upon -them. The more powerful orthodoxy, with its greater talent, was itself -rationalistic, and could beat them on their own ground. The churchmen -showed that the objections against the God of revelation would be -equally effective against the deistic God of nature. The classic -argument along this line against the deists is Bishop Butler’s _Analogy -of Religion_. The battle was unequal, and the character of the books -published during the controversy reveals the inequality of the contest. -The deistic publications were small and shabby octavos, and were -published anonymously. The orthodox publications were solid octavos -and quartos in handsome bindings, with the credentials of powerful -signatures. Even if the orthodoxy had not employed the arm of the -law against the deists, the deists would have been broken by the -intellectual force against them. - -=The English Moralists.= Just as the motive of the deists was to -free religion from the authority of theology, so the motive of the -celebrated group of English moralists of the Enlightenment was to -find a basis for morality outside of church dogma. Many of the English -moralists were also deists in belief. Their number is legion, as the -list given below will show. The greatest among them was Shaftesbury. - -The school began with Hobbes and received momentum from the -associational psychology of Locke. All the members of this group sought -to find an ultimate basis for morality――some seeking it with Locke in -experience, others in innate ideas. Yet the starting-point with each of -these moralists seems to be Hobbes and his selfish ethics, for nearly -all ethical scholars have his ethics in mind, either to attack or to -defend. For many years Hobbes was regarded by ethical scholars either -as an evil spirit or as an inspired genius. In any case, his influence -was felt in ethical discussion for a long time. - - Chronological Table of the English Moralists. - - 1500 1600 1700 1800 - Hobbes 88 .. 79 .. .. .. .. .. .. - Cudworth .. 17 88 .. .. .. .. .. .. - Locke .. 32 .. 04 .. .. .. .. .. - Cumberland .. .. 32 .. 18 .. .. .. .. - Wollaston .. .. 59 24 .. .. .. .. .. - Mandeville .. .. 70 .. 33 .. .. .. .. - Shaftesbury .. .. 71 13 .. .. .. .. .. - Clarke .. .. 75 .. 29 .. .. .. .. - Berkeley .. .. 85 .. .. 53 .. .. .. - Pope .. .. 88 .. 44 .. .. .. .. - Butler .. .. 92 .. .. 52 .. .. .. - Hutcheson .. .. 94 .. 47 .. .. .. .. - Edwards .. .. .. 03 .. 58 .. .. .. - Hartley .. .. .. 05 .. 57 .. .. .. - Tucker .. .. .. 05 .. .. 74 .. .. - Reid .. .. .. 10 .. .. 96 .. .. - Hume .. .. .. 11 .. .. 76 .. .. - Smith .. .. .. 23 .. .. 90 .. .. - Price .. .. .. 23 .. .. 91 .. .. - Paley .. .. .. .. 43 .. .. 05 .. - Bentham .. .. .. .. 47 .. .. 32 .. - Stewart .. .. .. .. .. 53 .. 28 .. - Whewell .. .. .. .. .. .. 95 .. 66 - Mill .. .. .. .. .. .. .. 06 73 - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - BERKELEY AND HUME - - -=The Life and Writings of George Berkeley= (1685–1753). In Bishop -Berkeley we have the finest type of Irish mind. In his brilliant -mental powers and idealistic theory he reminds us of that wonderful -Irish scholar of the Middle Ages, John Scotus Erigena. Berkeley was -acutely critical, and yet he possessed a childlike religious faith. He -combined an insatiable longing for knowledge with an ardent missionary -zeal. “Berkeley was a born child of Plato, a lineal descendant of -a race whose origin is afar off and is divine.”[40] He was one of -those exceptional minds that begin to bring forth their intellectual -offspring when they are young. Berkeley began to publish at the age -of twenty-four, Hume at twenty-eight, Descartes at forty-one, Locke -at fifty-eight. - -We shall divide the life of Berkeley into three periods. - -1. _His Early Training_ (1685–1707). Nothing is known of Berkeley’s -early years, except that he was born in Kilkenny, Ireland. He was -educated at the Eton of Ireland, the Kilkenny school, where Swift had -been a pupil; and it is known that one of Berkeley’s schoolmates was -Thomas Prior. Berkeley entered Trinity College, Dublin, at fifteen, and -graduated at nineteen. Scholasticism was still influential at Trinity, -but new sciences, such as botany, chemistry, and anatomy, had been -added to the curriculum. There, too, the young Berkeley found that -Locke’s _Essay_ was much discussed, and that Newton, Boyle, Malebranche, -Descartes, and Leibnitz were widely read. From this early date Berkeley -began to keep a book of his own philosophical reflections, calling -it his _Commonplace Book_. From it and from his philosophy it would -appear that Locke and Malebranche were the most powerful philosophical -influences upon him. - -2. _As Author_ (1707–1721). - -Berkeley remained at Dublin as tutor and fellow five years after -his graduation. In 1709 he was ordained deacon in the English church. -He published two mathematical tracts in 1707, his _Theory of Vision_ -in 1709, his _Principles of Human Knowledge_ in 1710. The _Theory -of Vision_ and the _Principles of Human Knowledge_ were practically -a statement of his philosophy. They have been compared thus: the -_Theory of Vision_ teaches that “all that we see is our sensation”; the -_Principles of Human Knowledge_ teaches that “all that exists is our -knowledge.” Berkeley then went to London, where he was admitted to the -court of Queen Anne and also to the circle that included Steele, Swift, -Addison, and Pope. Berkeley showed himself humble, wise, considerate, -and unselfish, and although he was shocked at the court life, he on -his side charmed every one whom he met. He wanted to make his idealism -better understood, and so he published it in the form of a dialogue -between a realist and an idealist. This publication was called _Three -Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous_ (1713). He then made two -journeys to the Continent――1713–1714 and 1716–1720――and spent much -of the time in Italy, where he absorbed its literature. The South Sea -swindle turned him to economics, and in 1721 he published an _Essay -toward Preventing the Ruin of Great Britain_. - -3. _As Priest and Missionary_ (1721–1753). - -Berkeley was appointed Dean of Derry in 1721 at a salary of £1100. -Although he threw himself into his work with his accustomed zeal, there -had already appeared in his mind the conception of an ideal society, -where church and state would be united. He was disgusted with the -worn-out European society, and wanted to remove the youth to a colony -where there would be no temptations. He raised a large sum of money for -this purpose, and obtained the promise of a grant from the government -of £20,000, gave up his deanery, and sailed for America. He intended to -settle in Bermuda and there to found an ideal State, which should also -be a centre for the conversion of the American Indians to Christianity. -The promised grant from the English government did not come, and -Berkeley got no farther than Newport, R. I., where he lived three -years. While at Newport he wrote _Alciphron, the Minute Philosopher_, -and published it in England in 1732. The records of Trinity Church -in Newport show that he preached there many Sundays. He gave several -books to Harvard and Yale Colleges. At Newport he was visited by Samuel -Johnson, an Episcopal missionary, who afterwards became president -of King’s College in New York. Johnson was converted to Berkeley’s -idealism, and through Johnson the doctrine was received by Jonathan -Edwards, his pupil. - -From 1734 to 1752 Berkeley was Bishop of Cloyne. He was devoted -to missionary work among the poor, and many of his people being -afflicted with an epidemic of influenza, he treated them effectively -with tar-water――a remedy he had learned from the Indians. He published -_Siris_, an essay on the philosophical virtues of tar-water, in 1744. -In 1752 he went to Oxford to live, and in 1753 he died. - -=The Influences upon the Thought of Berkeley.= Berkeley’s philosophy -shows little development after his first publications. With the -exception of _Siris_, which contains much Platonic idealism, the later -works of Berkeley are scarcely more than an elaboration of his early -thought in the _Theory of Vision_ and the _Principles of Human Nature_. -We should infer, therefore, that the only philosophical influences -upon Berkeley were the original springs at which he drank as a youth. -Moreover, he always speaks with the dogmatic certainty of one who has -drawn his material from but few sources. Never does he exhibit the -indecision of a man who is embarrassed by many points of view. The two -chief influences upon him were Locke and Malebranche. The influence of -Locke was partly of the nature of a reaction: Berkeley accepted Locke’s -psychological analysis, but reacted from Locke’s “common sense” dualism -as early as the time of his student life at Trinity. Malebranche, with -his theory of “occasional causes,” reinforced his opinion along the -line that his reaction took. But Berkeley’s own incisive genius had a -relatively greater influence in dictating the course of his philosophy -than is usually the case. His mind was precocious, fertile, and -continuously versatile. Furthermore, Berkeley’s simple religious nature -seems to have been an important factor in determining his intellectual -belief. His peculiar idealism could take root only in a mind inspired -by faith. - -=The Purpose of Berkeley.= The life and teaching of Berkeley were -dedicated to the true interests of religion. He may be called the -religious Enlightener. He would not, like the deists, strip religion -bare of dogma, but he would unlimber dogma and rational philosophy so -that they would be of service to religion. _His purpose was to free -scholasticism on the one hand, and rationalism on the other, from -abstractions and obscure terms, and thereby bring about a union of -faith and knowledge._ Berkeley looked upon himself as a crusader who -would retake the Holy Land for the spiritual individual. - -We have remarked that one of the presuppositions of this period of the -Enlightenment is the independence of the individual. The individual -around which Berkeley’s philosophy centres is the spiritual individual, -and is therefore unique even for this period. Such an individual is -superior to his environment because he belongs not to a material world, -but to a community of religious beings who can talk and walk with God. -The English Enlightenment passed from Locke to Berkeley. The inner life -came into complete ascendency and the spiritual individual emerged. -From the Lockian philosophy, with its many contradictory motives, -there appeared the audacious one-sided philosophy of Berkeley, with its -proclamation of the reign of spirituality. It stood in marked contrast -with the development of the Enlightenment in France――a development -of materialism and material atoms. The spectral although stubborn -boundaries of the unknowable material world, which Locke supposed to -shut around the powers of the human intellect, crumbled before the hand -of Berkeley. - -The casual reader of the history of thought is, however, often -disconcerted at the appearance of such a philosophy as Berkeley’s in -this period of empiricism, and especially as the immediate follower -of Locke. The English school is called the empirical school, and -yet Berkeley is also called an idealist. But we must remember that -empiricism and idealism are not antithetical. Empiricism refers to the -source of our knowledge; it means that all our knowledge is primarily -derived from sense-perceptions. These sense-perceptions may be of two -kinds: they may be (1) psychological facts, or (2) material facts. -Berkeley was, like Locke and Hume, an empiricist of the first class; -and yet because he denied the independent existence of material facts, -he was also an idealist. He was an empirical idealist, just as the -French philosophers of the Enlightenment were empirical materialists. -The critic may find that Berkeley is not a consistent empiricist, -to be sure, but neither was Locke. Berkeley started out by affirming -the testimony of experience against scholastic ♦speculation and -abstraction; yet all along he assumed the scholastic conception of -mind. Nevertheless, this assumption of the individual makes Berkeley -a true child of the Enlightenment.[41] - -=Berkeley’s General Relation to Locke and Hume.= The growth of this -English school from Locke to Hume is not difficult to understand or -to remember. It is not so much a page in the history of metaphysics -(the nature of reality) as in epistemology (the theory of knowledge). -Locke asks, What can we know? And he replies to his own question, that -we can know our “ideas.” At the same time he assumes the existence -of a spiritual substance on the one side, and a material substance -on the other. Neither of these is an idea, in the sense that it is an -object of knowledge. The advance of Berkeley from Locke and of Hume -from Berkeley was one of cancellation. Berkeley cancelled the material -substance, because the material substance is not an idea. Hume then -consistently enough asked, Why not for the same reason cancel the -spiritual substance? The spiritual substance is not an idea or object -of knowledge. We have no more right to assume it than the material -substance. The only things we know to exist are our ideas. The -development of the English school may be briefly put as follows:―― - - Locke, Spiritual substance――ideas――material substance. - - Berkeley, Spiritual substance――ideas. - - Hume, ideas. - -Hume is Locke made logically consistent. Berkeley went only halfway. -Hume among these three was the only self-consistent empiricist. On -the assumption that all knowledge is derived from sense-perception -the history of the English empirical school was a history of the -restriction of knowledge. - -=Berkeley’s Points of Agreement with Locke.= Berkeley starts from -Locke’s psychological analysis as the basis of his own theory. The -purely scientific aspect of the contents of mind as classified by Locke -does not call for particular criticism from him. Logical classification -does not seem to concern him very much, and while he accepts Locke’s -analysis, he often calls Locke’s classes by other names. He commits -himself to Locke’s psychological empiricism in the first sentence in -his _Principles_: “It is evident to any one who takes a survey of the -objects of knowledge, that they are either ideas actually imprinted on -the senses; or else such as are perceived by attending to the passions -and operations of the mind; or, lastly, ideas formed by the help -of memory and imagination――either compounding, dividing, or barely -representing those originally perceived in the aforesaid ways.” Our -knowledge, therefore, deals only with ideas. There are the simple ideas -of sensation and reflection, and ideas compounded from these. - -Besides accepting the psychological analysis of Locke, Berkeley also -adopts without question the assumption common to Locke and all the -philosophers of the Enlightenment,――the assumption of the independence -of the individual soul. “But besides all the endless variety of ideas -or objects of knowledge, there is likewise something that knows or -perceives them――what I call mind, spirit, soul, or self. By which I -do not denote any one of my ideas, but a thing entirely distinct from -them, wherein they exist, or, which is the same thing, whereby they are -perceived.” - -Berkeley, therefore, (1) agrees with Locke that all knowledge is -derived from sense-perception, _i. e._ he agrees with Locke’s empirical -psychology, and (2) he also agrees with one of Locke’s assumptions, -viz., that the spiritual substances exist. - -=The Negative Side of Berkeley’s Philosophy.= We have now pointed out -Berkeley’s general relation to Locke and Hume, and more in particular -his agreements with Locke. We are now prepared to examine the teaching -of Berkeley by itself. - -Berkeley was obliged to devote a good deal of time to the negative -side of his philosophy. Just as Locke could not construct an empirical -psychology until he had disclaimed all allegiance to innate ideas, so -Berkeley could not construct an idealism until he had brought to bear -in a polemical fashion all his forces against abstract ideas. Of his -two masterpieces he devotes the entire essay on the _Theory of Vision_ -and a good part of his _Principles of Human Nature_ to this end. - -1. In proof of this he advances his analysis of abstract ideas. He not -only denies that abstract ideas have a corresponding external reality, -but he even denies that abstract ideas exist in the mind itself. The -deception in abstract ideas arises from the use of words as general -terms. Words are always general; ideas are always particular. There -is never an idea that exactly corresponds to a word. Words are useful -not as a conveyance of ideas, but for inciting men to action and -arousing the passions. Whenever a word is used, what we think of is -the particular sense, idea, or group of sense objects that give rise to -it. For example, the word “yellow” cannot be employed by us except in -connection with the thought of some particular yellow thing. Berkeley -is a nominalist of the extremest type. - -2. Again Berkeley seeks to show, by demolishing the distinction between -primary and secondary qualities, that matter as an abstract idea has -no existence. This distinction was as old as the Greek, Democritus, and -was accepted by Locke. We have already described it: of a thing like a -lump of sugar, the sense qualities of whiteness, roughness, sweetness, -etc., are secondary because they depend upon our sensations for their -existence; they are the ways in which our organisms are affected, and -not true copies of things; the mathematical qualities, form, size, -density, impenetrability, are primary because they exist independent -of our senses and are true copies of things. Hobbes had already -shown that such a distinction is erroneous, and Berkeley followed -him by maintaining that all qualities are secondary. The size and -impenetrability of a body depends as much on sense-perception as -its sweetness and color. At some length in his _Theory of Vision_ -Berkeley takes up the question of the solidity, or third dimension, -of a material body, and shows that it is an inference depending on -sensations arising from the convergence of the two eyes and complicated -by the sensations of touch. - -Berkeley professed to be pleading the cause of the man in the street -who wants a philosophy that is real “common sense.” He maintained that -the conception of matter is only a philosophical subtlety for those -philosophers who seek for something beyond perception. The man in -the street wishes to explain things as he finds them, and not to seek -mysterious abstractions which philosophers say in one breath that we -know, and in another that we cannot know. - -Therefore, while Berkeley agreed with Locke’s assumption of the -existence of the spiritual substance, he departed from Locke in denying -the existence of a material substance. Berkeley accepted, therefore, -one of the two assumptions common to the Enlightenment, but he denied -the other. Now Berkeley was trying to prove a thesis. He was controlled -by the ideal of his ardent religious nature to free religion from -false philosophy. He felt that the foes of religion――atheism and -materialism――had employed effectively abstract ideas, which had been -one of the weapons of religion, against religion itself. Berkeley -concentrated his attack against the traditional scholastic conception -of abstract ideas in general and the abstract idea of matter in -particular. Abstract ideas have no existence; the idea of a material -substance is an abstract idea and therefore has no existence. Berkeley -was bound from the beginning of his religious crusade to explain away -the existence of material substance. - -=The Positive Side of Berkeley’s Philosophy.=[42] In the construction -of his theory in a positive way Berkeley abridged the dualism of -“common sense,” and asserted that the abridged form was better. He -converted the dualism into a religious hypothesis, but it was a dualism -still,――a dualism of minds and their ideas. Berkeley then set to -work to show how much better his theory would explain the problems of -knowledge. “Berkeley sought to humanize science.” He set the spirit -free by relieving it of the falsities of the old dualistic assumption, -but the usefulness of his abridgment lay in its solution not of -metaphysical, but of epistemological problems. - -1. Berkeley’s theory may be summed up in his own abbreviated -statement of it,――_Esse est percipi_ (to be is to be perceived). Or it -may be stated in that figurative and oft-quoted paragraph, “Some truths -there are so near and obvious to the mind that a man need only open -his eyes to see them. Such I take this important one to be, viz., that -all the choir of heaven and the furniture of the earth, in a word all -those bodies which compose the mighty frame of the world, have not -any subsistence without a mind――that their being is to be perceived or -known.” Or we may state Berkeley’s position in the terms of a modern -interpreter[43] of him: “All objects are mentally discerned; all -objects are mentally constituted.” Berkeley means that the existence -and character of all objects are within the confines of consciousness, -and there are no objects outside of consciousness. As sense-perceptions -they have reality; as memories they lose their warmth and distinctness; -but they are not objects at all when neither perceived nor remembered. -These objects are always colored by the sense-perception. They -are received through the consciousness, and constituted by the -consciousness. Minds and their ideas are all that exist. - -2. Berkeley does not try to prove the existence of the mind or soul, -nor does he attempt to show that we perceive the soul. But in the -spirit of the Enlightenment he hardly questions its reality. He takes -its existence for granted, and like the philosophers of the period he -makes a direct appeal to consciousness. “I know I am conscious of my -own being.” Like Locke and Descartes he alleges the direct intuition of -the self. In the _Principles_ he speaks of “a notion of our own minds -or spirits.” Since the ideas are copies of other ideas, there can be -no idea of the soul; but the “notion is like the spirit that knows -it.” We have therefore direct knowledge or _notion_ of ourselves in -knowing our ideas; we have direct knowledge of something superior to -the ideas, an activity whose reality consists not in being perceived, -but in perceiving. Indeed, he made the assertion in his _Commonplace -Book_, which he began in college, that nothing properly does exist but -conscious persons. All other things are not so much existences as signs -of the existences of persons. One is absolutely certain of what one -means by “I.” - -3. Spiritual substances are sufficient and adequate to explain all -ideas. There is no difficulty in explaining the images of our own minds, -for our minds control them. But what explains the existence of our -percepts over which we have no control? What substantial support have -they if we remove the “material hypothesis”? Suppose I grant that I -exist and have control of my imaginative ideas, and that other minds -exist and have control of their imaginative ideas, how then, I ask -Berkeley, am I to explain the great world of perceptions over which -neither I nor other men have control? - -Berkeley’s general psychological position must be summarized -here in order to answer this important question. It is as follows: -(1) All things are nothing more than perceptions. (2) All ideas, -both perceptions and images, are passive, and must be caused by -something in itself active. (3) Souls are active and the cause of -ideas. The question then is, What soul is the cause of our perceptions? -Perceptions are ideas, are passive, but they are the ideas of whom? -Repudiate the material substance, and what is the cause of perceptions? - -Perceptions are not originated by me; they cannot be self-originated, -because they are passive and not active; they cannot be originated by -a material substance, because it does not exist. Their origin must be -sought in the infinite spirit, or God. If you will examine the ideas -which constitute what we call nature objects, you will observe these -significant characteristics about them, to which attention has already -been called. They have, as we have said, a strength, liveliness, -distinctness, and orderliness that distinguish them from imaginations. -They are God speaking to us in His orderly way. Nature objects are -the language of God. The regularity and dependability of the world of -nature reveal the character of the Being whose language the world of -nature is. They reveal a Being who is intelligent, infinite, omnipotent, -and benevolent. The regularity of the changing seasons, the constancy -of the heavenly bodies to their orbits, the provision of the earth for -man――all the laws of nature are the language of an orderly Being. - -Now we see the importance of Berkeley’s deviation from Locke in his -(Berkeley’s) conception of all ideas as passive. All ideas being -passive, there must be a cause of them. The only active causes are -spirits. I am the cause or perceiver of my own imaginations. I perceive -another’s movements and know that another person or spirit must be the -cause. When nature speaks in its invariable and purposive harmony, I -know that an infinite spirit is the cause. We are indeed living in a -society of spirits, who speak to one another in their own language. - -The doctrine of Berkeley strikes beginners and people who -temperamentally cannot understand it, as absurd. The reduction of the -trees, sky, etc., to ideas is a theory that has brought down all kinds -of ridicule upon it. When Dr. Johnson heard of it, he is said to have -stamped his foot upon the ground, and thereby refuted it. Byron is -quoted as saying, “If there is no matter, and Berkeley has proved -it, it is no matter what he said.” Others have asked if we eat and -drink ideas and are clothed with ideas. But Berkeley never doubted the -existence of material objects, and the point of his theory is missed -if we think that he did. What he denied is the existence of an unknown -substance, matter, behind external objects. “The table I write on -exists, that is, I see and feel it; and if I were out of my study -I should say it existed, meaning thereby that if I were in my study -I might perceive it or that some other person does perceive it.” - -Another question has been asked of Berkeley which goes deeper. If to be -is to be perceived, what existence has a tree in the forest that no one -has ever perceived. What existence have past events that are forgotten? -Berkeley has considered this objection and has answered it. When he -says that existence depends upon perception, he does not mean merely -my own perception. Berkeley is not what in philosophy is called a -solipsist (_solus_ and _ipse_), _i. e._ one who believes that nothing -exists but himself and his modifications. A thing may have existence -in the mind of some one else. If the thing has never been perceived -by any human being, it is perceived, if the thing exists, by the mind -of God. The modern scientist assumes the existence of matter in the -whole universe. Berkeley assumes the existence of a perceiving God. -One is the materialistic and the other the religious explanation of -the universe. - -=The Life and Writings of David Hume[44]= (1711–1776). Hume’s life -bears some marks of external resemblance to Berkeley’s. After periods -of training that differed very greatly in point of discipline, but were -almost the same in point of time, both produced, at about the age of -twenty-five, their most important philosophical works. Both turned from -philosophy to other pursuits――Berkeley to missionary work at the age -of thirty-six, and Hume to politics at the age of forty-one. There -the resemblance between the two men ceases; for they were antipodal -by nature, and animated by different purposes. The enthusiastic nature -of Berkeley is in marked contrast with the unimpassioned nature of -the Scot. Hume was unimaginative to the last. He was unimpressed by -the legends of the border where he lived; he had no love for nature -and no appreciation of art. “While Hume’s intellect was imperial, -his sympathies were provincial.” Berkeley’s sympathies were imperial -and his intellect was in their service. Hume was a man of kindly -disposition and of moderate temper, yet he was vain, and interested -above everything else in his own reputation. No object seemed worth -while to him, unless it made for the improvement of his talents in -literature. The failure of the _Treatise_ was a blow from which he -never recovered. Always afterward he had an eye to popularity, and this -is important in making up our judgment about him. All his works after -the _Treatise_ were written to please his readers and for personal -success. Locke the Englishman, Berkeley the Irishman, and Hume the -Scotchman came from the same middle class of society, had university -training, were engaged in public service, and are to be classed in -the same empirical school of philosophy. But they were personally -very different kinds of men, and were types, although perhaps not -representatives, of their nationalities. - -1. _Period of Training_ (1711–1734). Hume was born in Edinburgh -and lived there and at Ninewells on the border. He was a student at -Edinburgh University (1723–1726) and studied law the next year. He was -in business in Bristol in 1734. In all the occupations of this period -he was unhappy. - -2. _Period of Philosopher_ (1734–1752). From 1734 to 1737 Hume was -in retirement in France, especially at La Flèche, where he wrote -his _Treatise on Human Nature_. He returned to Edinburgh in 1737 and -published his _Treatise_ (1739–1740). It was read by nobody and was -an absolute failure. So he rewrote Book I in 1748 and called it the -_Enquiry concerning Human Understanding_. Hume’s full statement of -his theory of knowledge is contained in the _Treatise_ and not in -the _Enquiry_. He rewrote Book III in 1751 and called it the _Enquiry -concerning Principles of Morals_, “of all my writings, incomparably the -best,” and in 1757 he published Book II as an _Essay on the Passions in -Four Dissertations_. He became acquainted with Adam Smith in 1740; he -published _Essays, Moral and Political_, in 1741–1742, and was a tutor -in 1745, because he needed money. In 1746–1748 he became secretary in -the English military embassy to Vienna. In 1751, the same year that he -was recasting the third book of the _Treatise_, he wrote his _Dialogues -concerning Natural Religion_, which was not published until 1779. His -autobiography was also published posthumously. - -3. _Period of Politician_ (1752–1776). In 1752 Hume published his -_Political Discourses_, “the only work of mine that was successful on -its first publication.” In 1754–1761, while Librarian at Edinburgh, he -wrote and published his _History of England_. This work was the first -serious attempt since the Revolution to give an impartial account -of the earlier struggles against the Stuarts. Through it he at last -got great fame, and fortune followed in its wake. In 1757 came his -restatement of Book II of the _Treatise_. In 1763–1765 Hume was -secretary of the English Embassy at Paris, and he was made much of by -French society. The thought of the French Enlightenment had advanced -far enough to entertain him and his doctrines. Hume met Rousseau at -this time. Later Hume was visited by Rousseau in England and was badly -treated by the eccentric Frenchman. He says that Rousseau sins at the -foundation. Hume was appointed Under Secretary of State in 1766; he -returned to Edinburgh in 1769, and died in 1776. - -=Influences upon the Thought of Hume.= The writings of Hume show -no erudition, and for that reason it is uncertain what were all the -sources from which he drew. He does not mention Descartes, for example, -although he wrote his _Treatise_ at La Flèche in the shadow of the -school where Descartes was educated. It is probable, however, that Hume -was influenced at least by the Greek philosophers of the Hellenic-Roman -Period, and by Locke. During the years after Hume’s student life at -the university, he pored over the writings of the Roman Stoics in the -library at Ninewells, and he felt the influence of Cicero, Seneca, -and Plutarch. Hume read extensively, and he reacted from his reading. -He became so dissatisfied with the past that he put it aside, in the -belief that the true philosophy had not yet been written. In this -reaction from the past he was influenced along the lines of Locke and -Berkeley. He admired the advance that Berkeley had made over Locke, -and naturally took a further step in the same direction. Hume was also -acquainted with the writings of Hobbes and with the history of the -English theories of morals. - -In 1740 he became acquainted with Adam Smith, the political economist, -and Hume’s _Political Discourses_ (1752) anticipated Smith’s classic -_Wealth of Nations_. At this time (1752) he turned with all other -Englishmen from the discussion of philosophical to political topics. -There are many points of resemblance between Smith and Hume, especially -in their ethical doctrine. - -=Dogmatism, Phenomenalism, and Skepticism.= Hume liked to speak of -himself as a skeptic, but philosophically speaking he was skeptical -only of the dogmatic Rationalism of the Renaissance, which had made -unlimited claims for the human reason. Hume maintained in the spirit -of the Enlightenment that the human mind deals with ideas and not with -reality. Human knowledge has therefore its limits. More consistently -than Locke or any one else in the Enlightenment, he tried to show the -limits and extent of human knowledge. - -Pure skepticism is the denial that there is any such thing as truth; -pure dogmatism would be the deductive explanation of all problems from -a set of infallible principles. It would be hard to find an absolutely -true example of skepticism or dogmatism, for generally philosophical -theories are a mixture of dogmatism and skepticism. Pyrrho is often -given as an example of the pure skeptic, but Pyrrho, like all other -Greeks, never for a moment doubted the existence of an external, -material object (vol. i, chapter xii). Spinoza is a fairly good -example of a pure dogmatist, but he developed his _Ethics_ by -means of interpolated principles not in his original assumptions. A -thorough-going skeptic would have to be a modern――not a Greek――who -would deny that truth can be known and that things exist. This was -not Hume’s contention. He affirmed the validity (1) of mathematical -reasoning (2) and of matters of fact, and (3) the probability of -the natural sciences. Hume may correctly be called a phenomenalist, -a positivist, or an agnostic. So far as he maintained that there are -some things which the reason cannot know, he is an agnostic. In his -affirmation that we can know ideas and only ideas, he is a positivist. -In his affirmation that ideas are the only existences, he is a -phenomenalist. Are external objects the cause of sensations? Experience -is dumb. Have external objects an existence? Experience is dumb. -Are souls the substance of our thoughts? Experience is dumb. But -mathematics has truth, experience is beyond question, and the workings -of nature are probable. - -We shall find Hume to be the keenest critical mind of this -critical period of the Enlightenment. He is profoundly serious -in his examination of the roots of the intellectual life. He is -past-master in the art of raising questions. He not only shows that -the fundamental theoretical problems are still unsolved, but he also -calls to account the hitherto untested assumptions of practical life. -But this is criticism, positivism, phenomenalism, or agnosticism, and -not skepticism. He speaks of his doctrine as like that of the Middle -Academy, in contrast with that of Pyrrho. He says that excessive -skepticism upsets activity, employment, and common occupations. The -conclusions of the intellect never agree with our natural instincts. -Every time positive skepticism appears, nature destroys it. - -Hume’s conclusion as to the practical attitude of the positivist -toward life can best be stated in his own words (_Treatise_, Book I, -Conclusion): “Shall we then establish it for a general maxim, that no -refined or elaborate reasoning is ever to be received? If we embrace -this principle, we run into the most manifest absurdities. If we -reject it in favor of those reasonings, we subvert entirely the human -understanding. We have, therefore, no choice left, but between a -false reason and none at all. Most fortunately it happens that since -reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds, nature suffices to that -purpose, and cures me of this philosophical melancholy. I dine, I play -a game of backgammon, I converse, and am merry with my friends.――No: -If I must be a fool, as all who reason or believe anything certainly -are, my follies shall at least be natural and agreeable. In all the -incidents of life we ought still to preserve our skepticism. Where -reason is lively and mixes itself with some propensity it ought to be -assented to.” - -=The Origin of Ideas.= Locke did not proceed to the construction of -his theory of knowledge until he had disclaimed at length his belief -in the existence of innate ideas. Berkeley went further and made his -polemic against the existence of all abstract ideas. Hume went still -further and denied that any ideas existed except those derived from -impressions. Locke’s attack upon innate ideas was an attack upon -unverified tradition; Berkeley’s attack upon abstract ideas was an -attack upon materialism; Hume made a general attack upon rationalism. -The psychology of Hume is thus made simple. It is a cancellation of the -factors incompatible with strict empiricism――the factors which he found -in Locke and Berkeley. Hume’s empirical psychology is simply this: -_every idea is the image or copy of an impression_. - -What is an impression? Impressions are of two classes: (1) sensations -or outer impressions; (2) feelings or emotions or inner impressions. -Impressions are never mistaken, because they always have a very lively -and vivid character. What is an idea? It is the copy of an impression. -An idea should never be mistaken for an impression, because it is -fainter and more feeble than the impression of which it is the copy. -For example, the sensation of yellow is more vigorous than the thought -of yellow; the feeling of anger more vivid than the thought of anger. -Impressions are simple and elemental. Can we go back of them and find -their origin? We cannot. We receive impressions; echoes of impressions -linger as ideas; ideas may be compounded with other ideas. Hume deals -in his criticism mostly with the compounding or combining of ideas, -but this is the sum and substance of his psychological analysis of our -mental life. The following table will help us. - - { Sensations or outer - { Impressions { impressions - { (= original) { Feelings or inner - { { impressions - Perceptions { - (= mental { { Memories or an exact - states) { { reproduction of an - { { impression or of a - { Ideas { combination of impressions - { (= derived) { Imagination or a combination, - { separation, and transposition - { of impressions according to - { the imagination’s own laws. - -It should be noted, however, that the above classes are not coördinate -according to Hume. Impressions are prior to ideas, and of the -impressions the feelings or inner impressions are “posterior to the -sensations and derived from them.” Hume is a sensationalist, for the -most original of the impressions are sensations. - -=The Association of Ideas.= Since nothing can enter the mind except -through the two portals of outer and inner impressions, every idea -in the mind is the copy of one or several impressions. How then can -there be any such thing as error? Error arises from the understanding -and imagination in their manipulation of the impressions――from -the faculties of the mind combining, separating, and transposing -the impressions and their memories. An idea resulting from such -transposition may and often is referred to an impression different -from the one of which it is the copy. - -What does Hume mean by the faculties and powers of the mind? He does -not mean that the mind with its functions exists as a reality, since -all that exist are impressions and the copies of impressions or ideas. -Hume means by mental faculties and powers the various modes by which -ideas combine. Hume makes no distinction between memory, imagination, -judgment, conception, etc., except (1) as different groupings of ideas -and (2) as accompanied by different feelings. _The whole mental life -and the faculties of the mental life are nothing but an association of -ideas._ Isolated ideas are explained as copies of isolated impressions; -and from these ideas are derived groups of ideas which we call trains -of thought. Why do ideas group themselves together? The only answer -is that it is the nature of ideas. Hume frequently speaks of these -associative relations as “the manner of conceiving ideas.” He also -says that there is a “gentle force” or “determination” of the ideas -to relate themselves with other ideas. Given the impressions and their -relations, and Hume will explain the whole knowing process. Associative -relations take an important place in Hume’s theory, but some critics -say that they are interlopers; that he has introduced them by a back -door; that they are not mentioned in his psychological inventory. - -But to Hume there is nothing mysterious about the association of ideas. -They are combined, transposed, augmented, and diminished according -to fixed rules under mechanical laws. Their relationship takes place -without freedom. Impressions occur in the way they happen to occur. -Ideas combine in the way they happen to combine. Relations between -ideas are accidental and external. There is only one quality of ideas -that does not depend on its accidental relation to other ideas. This is -the quality of non-contradiction. This is the necessary property of an -impression. An impression must be what it is, and cannot be conceived -as having properties contrary to its own nature. The quality of -identity in an impression is intrinsic and necessary. - -According to Hume, there are three fundamental ways in which ideas -associate, called the three laws of association. (1) There is the _law -of resemblance_ or contrast, by which the occurrence of a thing calls -up a similar thing or its opposite. Mathematics is based upon this law -of the resemblance, the contrariety, and the quantitative relations of -ideas. (2) There is _the law of contiguity in time and space_, by which -things happening together in time and space are recalled together. Upon -this law are based the descriptive and experimental sciences. (3) There -is the _law of causation_, upon which religion and the metaphysics of -the world of nature are based. The question with Hume is, How is he -to explain all these laws of association as derived from impressions? -If they cannot be derived from impressions, then his theory that -all knowledge is derived from impressions goes to the wall. The -Rationalists and even his predecessors, Locke and Berkeley, had -conceived mathematical propositions and causation as underived and in -the nature of things. If Hume is to establish his doctrine of complete -sensational empiricism, here is his test. - -These associations, and not isolated impressions, are the objects -of human interest, inquiry, and investigation. Hume makes a further -reduction of associations by his well-known classification of them -as either “relations of ideas” or “matters of fact.” Associations of -contiguity and associations of causation are “matters of fact,” while -associations of resemblance are “relations of ideas.” Furthermore, Hume -looks upon associations of contiguity as those of outer impressions, -associations of resemblance as those of inner impressions, while -associations of causation are not what they are alleged to be, but -are derived from some inner impressions. - - { { 1. Contiguity Outer Descriptive - { Matters { association impressions Sciences - Objects of { of Fact { - Knowledge { { 2. Causation Inner Metaphysics - { { association[45] impressions - { - { Relations { 3. Resemblance Inner Mathematics - { of Ideas { association impressions - -=The Association of Contiguity.= This is the most elementary of the -three classes of association, and concerns the spatial and temporal -order in which impressions come to us. Two impressions come at the same -time or in succession, and when one of them is remembered, the other is -likely to be remembered also. We see a man and hear his name; when we -remember the man’s face, we may remember his name also. Hume maintains -that this association of succession or coexistence is given with the -impressions themselves. It is the order of the _outer impressions_. -We perceive the order of the outer impressions with the same certainty -that we perceive the contents of the impressions. _This is the only -certainty we have about “matters of fact,”_――a certainty of the exact -order of our immediate outer impressions. We know the order in which -our impressions do occur, but, as we shall see, when we argue from this -that our impressions must recur in the same order we are involved in a -fallacy. Any order may recur. The fact that the sun rises in the east -to-day does not make certain that it will rise in the east to-morrow. -It is only a matter of probability, however many times repeated. There -is no certain science of “matters of fact.” - -=The Association of Resemblance.= This is a clear and distinct -association which is given with the impressions. When we have an -impression, we see intuitively its similarity or difference to other -impressions, and the degrees of likeness and unlikeness. The face of -one man reminds us of another man, or we contrast it with a brute’s -face. _This association concerns only inner impressions_, while the -association of contiguity concerns outer impressions. This has to do -with the “relation of ideas,” while the association of contiguity has -to do with “matters of fact.” - -=1. Mathematics.= But there is this difference between the association -of resemblance and that of contiguity――upon resemblance is founded -a demonstrative science. This is mathematics――the sole demonstrative -science. The subject-matter of mathematics consists of the possible -relations between the contents of our ideas――the possible relations -between our inner impressions. These relations are intuitively known -by us, and out of them we get a science of complete certainty. We make -a comparison between the magnitudes in the contents of ideas, and we -analyze their regularity. This is mathematics, and it is a perfectly -legitimate science. Because it confines itself to the relations between -ideas, and has nothing to do with “matters of fact,” it can be a -demonstrative science. All mathematical knowledge is restricted to the -study and verification of ideas, and has therefore nothing to do with -the external world. - -=2. The Conception of Substance: Hume’s Attack on Theology.= But the -association of resemblance has been made the basis of a common illusion. -It has been made to transcend its proper sphere of a relationship among -inner impressions; and resemblance between ideas has been taken by -people generally to mean metaphysical identity or substance. It has -been transformed from a relationship between ideas to a relationship -between “matters of fact.” Now substance is evidently not an -association given with the impressions, like their temporal and spatial -order in the association of contiguity, nor is it mere impression of -resemblance. Substance is the conception of an unknown, indescribable -something back of impressions. There is the conception of the material -substance or matter, and the spiritual substance or the soul. How did -such illusory conceptions arise? If Hume rejects them as matters of -real knowledge, he must nevertheless explain their psychological origin. -The illusory idea of substance originates from the similarity of the -frequent conjoining of certain impressions. The impressions――sweet, -rough, white, etc.――occur together so often that the imagination -creates the conception of the substance of sugar behind them. This -arises not from the first experience, but after the association -of impressions has been observed a large number of times. From the -frequent association of ideas arises the _feeling_ of their necessary -coexistence. Thus do we come to have the idea of a material substance. - -Hume evidently follows Berkeley in his criticism of material substance. -But Berkeley went only halfway. Berkeley had found that bodies were -only conjunctions of sensations, and he had rejected as meaningless -the unknown substance behind them. He did not see that the same attack -could be made upon spiritual substances. Berkeley’s argument against -the substance of the cherry could be used against the Ego or the Soul. -Have I the impression of my Ego? Can I touch it or see it? The simple -test shows that I know nothing about it, and I cannot affirm whether -or not it exists. But if the conception of the Soul has no reality as -an object of knowledge, how can it be psychologically explained? How -does it arise in the mind? The idea of the Soul is due to the frequent -reappearance of the same trains of thought in my mind. Their similarity -gives rise to the feeling that a metaphysical identity, or Soul, exists -behind them. - -=The Association of Causation: Hume’s Attack on Science.= Among -the many traditional conceptions upon which Hume turned his critical -examination, that of causation occupies the most of his attention. -He discusses it both in the _Treatise_ and in the _Enquiry_. He -is the first philosopher since Aristotle to give it comprehensive -treatment. He saw that all philosophical, theological, and indeed -scientific knowledge rests upon this conception of causation. It was -accepted without question by the Scholastics of the Middle Ages, the -Rationalists of the Renaissance, and the scientists of his own time. -If the conception is valid, Hume’s criticism goes for naught; for “by -means of that relation we can go beyond the evidence of our memory and -senses.” In that case what becomes of Hume’s psychological analysis -that all knowledge consists of impressions and ideas? And if Hume’s -psychology falls, all his criticism of the spiritual and the material -substance falls also. Upon the validity of the concept of cause depend -many of the scholastic arguments for the existence of God, whose -existence we can demonstrate although He is not an object of sense -impression. Imagination can then go on unrestricted; for God is -accepted not only as cause, but as first or uncaused cause. Descartes, -Leibnitz, and even Berkeley and Locke had accepted the causal argument -for the existence of God, although the latter two had pretended to -restrict knowledge to sense-perceptions and ideas. Again, the causal -concept has been the foundation for the belief in a functioning soul -behind the mental and physical activities of a human being; and on the -same causal concept man has argued from sensations to their material -substrate. All this is unwarranted and unrestricted knowledge because -it “goes beyond the memory and senses.” Not only theology, but science -itself has gone “beyond the memory and senses.” Hume dares to doubt -the certainty of the causal principle even in scientific knowledge. Is -there any necessary connection among events so that with certainty we -can predict the occurrence of one event if another is given? Is there -in nature and history any causal law so binding that every event is a -necessary result of what has gone before and a necessary cause of what -will come? The question of cause is, therefore, paramount with Hume. -If he is successful in impeaching cause as he has been in the case of -substance, scientific theory must fall with theological dogma. - -In his review of the conceptions of time and space (association by -contiguity), Hume had found succession to be a quality of impressions -and to be given with them. But that is all that can be said――the -relation is one of time order, but not a relation that is necessary. -The outer impressions happen to occur thus and thus; they need not have -occurred thus, and may never occur in this order again. This temporal -order is not by any means a causal order. The idea of cause is that -of power transferred, but we have no impression of power. Impressions -come as sequences, not as consequences or as powers. Sequences of -impressions are the only “matters of fact”; consequences are not -“matters of fact.” They must, therefore, be only “relations between -ideas” and have no objective reality. From Hume’s point of view this -is sufficient to show that cause is not valid and real. - -To deny that we have the concept of cause would, however, be nonsense. -We do have the concept, and how is its psychological origin to be -explained? How does the idea arise? It does not originate (1) as an _a -priori_ concept, _i. e._ by an analysis of ideas, nor (2) as an outer -impression, _i. e._ a sensation, nor (3) as memory, since memories -are images of impressions. The idea of cause originates from an inner -impression――a strong and lively feeling connected with the imagination. -But how does it happen that the feeling is so strong that it makes us -believe the idea, with which it is connected, is a reality? The feeling -does not arise from a single instance of conjunction of two impressions, -but from the conjunction of two ideas repeated many times. _The belief -in cause is a feeling originating in the constant conjunction of -impressions._ This explains why the ideas that fire will burn, that -poison will kill, that water will wet――are so lively. The conjunction -occurs many times, and an inner necessity or compulsion arises to -imagine the second impression after the first. Given the first idea, we -learn to expect the second. Repetition produces nothing new in objects, -but it produces in the mind a new feeling to pass from one idea to the -idea usually attending it. Necessity exists in the mind and not in the -objects. - -=The Extent and Limits of Human Knowledge.= What remnants of -knowledge remain after Hume has applied his destructive criticism? His -critics would answer that, if Hume had been consistent, no knowledge -whatever would remain. Upon the basis of pure positivism, that all -knowledge is composed of impressions and their copies, knowledge is an -impossibility. But he introduced an additional element, “relations,” -that made knowledge possible because it afforded synthesis and allowed -distinctions. - -Taking Hume’s doctrine as it stands, his results are these. There -are two classes of sciences, the formal and the empirical. The formal -includes logic and mathematics, and consists of knowledge of relations -between ideas. Such knowledge has certainty and validity. Empirical -sciences consist in knowledge of matters of fact. Such knowledge -never amounts to more than probability. There is no certainty or -demonstration in natural science. Its results call forth not conviction, -but belief. Beyond these subjects we have no knowledge whatever. -Metaphysics and theology are only fictions. Beyond impressions and -the copies of impressions we can make no assertions. The tendency of -thought to trench beyond its own territory is the cause of all our -metaphysical difficulties. It tries to do what it was not intended -to do, and the result is abstract ideas. Reason and the relation -of resemblance give us the erroneous idea of spiritual and material -substance; imagination and the relation of cause give the erroneous -idea of the fundamental principle of nature. - -=Hume’s Theory of Religion and Ethics.= Hume is so true an empiricist -to the end that he is a remarkable exception among the philosophers -of the Enlightenment. He alone among philosophers shows the historical -sense in the application of his positivism to religion and morals. In -general the Enlightenment took no account of the past; in this Hume -differs from his contemporaries. - -Hume was the destroyer of deism because he advanced historical evidence -against deism. Deism had three principles: that religion is the object -of scientific investigation; that religion had its origin in the reason; -and that “natural religion” is the oldest form. Hume agreed to the -first proposition, but he revealed his historical instinct by showing -that religion did not originate in the reason, but in the feelings; and -that not “natural religion,” but idolatry, etc., is the oldest form. -Furthermore, he stood almost alone among philosophers of the period in -building ethics upon the feelings rather than upon the intellect. The -ethical motives of man are pleasure and pain, and not an idea of the -reason. Hume’s historic sense led him to this conclusion. - -Both morals and religion should be empirically investigated. As in -science, so in them the most cogent conclusions are only probable and -not intuitive. Our moral activities are under the same kind of law -of cause that exists in the world of nature-phenomena. The will is -determined by the feelings, and the reason is the slave of the passions. -Our moral judgment is based on the feeling of sympathy (Adam Smith). -It is practically probable that there is a purpose in the world and -therefore a God. But this cannot be established. On the same principle -of probability the world may have grown up mechanically or by chance. -Religion is naturally reasonable enough, but its doctrines cannot be -proved. - -=The Scottish School.= This school represents in Great Britain the -reaction from the sensualism of the Enlightenment. The Scottish School -was the British reply to Hume, just as Kant was the German reply. They -were the late eighteenth century reactions in two countries to the -Enlightenment. The teaching of Kant was, however, also the beginning -of a new movement and a new period. The Scottish School has no such -importance. - -Thomas Reid (1710–1796) was the founder. Reid admitted that Berkeley -and Hume drew legitimate conclusions from Locke’s general assumption -that the objects of thought are not things, but ideas. Therefore Reid -maintained that Locke’s position must be given up. Still empiricism -remains tenable and must be applied to the phenomena of mind. What are -the data of consciousness? Not individual ideas, as Locke said, but -complex ideas or judgments. The elements will be discovered later by -analysis of these complex states which are first given. The mind is not -a blank piece of paper upon which simple characters are first inscribed, -and then later the understanding introduced to form judgments and the -reflection to add belief in the existence of objects. Our knowledge -starts rather from judgments, which involve certain original truths or -“natural judgments.” Mankind possesses the faculty of “common sense,” -and this faculty makes these truths a common possession. Among the -principles that “common sense” includes are self-consciousness, the -reality of objects perceived, and the principle of cause. - -The Scottish School called attention to the importance of -self-observation. The members of the school made their attack -upon sensualism from the point of empirical psychology. Philosophy -became in their hands the perfecting of psychology as a science of -inner observation. Thus they were in accord with the school of the -Enlightenment, although opposed to its sensualistic outcome. The -prominent members of the school were Reid, Dugald Stewart, Brown, and -Sir William Hamilton. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - THE ENLIGHTENMENT IN FRANCE AND GERMANY[46] - - -=The Situation in France in the Enlightenment.= The historian of the -French Enlightenment has to take account of the reign of two kings; -that of Louis XIV (1643–1715); and that of Louis XV (1715–1774). -Together they cover the long period of one hundred and thirty-one years. -The reign of Louis XV marks the actual development of the Enlightenment, -while that of Louis XIV contains the causes. The long reign of -seventy-two years of Louis XIV had been an absolute, arbitrary, and -personal government. It had been an age unsurpassed in literature -and eloquence, but also an age in which all those subjects that did -not redound to the glory of the church were suppressed. It had been -the age of Molière, Corneille, Racine, La Fontaine, and Fénelon; -an age when art was encouraged, but also an age in which political -and philosophical originality would not presume to breathe. Between -Descartes’ death in 1650 and the death of Louis XIV in 1715, one finds -a single philosopher, Pierre Bayle, and he had to leave France. The -Newtonian physics was not accepted in France until 1732――forty-five -years after its publication in England. Upon the death of Louis XIV the -artistic glories of his reign lost all their value for the nation. In -their place was set the problem of the material misery of the nation, -which had been caused by the long wars and the extravagance of paternal -government. - -The reign of Louis XV seethes with the struggle of social forces. It is -a period in which the individual is striving to gain his rights under -the institutions that have so long repressed him. The development of -the French Enlightenment is identical with the struggle for political -liberty. In no other period of history――except perhaps the Age of -Pericles――is the history of philosophic thought so intimately connected -with political history. The fifty-nine years of the reign of Louis XV -are filled with exciting events which interest both the philosopher -and the historian. The French Enlightenment is the “reaction against -that protective and interfering spirit which reached its zenith -under Louis XIV.” With Louis XV the magnificence and the utility of -ecclesiastical and political absolutism could not be maintained. For -the hierarchy of the church was unable longer to keep up its claim of -independence and morality; and the State was rapidly exhausting its -power by exhausting its financial resources. Each event in the history -of France in the eighteenth century had therefore two aspects――each -led to the Revolution, and each was a step in the development of the -Enlightenment of the individual. The pioneers in the movement could -not have been conscious of the end to which their criticism would lead; -but to us looking back upon the century the result seems inevitable. -A comparison with the situation in England is interesting. While in -England the political and ecclesiastical institutions were so elastic -that they could without disintegrating absorb the movement of the -Enlightenment, and while they were so little bound to traditional -institutions that the growth in individualism would be constitutional, -the situation in France was exactly opposite. (1) In France the church -and the political institutions had become inelastic bodies under -Louis XIV. They had reached the limit of their development. So deeply -rooted in absolutism and special privileges were they that they were -not open to innovation or reform. During the reign of Louis XV the -only question was, which would be crushed――the new individualism or the -old institutions. No compromise was possible. The institutions, having -survived their usefulness, gave way. (2) In the next place the French -church and state had for many years been identified with oppression -and tyranny, while the English people had within a century gained -many needed reforms by beheading one king and forcing out another. -Consequently the English government of the eighteenth century was -identified with the liberty of the individual. In England political and -religious speculation followed and did not precede political reforms. -In France the opposite was true. To the mind of the French people the -church represented only superstition, and the state only profligacy -and tyranny. The more they seemed to support each other in one social -structure, the more rapid, virulent, and excessive would naturally be -the reaction against both when once individualism got a footing. - -The result was that while in England the Enlightenment always remained -critical and negative, in France it became an obstinate and positive -dogmatism. Behind French criticism was developing a philosophical creed. -The French Enlightenment was a social cause and a self-sustaining idea. -The French philosophers of the eighteenth century, on the whole, were -not superior men intellectually, for they were inclined to make the -small look large and the large great. But although their perspective -was inaccurate, they had an enthusiastic faith in progress and humanity. - -=The English Influence in France.= Louis XIV and his two predecessors -had made Paris the intellectual centre of Europe, and up to 1690 it had -no rival. The French language had taken its place beside the Latin as -the language of science. The circle of scientists existing just before -and at the beginning of Louis XIV’s reign had its equal nowhere in -Europe. We remember how Hobbes found Euclid in Paris, Locke spent four -years at or near Paris, Leibnitz gained there all his mathematical -erudition and training. During the seventeenth century Paris was the -centre of scholastic influence, and this is seen directly or indirectly -in the writings of all seventeenth century philosophers. The English -had taken their cue from the French; but on the other hand, it is -doubtful if as late as the death of Louis there were a half dozen -Frenchmen that knew the English language. - -About the time of the publication of Locke’s _Essay_ the intellectual -centre of gravity began to move from Paris to London. The founding -of the Royal Society in Oxford in 1660 was the beginning of the -organization of British scientific influence. Newton’s physics (1687) -then began to supplant the Cartesian physics, and Locke’s psychological -doctrines the dogmatism of the Rationalists, among the thinkers of -western Europe. Newtonian physics and English empiricism became the -scientific watchwords of the eighteenth century; and although the -French were late in accepting them, it is said that at the end of -the Enlightenment there was no cultured Frenchman who could not read -English. We find that such notable Frenchmen as Voltaire, Montesquieu, -Buffon, Brissot, Helvetius, Gournay, Jussieu, Lafayette, Maupertuis, -Mirabeau, Roland, and Rousseau visited England during the period -from the death of Louis XIV to the Revolution. Poets, mathematicians, -historians, naturalists, philologists, philosophers, and essayists all -agreed to the necessity of studying the language and people on whom -their fathers had not deigned to waste thought except in contempt. - -But perhaps the political motive was quite as strong as the scientific -in turning the French of the eighteenth century toward England. The -English government was the example of political liberty of that time. -The rising inquisitive thinkers of France had no alternative but to -turn to free England for spiritual support against their own decrepit -tyranny. The first French visitors were amazed at English prosperity, -even though the crown had decreased in power――amazed at the liberty -of the press and Parliament, amazed at the control of the revenues by -the representative body. England thus became the school for all the -thinkers of Europe, and through her literature taught the lesson of -political liberty first to France, and then to all Europe. - -=The Two Periods of the French Enlightenment.= The eighteenth century -divides itself in France much the same as it does in England. There -are two periods: the first extending to the middle of the century, when -the Enlightenment of the individual is thought to lie in intellectual -cultivation; the second, when his salvation becomes social and -practical. The first period is dominated by Voltaire, and advanced by -Montesquieu and the Encyclopædists; the second is dominated by Rousseau, -and results in the Revolution. - -The two periods have a common fundamental motive, although the means -used are radically different. Both represent a gradual progression -toward the elevation of the individual in his reaction against -the institutions of the seventeenth century. But the first was an -intellectual Enlightenment and all that this means, while the second -was emotional and social. The first was aristocratic, while the second -was democratic. Yet the whole movement was a gradual filtering of -the doctrine of individualism from the upper to the lower classes. It -naturally took the form, first, of intellectual culture, and then of -an appeal to spontaneity. The intellectual theories of the first period -were bound to find practical expression in the second. In the first -period the champions of the ancient monarchy were forced to defend -it on their opponents’ own ground――that of rationality. In the second -period, the monarchists had to change their battleground and make some -practical reforms. In the first, the attack was made principally on the -church, in the second on society. While the attack on the state began -early, it attained significance not until the middle of the century. - -=The Intellectual Enlightenment (1729–1762). Voltaire, Montesquieu, -and the Encyclopædists.= The first representatives of the French -Enlightenment were Voltaire and Montesquieu. Voltaire went to England -in 1726, and Montesquieu in 1728, and they both returned to France -in 1729. Voltaire published his _Letters on the English_ in 1734 and -his _Elements of the Philosophy of Newton_ in 1738.[47] Montesquieu -had published a fierce invective against the political institutions -of France in 1721, a discussion of the decadence of the Romans in -1734, and his famous _Spirit of the Laws_ in 1748, selling twenty-two -editions in eighteen months. Voltaire introduced and espoused the -religious theory of Locke in deistic form, and Montesquieu expounded -Locke’s theory of government. Their writings were widely read by the -upper classes, and this theoretical revolutionary movement against all -existing institutions got momentum about 1735. - -The aim of this movement was entirely aristocratic. The solution of the -existing predicament in France lay for them in the greater care of the -masses by an enlightened tyranny. The dualism of the classes was always -assumed. The few are to be cultured; for them reason is to take the -place of dogma. The masses are not amenable to reason, have no capacity -for education, and for them religion suffices. To free the individual -from terror of the supernatural, to release his morality from -Jesuitical dominance, to give him intellectual independence of state -and church――this was the working idea of the intellectual Enlightenment. -Thought should be free, and the conscience of the individual should -be untrammeled, because the reason is a sufficient guide. Being thus -rationalistic, the movement was aristocratic. A new aristocracy should -be substituted for the old――an aristocracy of the cultured instead of -the corrupt and ignorant, who were then the dominant French classes -in church and state. The illuminati should participate in the existing -political privileges. - -=Voltaire= (1694–1778).[48] Voltaire was a deist when he went to -England, and he was therefore very much impressed by the prevalent -English deism. Among the English deists, Bolingbroke had the greatest -influence over him, and he was the “direct progenitor of Voltaire’s -religious opinions.” Bolingbroke’s light and supercilious infidelity -of the man of the world was suited to Voltaire. A universal genius, -Voltaire wrote on every subject; but “not one of his books but bears -marks of his sojourn in England.” He read with familiarity all the -English philosophers,――Hobbes, Berkeley, Cudworth, Locke; but always -returning to Locke. “Harassed, wearied, ashamed of having sought so -many truths and found so many chimeras, I returned like a prodigal -son to his father and threw myself into the arms of that modest man -who never pretends to know what he does not know; who in truth has no -enormous possessions, but whose substance is well assured.” - -In his _Philosophical Letters_ Voltaire makes invidious comparisons -between Locke’s Empiricism and Descartes’ Rationalism, between English -Deism and French Catholicism, and between the English government -and the French government. Toward Christianity, as he saw it in his -own country, his hatred amounted to fanaticism. His strictures were -so scathing that Christians have looked upon him as an atheist. He -was, however, a deist, who believed that, while we can know God’s -existence, we cannot know his nature. He was fond of bringing all -dogma under criticism, and “while he denied nothing, he cast suspicion -upon everything.” He called himself the “ignorant philosopher.” To -him atheism was preferable to dogma and superstition. His passion for -invective against the French clergy was so great that his constructive -statements about God and immortality were cold and impersonal. - -=The Encyclopædists.=[49] In modern times the French have been -unequaled in their encyclopædias and dictionaries. The famous -_Encyclopédie_ or _Dictionnaire Raisonné_ was what its name implies. -It was published in seventeen volumes during the years from 1751 to -1766, and had an addition of eleven volumes of plates (1766–1772). -Thirty thousand copies were printed in the first instance, and -in 1774 it was translated into four foreign languages. The moving -spirit and editor-in-chief was Diderot (1713–1784) and his chief -assistant d’Alembert. They were assisted by many notable French -writers like Voltaire, Rousseau, Grimm, von Holbach, etc., who wrote -separate articles. There was a host of unsolicited contributors. -Two years before the _Encyclopædia_, Buffon had begun to publish his -_Natural History_ in forty-three volumes, the last volume appearing -in 1789. The _Encyclopædia_ had two predecessors,――Bacon’s chapter -on _Experimental History_ and Chambers’s _Encyclopædia_. The articles -in the _Encyclopædia_ were presumably scientific explanations -alphabetically arranged, such as would appear in any work of the -sort. Frequently they were disguised attacks upon existing French -institutions. Often a detailed description, as on the subject “Taxes” -or “God,” would reveal existing French conditions. As Comte says, -“The _Encyclopædia_ furnished a rallying ground for the most divergent -efforts without any sacrifice of essential independence, and made a -mass of incoherent speculation appear like a coherent system.” The two -successive periods of the movement of the Enlightenment unite in the -_Encyclopædia_ against the common enemy of authority. - -There are two things to be noticed in connection with the -_Encyclopædia_: the men who wrote it went much further toward -individualism and skepticism than did Voltaire; and the _Encyclopædia_ -reached a wider circle and different classes than did the works of -Voltaire. Instead of the deism of Voltaire we find contributions -from skeptics, atheists, and materialists,――men who are becoming more -negative in their opinions as the century advances. The thorough-going -agnosticism of the Encyclopædist group reached a point where it ceased -to be a philosophy. Diderot had said that the first step in philosophy -is unbelief, and his associates went so far as to think that unbelief -is all of philosophy. Their extreme sensationalism, naturalism, and -materialism sometimes appeared in disguised form in the _Encyclopædia_, -but more often in independent writings. The _Encyclopædia_ became the -source of information for everybody. It spread information among all -classes and undermined their reverence for French institutions. The -result was that what had been sacred to the court and the laborer -because it was traditional, now became the object of scorn to all. - -The most profound of the sensationalists of this time was Condillac -(1715–1780),[50] who does not, however, appear to be connected with -the _Encyclopædia_. He published his _Treatise on Sensations_ in 1754, -which reduced Locke’s psychological analysis to a pure sensationalism. -The well-known figurative statue endowed only with the sense of smell -was conceived by him. He introduced Locke’s psychology into France, -whence it was carried into Germany. - -=The Social Enlightenment= (1762–1789). The second period of the -French Enlightenment begins with the publication of Rousseau’s _Contrat -Social_ in 1762 and culminates in the Revolution. The influence of -Rousseau dominates the second period as that of Voltaire dominated the -first. Voltaire had never aimed at a social revolution. His objective -point was to reinstate the understanding, to emancipate the individual -by self-culture and by freedom of thought. He was not historian enough -to see that he could not revolutionize intellectual France without -pulling down the social structure. He did not realize that in striking -at the tyranny of the church he was dealing a fatal blow at the -structure of French society. The literary fencing between Voltaire and -the adroit churchmen might have been amusing, had the issue not been -so serious. But although superficial and vain, Voltaire was downright -in earnest. At one time it seemed as if the intellectual Enlightenment -would work itself out in the church. But the causes of the revolt were -too deeply social, the malady against which Voltaire was aiming was too -vital; and besides, at that moment attention was being directed to the -character of the State itself. - -=Rousseau= (1712–1778).[51] Rousseau began at the point where Voltaire -left off. He was under the influence of Voltaire at the first and -received from Voltaire his original productive impulse. But the -concrete right of individuals, and not their abstract intellectual -freedom, was what appealed to Rousseau. Strict moderation and literary -freedom were too negative, half-hearted, for a reformer of Rousseau’s -type. Public opinion was not to be found in Versailles, as Voltaire -thought, but in the streets of Paris. The Revolution then came to a -head, and we find the schools of Voltaire and Rousseau locking horns. -Voltaire’s theory of moderation was represented in the Constituent -Assembly and the upper and middle classes, while Rousseau’s radicalism -was introduced in the Convention and fully expounded in the sections of -the Commune of Paris which attacked the Convention. History shows how -impossible the aim of each school was, and how the contest had to be -fought over again in the nineteenth century. - -Rousseau lived a wandering and adventurous life, full of hallucinations -and self-created trouble. He made many friends, only to quarrel with -them. He was half insane, and his career inspires both disgust and -admiration. His numerous works fill twenty-two volumes, the most -important ones being two prize essays published in 1750 and 1773, which -represent the negative side of his doctrine; _Héloïse_, 1761; _Emile_, -1762; _Le Contrat Social_, 1762; and his _Confessions_, which contain -his constructive thought. - -Rousseau was at first a contributor to the _Encyclopædia_, but at -heart he cared nothing for the diffusion of knowledge and art. He did -not understand the comprehensive intellectual ambition of Diderot; he -resented the utilitarianism of Helvetius and the materialism of Holbach. -When he wrote his prize essay in 1750, he suddenly perceived how absurd -the intellectual Enlightenment was amid the distressing social state -of France. He turned against both the existing order and the would-be -intellectual reformers. The temporal order of things was to him awry. -Study, knowledge, and cultivation were to him only a gloss over the -deep-lying degradation. Society, as it is constructed, is artificial, -and all organization is a tyranny. God exists, and He is good. Man -was good until civilization and art invaded his simplicity, corrupted -his virtues, and transformed him into a suffering and a sinful being. -Rousseau’s call was that of anarchism. It was a condemnation of the -entire past. Sweep all the so-called civilization away, and level -inequalities. Go back to nature; and in the simplicity of that idyllic -state let children grow up undirected except by their own uncorrupted -instinct,――that “immortal and celestial voice.” - -In an age tired of oppression and corruption Rousseau struck a -sympathetic chord which made the intellectual Enlightenment sound -false. His contemporaries did not inquire into the motives of the mean -lunatic. They did not then see that he was a doctrinaire holding up an -unpractical ideal in contrast with their present state. He alone in all -France was the one to appeal to man’s self-respect. He alone appealed -to the only motives that will result in action,――the human emotions. -His plea was for every Frenchman, and his words for the unfortunate -were given with such eloquence that the fortunate were compelled to -listen. They were a majestic language of wide compassion and sympathy. -He saw in the French monarchy the greatest misery for the greatest -number, and no one of its supporters appeared to the people so generous -and true as he. His influence not only upon his own time but upon -the nineteenth century was extraordinary, and some have said that he -is the greatest modern. At all events he sounded the keynote of our -own civilization, especially in art, literature, and education; for -he showed the fundamental correlation between Nature and the passions. -Rousseau taught a sentimental deism, in which sentiment is the -essential part. - -The Revolution was the natural consummation of the Enlightenment in -France. The immediate issues out of which it grew were the practical -ones of finance, legislation, economics, and policy. The growth in the -physical sciences (beginning 1760), in the study of political science, -in the theory of government, as well as the financial distress of -the French government, the success of the American Revolution, the -advance of the French middle class to a position of power, the foolish -and half-hearted measures of the French statesmen――all these were -factors that at the end brought on the crisis. Yet the words of -Rousseau, falling on fruitful soil, were the real cause. In the years -immediately preceding the Revolution there was a world-wide agitation, -an enthusiasm for nature, an exaltation of man, and a contempt for the -age and for the society then existing. There was a vague presentiment -of impending change, which most people were prepared to welcome. -Thinkers were full of illusions. Even such despots as Frederick the -Great, Catherine of Russia, and Joseph of Austria affected a radicalism, -and Spain, Portugal, and Tuscany, as well as England, France, and -Germany, were moved with great humanitarian sentiments. The debate -was universal as to the condition of the human race. Rousseau was the -eloquent expression of this world-wide movement. - -=The German Enlightenment= (1740–1781). As the Enlightenment in France, -so the Enlightenment in Germany had its introductory period. The -history of Germany from the end of the Thirty Years’ War (1648) to the -publication of Kant’s _Critique_ (1781), or 133 years, is divided into -two periods at the year 1740, when Frederick the Great was crowned. -The period from 1740 to 1781, or forty-one years, is the German -Enlightenment. The period from 1648 to 1740, or ninety-two years, -is introductory to the Enlightenment, and, as in France, a period -of absolutism. - -=The Introductory Period= (1648–1740). =Absolutism.= The spirit of -absolutism, both politically and intellectually, dominated Germany from -the end of the Thirty Years’ War (1648) to the crowning of Frederick -the Great (1740). Absolutism dominated Germany and France a full one -hundred years. There are some differences between the two countries, -however. It began and ended in Germany about thirty-five years later -than in France. Again, in France it grew in splendor from the efforts -of Richelieu and Louis XIII (1610) to the great protective idea of -Louis XIV, who for seventy-two years ruled as absolute political and -intellectual dictator. In Germany, on the other hand, it was a spectre -hovering over a disintegrating and decaying nation once known as the -Holy Roman Empire, but since the Thirty Years’ War only a collection of -states under a nominal central government. The idea of absolutism -prevailed none the less, for within the several states each monarch was -dictator as to the religious, intellectual, and political opinions of -his subjects. - -Politically and socially the Holy Roman Empire was in striking contrast -to the power and splendor of contemporaneous France. The Thirty Years’ -War had left the empire absolutely desolate. The land was impoverished, -the nation disrupted, and the population reduced from seventeen -millions before the war to five millions after the war. The war had -been a generation long and it had degraded the nation. It had settled -nothing. It left the people poor and the princes absolute within their -respective states. The upper classes everywhere, except at Weimar, had -become profligate. The universities were reduced to a position below -what they were in the Renaissance. The prince of each state established -the religion for his state, so that practically no religious liberty -had been gained. Lutherans, Calvinists, and Catholics were exhausted, -but were still antagonistic. There was no moral activity among -the Orthodox; often they set their own immorality up to prove the -absolutism of their respective dogma. The war left Germany politically -prostrate and intellectually stagnant. - -In the years that follow the Thirty Years’ War it is possible to -detect movements that are the beginnings of the Enlightenment. It is -an important point that Germany was resuscitated from sources that -lay within her own civilization. The French Enlightenment and the -intellectual freedom of modern France were due largely to the influence -of foreign ideas from England. The seeds of the German intellectual -revival were developed on her own soil. Those beginnings are (1) the -rise of Prussia; (2) the early German literature; (3) the Pietistic -movement; (4) the transformation of Leibnitz’s rationalism. - -1. The rise of the little electorate of Brandenburg to the powerful -kingdom of Prussia in 1740 was the political basis of the Enlightenment -that followed. No state had suffered more during the Thirty Years’ War. -The entire population was reduced to less than a million, and Berlin, -the capital, had only three hundred citizens. The government was as -harshly absolute as elsewhere. The rights of the citizens were entirely -taken away by the three princes who ruled over Prussia between 1648 and -1740. But a powerful kingdom was built up, with a strong and patriotic -army. It extended its dominions and was a refuge for Protestants, who -fled to it in large numbers. It came to be feared by all the German -states, and in the latter part of this period it had to be reckoned -with in the councils of Europe. Itself an absolutism, it was the -vigorous political body that alone could destroy the traditional -absolutism of the Hapsburgs and the Holy Roman Empire. Puffendorf -declared that the old Empire with its feeble sovereignties was a -monster. It was a monster spectre――a stubborn political idea that -hovered over Europe. Frederick the Great’s mission in the next period -was to destroy it. - -2. The meagre German literature of this early period was also an -important factor in the development of the Enlightenment. Poor, indeed, -it was. Never was German literary production so low. Before the war the -Germans had taken Greek as their model; after the war they copied the -language, manners, and methods of the French of Louis XIV. The early -literature was ruled in the same spirit of absolutism by Opitz until -1700, and after him by Gottsched, especially in the years from 1730 -to 1740. It was for only a small fraction of the people, and was in -the interests of the depraved aristocrats of the courts. Such pedantic -absolutism was the basis of the reaction in the next period of the -literary Enlightenment, which proved the redemption of Germany. - -3. The Pietistic movement was the third factor that went to make up -the German Enlightenment. It was a positive expression of religious -individualism, similar in its position to the Prussian state in its -independent growth in politics. It was a religious movement outside the -church. Its two leaders were Spener (1635–1705) and Francke (1663–1727). -The movement entered Germany from the Netherlands; and the members -were devout and holy men consecrated to good deeds. The Pietists were -not heroic figures like the early Lutherans, but they stood for what -Luther had in his early period taught. They opposed ecclesiastical -formalism, and they proclaimed the need of personal regeneration and -of the universal priesthood. They stood for religious freedom. They -made no onslaught upon the church, but they were content with saving -individuals. Pietism united at first with Rationalism――of which we -shall next speak――against orthodoxy, but when the two had won their -victory they quarreled. Although the Pietistic movement later became -itself conventional, it furnished the ground for the religious freedom -of the Enlightenment. During these hundred years of German religious -absolutism, the Pietists represent the moral activity among religious -bodies. - -4. The chief source of the Enlightenment was the philosophy of -Leibnitz. In turning back to the life of this distinguished German the -reader will remember that he was the “first scientist in two hundred -years,” and that he was the Rationalist who presaged the Enlightenment. -Leibnitz was born in 1646, just two years before the war closed, and -he died in 1716, one year after the death of Louis XIV. He lived during -those unfruitful years after the war and before the Enlightenment; -and his philosophy stands out prominently from the low plane of -the intellectual activity of that time. In 1686 he completed the -construction of his philosophy by introducing the conception of the -individual as a dynamic centre. - -Many German philosophers, about the time of Leibnitz, had later tried -to free philosophy from its technical difficulties and make it readable -for the people as the French Encyclopædia was for the French people. -Among these were Tschirnhausen (1651–1708), Mendelssohn (1729–1786), -and Tetens (1736–1805), but the German Enlightenment for many reasons -did not come about like the French in the popularizing of philosophy. -The philosophy of Leibnitz did reach the people directly, but the -people were stirred through the medium of literature rather than of -philosophy. Leibnitz’s philosophy became the dominant thought only -in the universities and academic circles, and remained so until the -publication of Kant’s _Critique_ in 1781. The Halle professor, Wolff -(1679–1754), developed and transformed it, not to its advantage, into -an absolutism, and under the name of the Leibnitz-Wolffian philosophy -it was the canon for the German schools. Once established in the -universities it remained unchanged there even by the invasion of -French thought that penetrated other German circles. Even Voltaire’s -residence at the court at Berlin (1750) had no influence upon the -Leibnitz-Wolffian philosophy of the Berlin Academy. The dogmatic -absolutism of this philosophy remained impregnable in academic circles -and was the last to be dislodged――and then only by a German. There was -little progress among these Rationalists, once their doctrine had been -cast, except in incorporating in an eclectic fashion the doctrine of -others. - -Wolff systematized the unordered and desultory doctrines of Leibnitz -for the purpose of teaching them logically. This was in 1706, when by -the aid of Leibnitz he obtained the professorship of mathematics at -Halle. He met with instant success. The rationalism of his doctrine -is seen from the title of many of his works, which are _Reasonable -Thoughts on God_, _Reasonable Thoughts on the Powers of the Human -Understanding_, etc. He lectured at Halle until 1723, when he was -expelled by the theological influence. His return to Halle in 1740 was -coincident with the crowning of Frederick the Great and the beginning -of the German Enlightenment. We can note a few general aspects of his -teaching. He employed the German language in his lectures, following -Thomasius, who was the first to do it. Leibnitz had written in letters -and treatises for the few, and had used either Latin or French. Wolff -expanded Leibnitz’s doctrine, broadly and superficially, for a larger -public, in the German tongue. He systematized Leibnitz’s teaching, -and thereby could disseminate it. But in doing this he so toned down -Leibnitz’s leading ideas that they lost all their peculiar force. -For instance, he taught that only the human mind has the power of -representation; and again, that preëstablished harmony applies only -to the relation of the soul and body of the human monad. In general, he -so extended the Leibnitz principle of sufficient reason that it applied -to all departments, and was reduced to the principle of identity. -The world is a huge mechanism designed for divine ends. Rationality -is assumed to be everywhere, and knowledge of its existence is to be -obtained only by deduction from evident principles. The result was -that the philosophy of Leibnitz was reduced to a commonplace and empty -rationalism――a purely deductive affair. Wolff undertook to demonstrate -everything, and to make intelligible what is above reason. The -Wolffian philosophy was a reversion to mediæval scholasticism, since -it solved all problems by proof through the cogency of mathematical and -logical processes. Truth is a matter of definition and classification. -Thus Wolff produced a philosophy that was pedantic and formal, -clear but shallow. It was Leibnitzian with Leibnitz omitted; it was -a thorough-going dogmatism, because no problem was difficult to it; it -was a rationalism, because to it all truth is the deliverance of the -reason and none is derived from experience. - -The Wolffian Rationalism became a factor in the German Enlightenment -on the one hand by combining with Pietism, and on the other through -its translation into the new German literature. In itself the Wolffian -Rationalism was a dogmatism that merely supplanted the dogmatic -scholasticism of Melanchthon and Luther. It lost its absolutism in its -combination with Pietism, and became a personal and individualistic -religion. It also lost its absolutism and became more like the -philosophy of Leibnitz through its translation into the literary -writings of Lessing and Herder; and thus was subordinated to an -incident in individual culture. - -=Summary of the Literary Enlightenment of Germany= (1740–1781). The -German Enlightenment was thus made possible by the political growth -of Prussia, by the development of a meagre literature, by the rise of -Pietism, and by the Wolffian interpretation of Leibnitz’s philosophy. -All these were important features of the century following the Thirty -Years’ War. The year 1740 is the beginning of the German Enlightenment. -It marks the crowning of Frederick the Great, the decline of the -influence of Gottsched in literature, and Wolff’s return to Halle. -The arrival of Voltaire in Berlin (1750) is an important factor in -the rise of the German Enlightenment. The spirit of the Enlightenment -was at its height twenty years later (1760), contemporaneous with the -Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) and with the publication by Lessing in -1759 of his _Letters concerning the most Modern Literature_. In these -_Letters_ Lessing gave the death-blow to Gottschedism, and established -the Enlightenment on a firm basis. This was followed by the Storm and -Stress movement (1773–1787), which brought the Enlightenment proper to -an end. - -1730–1750 Period of Experimentation――Gottsched, the Swiss, the -Anacreonticists, etc. - -1740 The Enlightenment inaugurated――the crowning of Frederick the Great, -the decline of Gottschedism, the return of Wolff to Halle. - -1750 The coming of Voltaire to Berlin. - -1751–1780 Lessing and the Enlightenment. - -1773–1787 Storm and Stress Period.――The Enlightenment proper at an -end.[52] - -1787–1805 Classicism. (Schiller d. 1805). - -1795–1850 (approximately) The Romantic Movement. - -1850– The Realistic Movement. - -=The Political Enlightenment of Germany――Frederick the Great.= -Political changes preceded and did not follow philosophical theories -in the German Enlightenment. Germany was therefore like England -and unlike France in this respect. The coming of Frederick to the -throne of the now powerful Prussia, the reforms that he inaugurated, -the religious toleration that he granted, his recall of Wolff to -Halle, his avowed support of intellectual things, and especially the -Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) were the political groundwork that made -possible the Enlightenment in Germany. Frederick himself is the great -figure in the German Enlightenment, just as Voltaire is in the French. -Frederick accomplished in concrete acts for political Europe what -Voltaire accomplished for ecclesiastical Europe. Voltaire destroyed -the ecclesiastical absolutism of the spiritual power, while Frederick -destroyed the absolutism so long connected with the name of the Holy -Roman Empire and the House of Hapsburg. Before he died, he had freed -the German states from the dominance of Austria, and had given to -the Empire its death-blow. In the Seven Years’ War he had given to -modern Europe an example of a new political ideal in an autocrat who -professed to be the servant of the State. His whole thought was upon -the advancement of his State. He set up the principle of the equality -of his subjects before the law, and the principle of religious and -philosophical liberty. In his external struggles with Austria and in -the internal construction of his kingdom Frederick is the protest of -the Enlightenment against the arbitrary despotism of political Europe. -The example of Frederick was an inspiration to all Germany. Kant calls -the eighteenth century the Age of Frederick the Great. Frederick had -made his subjects feel that they were Prussians, or, as Goethe puts it, -“Fritzche” (Fritz’s men); that the great foe of the German people was -the German Empire as personified by the Austrians and Saxons. When he -had conducted to a successful issue a deadly war of seven years single -handed against the combined force of more than half of Europe,――Austria, -Russia, and France, all representing political absolutism,――he inspired -patriotism not only in his own subjects, but in the people of many -other German states. Reforms were undertaken in Bavaria, Baden, Saxony, -Brunswick, etc., and by Catherine of Russia and Joseph of Austria. - -Furthermore, Frederick himself was personally enlightened; he looked -upon himself as the greatest among those of enlightened intellects. He -had become denationalized by his early training. His father was fond -of what was German, his mother of what was English, and he himself -of what was French. He had studied Bayle, read French philosophy, and -become acquainted with the rationalism of Wolff and the empiricism of -Locke. He was at one time an atheist and materialist; but deism was his -natural attitude of mind, for he emphasized morality above speculation. -Conceiving himself, as the most enlightened, to be the great servant -of the State, he undertook the enlightenment of his people. All Prussia -must be enlightened by him, and therefore no restrictive institutions, -such as guilds and corporations, could be permitted. The best man -should rule, and he was the best man. Since the people are incapable of -looking after themselves, they must be compelled under his benevolent -autocracy to be enlightened, rational, and happy. - -=The Course of the German Enlightenment.= Why did not the movement -become as in France a political revolution? There are three reasons -why it did not: (1) the reforms that the German princes adopted were -wise; (2) Germany was composed of segregated states in which concerted -action was difficult; (3) a new intellectual and æsthetic current was -begun by Lessing, of whom we shall speak. There is no doubt that the -Enlightenment in Germany pointed to the same result as in France. From -1760 to 1780 it looked as if Germany as well as France would witness -a tremendous social upheaval. From 1773 to 1787, Germany was stirred -by the Storm and Stress movement. Frederick himself had pointed to the -English parliamentary government as the “model for our days.” The most -of the German thinkers were at heart republicans,――Klopstock, Schiller, -Kant. Every man in Germany became a little Frederick, and tried to -enlighten those who were inferior to him. The movement extended to the -schoolroom. Secret societies were formed of kindred enlightened souls -to enlighten the world. The most important of these societies was the -Illuminati. The aim of these was to free men from national and civil -ties, from pedantry, intolerance, political and theological slavery. -The human heart is the basis of society, and the only worthy object of -study. The Illuminati included even princes among its members. It was -established in 1776 and prohibited in 1786. There was a distinctive -Storm and Stress literature. This was set in motion by Rousseau’s -_Héloïse_ and _Emile_, which were widely read in Germany. Writers -glorified the individual, called men back to primitive and uncorrupted -nature, denounced civilization, and for twenty years it almost seemed -as if the German Enlightenment had turned from the intellectual -achievements of Lessing, and would follow the sentimental appeal of -Rousseau. Herder was particularly prominent in this movement, also -Goethe and Schiller in their early writings. - -Of the three factors that saved Germany from a political revolution, -perhaps the most potent was the new, fresh, literary ideas of Lessing. -If Frederick is the originator of the German Enlightenment, Lessing -is the savior of it. The Enlightenment in England stopped with the -phenomenalism of Hume, in France with the Revolution, but in Germany it -has in a sense continued even to the present day. The classic period of -Goethe and Schiller, the modern scientific achievements of the Germans, -have their perpetual source in Lessing. He not only gave the death-blow -to the pedantic absolutism of the intellectual past, but he set the -movement upon a permanent intellectual basis, upon which it has stood -against the assaults of sentimentalism for a hundred and fifty years. - -=Lessing.= G. E. Lessing (1729–1781) was not only a sound scholar, -but a polished man of the social world. He was a writer of epigrams, -fables, and comedies, a dramatic and literary critic, a translator -and essayist, a student of philosophy and ecclesiastical history, and -a writer upon art. His _Nathan the Wise_ is, after Goethe’s _Faust_, -the greatest literary production of German thought. With him German -literature begins. He rejected the French models accepted by Gottsched; -he introduced Shakespeare to the Germans; and he surpassed all his -contemporaries in literary and artistic reform, social enlightenment, -and religious emancipation. Lessing and Winckelmann were the first to -spread a love for the past by a critical study of it. Lessing was not -a violent iconoclast like Voltaire, but a discriminating critic. He -said that if Leibnitz had wished for an interpreter, he would not -have chosen Wolff. The new literary writers, Lessing and Herder, in -their insistence upon subjectivity and intuition, rather than Wolff, -were the true interpreters of Leibnitz. Lessing differed from the -Enlightenment in his conception of the present in its continuity with -the past. Herder, too, was interested in development. Lessing pointed -to the perfect models in the past; Herder to the origins of things. -Both believed in an immanent God and the harmony of the universe. -At this time the problems in æsthetics came to light, and with them -the creation of “world literature,” which drew from all historical -thought――from antiquity, the Renaissance, and the Enlightenment. The -Pietists, the Wolffians, and the literary writers agreed in taking the -subjective point for their view of life. Thus Leibnitz appears through -Lessing as a motive power in the German Enlightenment. Lessing’s -doctrine of individuality so transcended that of the Storm and Stress -Period that he was not understood by it. His enlightened individual -suppresses his individuality. But his principles were so fundamental -that the Storm and Stress Period proved to be only an interruption, -and the German Enlightenment was perpetuated. He thus projected himself -beyond the eighteenth century by the instruments of that century. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - KANT[53] - - -=The Convergence of Philosophical Influences in Germany.= The -intellectual thoroughfare from the past into our modern times does -not pass in the eighteenth century through England, nor yet through -France, but by way of Germany. Traditional France ended with the French -political revolution, while the English empirical movement proved its -own inconsistency in the phenomenalism of Hume. In Germany alone, at -the close of the eighteenth century, there was a renewed and brilliant -intellectual life. In its creative productions it has been compared by -the Germans to the Systematic Period of Greek thought (from the death -of Socrates to that of Aristotle). Both periods appeared when the -political fortunes of the respective countries were at their lowest ebb. - -There were six large influences that converged upon this epoch, some of -which we have already noted as beginning even as far back as the period -introductory to the Enlightenment (1648–1740) (see pp. 217 ff.). Some -are later in their origin or come from a foreign source. Let us merely -enumerate them here. - -(1) Pietism, the religious influence that began with Spener (1635) -and swept Germany in the eighteenth century; (2) The sentimentalism -of Rousseau; (3) The empirical psychology of Locke among the younger -Germans; (4) The Rationalism of the Leibnitz-Wolffian philosophy, which -was most powerful in academic circles; (5) The mathematical rigorism of -the nature-philosophy of Newton; (6) The new literary writers in their -insistence upon subjectivity and intuition. - -=The Three Characteristics of German Philosophy.= German philosophy -will be seen to have three characteristics. (1) It is scholastic or -academic. It is the philosophy of the professors of universities. -At the same time it must be said to be the expression of the social -genius of the German people. Napoleon testified to this when he said, -“The English inhabit the sea, the French the land, the Germans the -air.” (2) This German philosophy is mystical. It is profound rather -than external. It is not founded upon external experience, but upon a -questioning of the inner and spiritual life. It is inward, religious, -and spiritual, like the philosophy of Plato. One of the most accurate -interpreters of Kant has pointed out the many similarities between -Kant and Plato (see Paulsen, _Immanuel Kant_). (3) German philosophy -was nevertheless cosmic, or a description of the world. These men -whom we are now to study were not ignorant of the world or of science. -Political life offered them no attractions. The soul of man was -regarded by them as too noble to be engrossed in external things. -As Madame De Staël said of the time, “There was nothing to do save -for him whose concern was with the universe.” Men, however, took the -inner point of view, and regarded all things with reference to it. -The Germans tried to humanize the universe. They looked upon nature as -working out unconsciously those processes which consciously took place -in man. The contemplation of beauty is not that of an external world, -but of the inmost nature of reality. Thus individuality and cosmic -reality are one and the same. Life has a joyful outlook, not because -our tasks are easy, but because our strength is equal to them; for is -not God in us? - -=The Two Periods of German Philosophy.= German philosophy is divided -into two epochs: (1) the period of the formation of the critical theory -of knowledge by Kant; (2) the period of the metaphysical development -of Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Herbart, and Schopenhauer. Kant belongs -both to the Enlightenment and to German idealism. He is the point -of convergence of the intellectual forces that preceded him and the -point of departure of the idealists who followed him. For this reason -historians differ as to the period in which he is to be placed. In one -sense he is the transition from the Enlightenment, in another sense -he is the introduction of German idealism. But in reality he forms -an epoch between the two. Although the dualism, which was always the -background of the philosophy of the Enlightenment, formed too the -background of his thought, although he on the other hand looked upon -his _Critique of Pure Reason_ as only an introduction to a metaphysics, -which he never wrote, nevertheless he occupies a unique place in -drawing up for his time and for the future a new conceptual standard by -which the new problems might be criticised. The problem that Kant set -before himself was epistemological and not one of metaphysics. - -After Kant there appeared a growth of metaphysics. The great -German idealistic systems appeared. At first the Kantian theory -was misunderstood, but at Jena, then the chief intellectual centre -in Germany, there was formed a little group of Kantians under the -leadership of Rheinhold. Jena is near Weimar (see map p. 280), which -was the main literary city of Germany, and the residence of Goethe. -The poetry of Weimar and the philosophy of Jena stimulated each -other. Schiller is a notable example of the influence of Kant upon the -literature of the time. In philosophy Kant was followed by the various -systems of Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Herbart, and Schopenhauer, which -built a metaphysical superstructure upon the Kantian foundation. - -=The Influences upon Kant.= The development of Kant’s thought was -modified by influences from at least five different sources. - -1. _Pietism._ This was the earliest influence upon his life, and -was due to his parents and to F. A. Schultze, the teacher of the -high school of Königsberg. It will be remembered that this ethical -Puritanism was a moral reaction against the formalism of the churches -in the period after the Thirty Years’ War. Kant never lost his -attachment for the Pietists; and his later rigoristic ethical theory, -as well as his own personal life, sprang from his early Pietistic -training. Schiller wrote to Goethe, “There is always something about -Kant, as about Luther, which reminds one of the monk, who has indeed -quitted his cloister, but who can never quite rid himself of its -traces.” - -2. _The Leibnitz-Wolffian Philosophy._ This influence came during his -academic training in the University of Königsberg, which he entered -upon at the age of sixteen years. This was in 1740, the same year in -which Frederick was crowned and Wolff was recalled to Halle,――the time -when the Leibnitz-Wolffian philosophy was at the fullness of control -of Germany. It must not be forgotten that this philosophy remained -dominant in German academic circles until Kant’s own theory supplanted -it in the nineties. Kant was an avowed disciple of the Wolffian school -for the next twenty years (until 1760), and he never shook off the -Wolffian metaphysical dualism. - -3. _The Physics of Newton._ To his university training Kant was -indebted also for his acquaintance with Newton. The antagonism between -the metaphysics of Wolff and the physics of Newton was, at least at the -beginning of Kant’s career, of decisive importance in his development. -One of Kant’s teachers at the university was Martin Knutzen, whose -lectures included philosophy, mathematics, and natural science. Through -personal intercourse with Knutzen, the young Kant was introduced to the -Wolffian philosophy, and also to the Newtonian mathematics and physics. -During his activity as a teacher Kant showed, even into his later -period, a predilection for natural science, especially for physical -geography and anthropology. The same year in which he entered upon his -career as teacher in the University of Königsberg (1755), he published -his celebrated _Theory of the Heavens_, in which he anticipated Laplace -by forty years in the formulation of the nebular hypothesis. - -4. _The Humanitarianism of Rousseau._ Kant got from Rousseau a new -evaluation of man. Kant had the advantage of a prolonged youthful -development. He was well into his thirties when the movement, -begun by Lessing, became a social force in Germany. A new political -consciousness appeared among the German people, due to the influence -of Frederick the Great and to that of the Frenchmen, Voltaire and -Rousseau. Kant was thirty-eight (in 1762) when he read Rousseau’s -_Emile_. Kant had been brought up in the common teaching of the early -part of the Enlightenment to despise the ignorant masses of people. -Through Rousseau he received in words of authority the conception of -the inherent dignity of the individual man. Through this conception -science and speculation came to have a new value to Kant. They were -no longer ends in themselves, but the means for moral development. -The moral in its primacy over the intellectual came to be a permanent -feature in Kant’s doctrine. His early Pietism was confirmed, and -Rousseau replaced Newton in his regard. - -5. _The Skepticism of Hume._ The influence of Hume’s skepticism -was felt by Kant just before his eleven years of silence, when he -became engaged in his construction of his critical problem. But -Hume influenced Kant in a negative way. The classic and oft-quoted -expression of Kant, that Hume awoke him from his “dogmatic slumber,” -refers to the dogmatism of the empirical school to which Hume belonged, -and not to that of the rationalistic school of Wolff. To Kant both -empiricism and rationalism were dogmatic; the one because it assumed -the validity of sensations, the other because it assumed the existence -of innate ideas. Thus Hume effected a reaction in Kant against Hume’s -own doctrine. But in thus reacting from Hume, Kant saw that the answer -was to be found not in the rationalism of Wolff, but in an ideal -conception of space and time. Hume’s influence was the last before Kant -firmly established his theory of knowledge in his _Critique of Pure -Reason_. - -=The Life and Writings of Kant= (1724–1804). The external changes in -the life of Immanuel Kant were the fewest possible. He was born at -Königsberg in 1724; he went to the school of that city and then to its -university, and then acted in the capacity of tutor in families in the -province of Königsberg. He became privat-docent in the university at -the age of thirty-one, and professor of logic and metaphysics at the -age of forty-four. He was called to the University of Halle in 1778, -but he refused to leave Königsberg. In fact, Kant never went outside -the province, and but little outside the city. Nevertheless, in the -eighties he saw himself become the most important figure in Königsberg, -and in the nineties the most important power in German academic circles. -In 1794 he came under the censure of the reactionary government of -Frederick William II and “was obliged to refrain in the future from -all public addresses on religion.” This was the only outer conflict in -his life. In 1804, at the age of eighty, he died. The externals of his -life were from the beginning to the end an undeviating routine,――his -lectures, his daily walk, his dinner with friends, his hours of -reflection upon his great problem. These have been made the subject -of many descriptions.[54] - -The life of Kant is notable because it is the history of an unusual -singleness of devotion to the solution of a speculative problem. His -youthful point of departure was the rationalism of Wolff; his point of -attainment was the _Critique of Pure Reason_. Between these two points -his history was a series of mental reversals. Kant spoke of his life -as divided into two parts at the year 1770; his pre-critical and his -critical periods. At that time there was a change in the form as well -as the content of his writings. His pre-critical writings possess a -graceful, flowing style; his critical works are heavy and artificial in -their structure, and reveal the labor with which his thought tried to -reconcile contending _motifs_. So far as the content of Kant’s thought -is concerned the pre-critical period will be seen to fall into two -subdivisions at the year 1760. Kant’s life may therefore be divided -into three epochs: (1) 1724–1760, the period when he was a Wolffian -rationalist; (2) 1760–1770, the period when he was an empirical skeptic; -(3) 1770–1804, the period when he was a critical epistemologist. - -In the first period he accepted the rationalism of Wolff, but his main -interest, as shown by his writings, was in natural science. He was -inspired by the natural philosophy of Newton, which, in the latter part -of this period, led him to mistrust the metaphysics of Wolff. That is -to say, he began to suspect that the mere logical operation of concepts -by the “pure reason” could not be a statement about things in the real -world. In the next ten years――his second period――he became convinced -that the metaphysics of the rationalists was impossible, and yet that -the metaphysics of the empirical school of the English was equally -absurd. His writings during this time are more strictly devoted to -questions of metaphysics and epistemology. Then came his critical -period. This was inaugurated by his celebrated Dissertation of 1770, -followed by a period of eleven years of literary silence, a silence -broken by the publication of his _Critique of Pure Reason_ in 1781. -Between 1781 and 1790 appeared the more mature works from Kant’s pen. -Among them were the _Critique of Practical Reason_ (1788) and the -_Critique of Judgment_ (1790), formed on the model of the _Critique -of Pure Reason_. Besides these, his minor writings were very numerous, -and one notes an essay by him in the last year of his life. But the -writings of Kant after 1790 treat in the main of the philosophy of law -and conduct, and show themselves to be the writings of his declining -years. - -=The Problem of Kant.= The problem which Kant placed before himself -was that of epistemology. Epistemology is the theory of knowledge, -and Kant set to work to investigate the knowing process. The peculiar -significance of Kant rests upon the fact that out of the various -influences converging upon him and his time he matured a new conception -of the problem and of the method of procedure of philosophy. He was -convinced that the problem of his time was not one of metaphysical -speculation, although he felt the value of such speculation in the -regions of religion and morals. Yet he saw that the metaphysical -rationalism of Wolff had proved itself inadequate because it was -merely the logical operation of concepts, and had not dealt with -real relations. He was equally sure that the empirical metaphysics -of the Englishmen was inadequate because it was never certain of any -truth. Rational metaphysics was logically true, but not real; empirical -metaphysics was real enough, but never true. So Kant determined to find -out the relation between the logical process of thought and the reality -of things. He felt that the first problem in his time to be faced and -settled was the problem of knowledge,――the epistemological problem. -He planned to face later the metaphysical problem, but he delayed this -until too late in his old age. The problem of Kant can be put in the -simple question, What can we know? The metaphysical problem that he -deferred was, What is real? Yet his problem was not nearly so simple as -this statement would seem to make it; for the epistemological problem -which he set himself was complicated by the Wolffian metaphysical -dualism which he always presupposed. Since Kant agreed with the -Wolffian dualism――the theory that a great gulf separates mind and -matter――his query about knowledge was not the simple question, What can -we know? but the longer question, What can we know about the external -world? - -=The Method of Kant.= There is bound up with the epistemological -problem a new method of procedure in solving it. How shall we find -out what we can know? Kant calls his method the critical method. It is -not only a criticism in a general sense, in that it weighs carefully -the conditions of knowledge. It is also criticism in the special -sense of confining itself to a restricted field. Kant pointed out that -two methods may be employed, the dogmatic and the transcendental. He -asserted that the dogmatic method had been employed in the past and had -proved itself fallacious. What is the dogmatic method? All philosophy -was dogmatic to Kant which sought to find out what knowledge is true -by showing how it originated and developed. Dogmatism is no solution; -it is merely a psychological tracing of ideas to their sources. -These sources will be either innate ideas, if we are rationalists, -or sensations, if we are empiricists. _The true method is the -transcendental or critical method._ What is this method? It is a study -of the nature of the reason itself. It is an examination of the “pure -reason” to see if its judgments have in any instance a universality -beyond human experience, and yet are necessary to human experience. -The logic of such judgments must be absolutely reliable; and yet at -the same time the judgments must be applicable to the world of things. -The method being transcendental, such judgments are transcendental; not -because they transcend our experience, but because they are necessary -to experience. The transcendental is not what is chronologically but -what is rationally _prior_. The transcendental is the indispensable -to knowledge. The critical method is the finding of this indispensable -condition. Kant would search the whole field of the reason for this. -Since to Kant thinking, feeling, and willing are the fundamental forms -of the reason, he sought the realm of thought for the transcendental -principles of knowledge, that of the will for the transcendental -principles of morality, that of feeling for the transcendental -principles of beauty. - -=The Threefold World[55] of Kant――Subjective States, -Things-in-Themselves, and Phenomena.= In his search for those -indispensable conditions of knowledge of the external world, Kant -unfolds the threefold character of the realm of human life. To Wolff -the world had been twofold. In other words, Wolff had conceived the -world as dual, in which there was a correspondence, part by part, of -independent reality to the states of consciousness. To Wolff reality is -independent of consciousness, and yet we are conscious of that reality. -Now Kant never gave up entirely the Wolffian dualism, but he came to -see that in such a situation there could be no knowledge. For how can -we be conscious of what is absolutely independent of us? Consequently -Kant plundered the Wolffian worlds of independent realities to build -up an intermediate world,――a world of phenomena. He dissolved the -sharpness of Wolff’s dualism into a world with three divisions; and he -gave to each division a new epistemological value. These were the realm -of the subjective states or the inner consciousness of the individual, -the world of phenomena or the realm of knowledge, and the world of -absolute reality or that of things-in-themselves. The value of the -world of phenomena consists in its being the realm of knowledge. The -other two realms have values of their own, which we shall describe -below. - -Wolff’s twofold world may be thus compared with Kant’s threefold -world:―― - - Wolff. Kant. - - 1. Mind. 1. Subjective states. - 2. Phenomena――the realm of knowledge. - 2. Matter. 3. Things-in-themselves. - -1. The realm of subjective states evidently is not a realm of knowledge. -For it is the realm of intuition and immediate apprehension of the -individual’s own ideas and sensations; and this is not what we mean by -knowledge. This subjective world is that in which I live alone. It is -a realm of which nobody else is conscious, a realm which gives to me -my individuality. The only connecting linkage between my various purely -subjective states is the accidental order of time in which, empirically -or by association, they occur. Animal intelligence possesses only -such sense-perceptions and sensations, and these are modifications of -its subjective consciousness. Such a mental constitution has not the -capacity for knowledge, but only the haphazard association of ideas. -Kant looked upon the content of subjective consciousness as the object -only of psychological investigation. - -2. The realm of things-in-themselves is not to Kant the realm of -knowledge. By things-in-themselves Kant distinctly does not mean -things-for-us, not material bodies, not nature objects. It must be -remembered that Kant has plundered the material realm of the dualist. -The things-in-themselves which are left behind as a residuum lie -outside all sense-perception and so beyond all knowledge. A divine -intelligence might have the things-in-themselves as objects of -knowledge, but not we human beings. The thing-in-itself is the unknown -and unknowable. But if this realm of things-in-themselves is so -absolutely independent of us that we cannot in any way know it, how -can we say that it exists? Kant replies to this: while we cannot say -_what_ a thing-in-itself is, we are obliged to say _that_ it is. For -although beyond even our sense-perception, it stands as a necessary -postulate to perception, as a mere “problem.” Kant also calls -things-in-themselves Noumena, and regards them as “limiting concepts” -to the divine non-sensuous intelligence. Their reality is as little to -be denied as affirmed. - -3. Kant pointed out that between or beside the realm of subjectivity -and that of the things-in-themselves lies the realm of human knowledge, -which we in our every-day speech call physical nature, and to which he -gave the name “the world of phenomena” or “the world of experience.” -The subjective world is apprehended by the individual alone, the world -of things-in-themselves is known by no human being, but the world of -phenomena is the common object of knowledge of humanity. Phenomena are -not things-in-themselves, but things-for-us; they are physical nature, -an interrelated totality for us. They constitute not absolute reality, -but a reality relative to us. Phenomena are experiences in their -relations; such related experiences are objects of knowledge, and in -their thoroughly organized and systematic form they constitute nature. - -Thus the dualism which we ordinarily meet, like the “two world” theory -of Wolff, has many differences from this critical theory of Kant with -its threefold divisions of one world. One of the most important is that -in Kant’s theory the correspondence between states of consciousness -and reality has disappeared. Reality touches consciousness only at -one point,――at that point where sensations arise. Sensations mark -the boundary between unknown reality and conscious life. On the side -of reality all is darkness; on the side of conscious life all is the -creation of our complex synthetic activity. With the boundary line of -sensation as a base, the two realms extend in opposite directions. In -value the realm of our conscious life is only relative; that of reality -or things-in-themselves is absolute. - -=The World of Knowledge.= There is this to be observed about the -threefold realm of Kant: the realm of subjectivity and that of -knowledge together make up our conscious life. One is the realm of -the conscious individual, and the other the realm of the consciousness -of humanity. Kant conceived this further distinction between the two -realms: in a purely subjective state the mind is entirely passive -and its content is without control; in a state of knowing the mind is -actively engaged in collecting and relating its ideas. This is called -by Kant synthesis. - -When Kant was formulating his problem, there gradually came to him -in clearer outline the synthetic nature of the activity of the human -reason. He felt more and more that the secret of the knowing process -was to be explained by its function of combining many experiences into -a unity. This conception of synthesis is what separates the _Critique -of Pure Reason_ from all the previous writings of Kant. Furthermore, -the three books of the _Critique_ are expositions of the different -stages in which mental synthesis completes itself: in (1) perception, -(2) understanding, and (3) reason. The knowing activity of man develops -in these three different forms of synthesis, in which each lower stage -is the content of the higher. - -What, then, is the central factor in knowledge? It is the synthetic -power of the mind. The mind is not merely passively aware of its -sensations as they come _seriatim_, but it actively relates them -and holds them together. The mind is a dynamic agent whose activity -consists in synthesizing in the present moment its experiences of the -past. The human mind is not like a curtain upon which stereopticon -pictures appear and then disappear in turn. It retains its pictures, -although they are no longer being thrown upon the screen. Suppose we -hear the ticking of a clock. Now if we had no synthetic power, all we -should apprehend would be one, one, one,――and so on. But we do have -synthetic power, and we say one, two, three, and so on. We count in -a series in which each term includes the preceding term. Two includes -one, and three includes two, etc. This is knowledge. It is cumulative -experience. The experience of twenty animals, each having one -experience, is not the same as the experience of one man having twenty -experiences. In vain would nature act on man if the mind of man through -memory and imagination did not carry over experiences. So the important -thing is not what happens, but what power the human mind has. Knowledge, -then, to Kant is the unifying of the manifold. - -There are, therefore, two aspects to knowledge; the passive sensations -and the active power of synthesis. Sensations, on the one hand, are the -raw material out of which reason through its various forms creates the -finished fabric of knowledge. Sensations are the content of knowledge. -On the other hand, there is the active unifying power of the reason. -_Knowledge consists of sensations and synthesis in conjunction._ Reason -alone deals with “thought relations” or imaginations, whenever it -tries to treat objects of which sensations are not the raw material. -Sensations alone, however, are only subjective states. The oft-quoted -sayings of Kant, that “Only in experience is the truth,” and that -“Conception without perception is empty, perception without conception -is blind,” refer to the restriction of knowledge to the sense-materials -and to the synthetic function of the reason. - -=The Place of Synthesis in Knowledge.= What position does synthesis -occupy in the total process of knowledge? Is synthesis one of the -factors or elements of knowledge? Is synthesis on the same level -with the sensations, the feelings, the imaginations? No, it is very -different. The synthesis that Kant is describing is not the product -or conclusion from an inference. Kant does not mean by synthesis the -combination of facts as a result, such as a biologist might make in -framing the law of the habits of animals from his observation of them. -The synthesis that Kant is talking about is not so much the result of -combining experiences _as the act of combining them_. The frame of the -unified manifold, the law of its unification, the act of binding the -isolated experiences together is synthesis. Synthesis occupies a higher -level than the elements of knowledge or knowledge itself. Synthesis is -the knowing process rather than the known product. It is constitutive; -it is creative; it conditions experience and puts the material of -experience together. It must not be thought to be a voluntary act of -the mind, which the mind will or will not do, as it pleases. When the -mind acts, it synthesizes. - -Furthermore, the synthetic functioning of all human minds everywhere -is the same. However much their sensations differ, they combine -and orderly arrange their sense-materials in the same ways. The -synthesis of the human mind is the source of the universality belonging -to knowledge; the sensations, the “given,” are the source of the -difference in knowledge. Knowledge is the result of minds that function -in absolutely the same ways; and we should never have knowledge if the -order and linkage of the world depended on the accident of experience. -Take, for example, such laws as those of mathematics or the physical -law of cause. These are the same for everybody. They are universal -laws. The ordinary conception of them as independent principles of -an independent nature world will not account for their necessity for -everybody and their universality. As independent principles they would -differ for different peoples just as sensations differ. In that case we -should have no knowledge. Human beings could not then think about the -same things, nor reason under the same guiding principles. However, we -do think alike, we have the same geometry, the same physical laws, the -same time-estimates; and simply because we function alike synthetically. -Knowledge is thus the common possession of humanity because the -synthetic functioning of the different individual men is identically -the same. - -A very good way to get at Kant’s central principle of synthesis is to -draw this picture. Suppose that besides the race of human beings with -its own peculiar way of ordering its world, there were a race of angels -endowed with its own powers, another of hobgoblins likewise endowed -with its own powers, and so on to x, y, and z races――any number you -please. What would be the situation? In the first place, each one of -the groups would be absolutely isolated from each of the others. No -one would have the power to know even the existence of the others. No -one race would even have anything in common with the others. The world -of each would be different. In the next place each would be trying -to interpret reality, and in doing so, each would construct and order -a world of reality of its own. The members of each race would have a -world in common and the members would know one another. But that is -all. The members of each race would not be able to get outside their -own powers of synthesis. In Holy Writ the home of the angels has been -sometimes described as having no time and space, but this means only -that space and time are aspects of our mental synthesis and not of -theirs. We live in our world of our interpretative construction of -reality, and they in theirs. The same would have to be said of x, -y, and z. None would live in a world of absolute reality. But each -would live in a world made different from all the other worlds by the -differing mental powers of each race. Yet the members of each race -would inhabit a world in common because the individuals of each had -common mental powers. The particular world that human beings inhabit -is called physical nature, whose laws are known as the laws of science. -How can it be _one_ world in which so many millions of different human -beings live? Because these millions of human beings are under the same -fundamental rational laws, and they construct the world in a common -fashion. The laws of nature are, after all, the laws of our own minds. -They are the laws of reason. The laws of nature are not the laws of -absolute reality, but the laws of the human interpretation of reality. -All the linkage of facts, all the law and order of our universe, all -the combination of the variety of objects of knowledge――in a word, -the entire body of science or the world of physical nature is a human -mental synthesis. Does independent absolute reality exist? Yes; but -it exists behind the scenes for us as for the angels. Mental synthesis -is constitutive of the world in which we are actually engaged――mental -synthesis is shot through and through all our experiences. Mental -synthesis is the framework of the universe, and therefore Kant says, -“The world is my representation.” - -=The Judgments Indispensable to Human Knowledge.= It will be seen -from the above discussion that Kant does not believe that an idea or a -sensation taken by itself constitutes knowledge. Knowledge consists of -sensations framed together in a synthesis. That is, ideas must be taken -together with other ideas. This is called in grammar a proposition, -having a subject and a predicate. In logic it is called a judgment. -The only way a human being can express knowledge is in the form of -judgments, but all judgments of human beings are not necessarily -knowledge. - -Judgments are divided by Kant into two large classes,――analytic and -synthetic. The large class of analytic judgments are not expressions -of knowledge. What is an analytic judgment? An analytic judgment merely -expresses in the predicate something that is contained in the usual -meaning of the subject. Such a judgment articulates the meaning of -an idea by emphasizing some of its well-known attributes. Thus we -say, “Gold is yellow.” Such a statement about “gold” does not show -any knowledge. It is called sometimes an explicative statement. It -is tautologous, but not on that account trivial. Let us look then to -synthetic judgments to see if they express knowledge. But first, what -is a synthetic judgment? A synthetic judgment is one in which the -predicate is not contained in the usual meaning of the subject. It is -a statement of something new about the subject in hand. For example, -the judgment, “The watch is yellow” is a synthetic judgment because the -predicate “yellow” is not a necessary part of the meaning of “watch.” -A synthetic judgment therefore brings two ideas together in a new -relation. It thereby enriches knowledge and is the expression of -discovery. The synthetic judgment is often called ampliative. (The -double meaning which Kant gives the term “synthetic” need not confuse -us. Synthesis is used by Kant to mean the framing constitution of -the mind, and also as one of the results of the activity of the mind, -_i. e._ a class of judgments. In the first sense all judgments, both -analytic and synthetic, are expressions of synthesis.) - -Are all synthetic judgments expressions of knowledge? Kant replies -that they certainly are not. He points out that there are two classes -of synthetic judgments: one class he calls _a posteriori_ and the -other _a priori_. By _a posteriori_ he means judgments founded in some -sense-perception, which are particular judgments or judgments that -are inferences from a greater or less induction of sense-perceptions. -For example, if I say, “To-day is warm,” or that “Swans, so far -as I have observed, are white,” I am making a synthetic judgment, -because I am joining two ideas in a new relation, and I am also -making an _a posteriori_ judgment, because it is a statement founded -upon sense-perception. Now Kant rules such judgments out from those -that constitute true knowledge. This would rule out even empirical -generalizations of high probability, such as “The sun rises in the -east.” _A posteriori_ judgments, or those founded on experience, -however large, do not give us knowledge, but merely probability. The -cases upon which such judgments are founded are always limited, and -there may be exceptions beyond our observation. - -The only kind of judgments that are the expression of true knowledge -must, therefore, be synthetic judgments that are _a priori_. That -is to say, they must express some new relation between ideas that -is also universally and necessarily true. By _a priori_ Kant means -the universal and necessary; and, furthermore, he maintains that the -universal and necessary, and nothing else, constitutes knowledge. He -points out that we make such judgments. When we say that the three -angles of a triangle equal two right angles, or that every event has -a cause, we are saying something universal and necessary, something not -founded on experience. No one would admit that there were exceptions -to these propositions. The question, then, that Kant tries to answer -in his _Critique of Pure Reason_ is, How are synthetic judgments _a -priori_ possible? Or since to Kant knowledge consists of synthetic -judgments _a priori_, under what conditions is knowledge possible?[56] - -For the sake of clearness, let us state this problem of Kant in another -way. It is the nature of man to try by mere thinking to discover the -nature of reality. The dogmatic school of Rationalists had attempted, -without calling in experience to its aid, to weave out of pure thought -answers to the questions about God, immortality, and nature. It had -maintained that clear and distinct notions have a reality corresponding -to them, and are therefore real. Judgments formed in this way are -analytic _a priori_; but it is evident that while such analyses of -thought have a cogency for thought, they do not necessarily have -a corresponding reality. On the other hand, conclusions based on -experience have a kind of validity for the real world, but they yield -no certain truth about it. These are synthetic judgments _a posteriori_. -If Hume is right in saying that these are the only judgments dealing -with nature, then we have no certain truth about nature. They give -generalizations that are useful on the whole, but their conclusions -range only from possibility to high probability, and never reach -certainty. Besides (1) conceptual knowledge and (2) “knowledge of -matters of fact,” Kant pointed out that there is a third kind. This -is the only valid kind. This knowledge is based on synthetic judgments -_a priori_. Such knowledge arises independently of experience, _i. e._ -is _a priori_, and yet is valid for experience, _i. e._ is synthetic. -Hume’s statement that such knowledge is synthetic _a posteriori_ is -not accepted by Kant. Kant is, therefore, bound to show how this third -class of synthetic judgments _a priori_ is possible, and how pure -thought can be binding on experience. - -=The Proof of the Validity of Human Knowledge.= If we turn now to -review what we have said about Kant, we find that he undertakes to -solve the problem, _How can we know?_ by a critical study of the -forms of the reason. We have found that the reason is essentially a -synthetic power, and is the framework of the world of phenomena to -which knowledge is limited. Knowledge is the complex thing, consisting -of sensations as its woof and synthesis as its warp. To answer the -question, Under what conditions is knowledge possible? we must study -not sensations, but synthesis in its several forms. If Kant can show -that the mind furnishes the _a priori_, that is, the universal and -necessary forms to knowledge, he thinks he has proved his case. He -has then explained why human knowledge is valid and thus proved that -human knowledge _is_ valid. Now Kant tries to show what the special -_a priori_ forms of knowledge are and in what the validity of such -forms consists. In the first book of the _Critique of Pure Reason_, -the _Æsthetic_, he undertakes to show what the _a priori_ forms of -mathematics are and how they make knowledge valid by being forms of -mental synthesis. In the next part of the _Critique_, the _Analytic_, -he tries to show what the _a priori_ forms of the knowledge of physical -science are and how they make physical science valid and objective. -In the last part, the _Dialectic_, he discusses the _a priori_ forms -of the reason and shows why they have no validity in knowledge. These -are three stages in which the knowing activity develops as three -different forms of synthesis. The stages are perception, understanding, -and reason. Each higher stage has the lower as its content. Finished -knowledge involves perceptions, reproductions in the understanding, -and a recognition of the whole by a thinking subject. Perception, -understanding, and reason are not separate acts, but different levels -of one consciousness. These will be taken up in succession. - -=1. In What does the Validity of Sense-Perception Consist?= Kant points -out: - -(1) Sense-perception has (a) a content of sense qualities, like sound, -color, etc., and (b) the relations of space and time. - -(2) Space and time originally belong to the subject as its forms of -sense-perception, and are not introduced from without by experience. - -(3) By means of space and time _a priori_ knowledge is possible. - -If there is any validity in perceptual knowledge, it depends upon -the constitution of space and time; not upon the character of the -empirical content, or the sensations. The question about the validity -of sense-perception, then, is a question about the reliability of -mathematics. - -There are two elements in sense-perception: a necessary and constant, -and a changing and accidental. Space and time are the constant element. -They are homogeneous, and always one and the same in quality. They are -unities, for there is only one space and one time, and the many spaces -and times are only divisions of this oneness. All the differences in -space and time are due to the relation and movements of bodies, and -are not inherent in space and time themselves. How is this unity and -homogeneity of space and time to be explained? By assuming that space -and time are original and uniform functions of perception, the forms -of perception, the ways of apprehension, the “prehensile organs of our -sensibility.” They are the ways in which we synthesize on the lower -level of consciousness. If they were given in experience, there is no -reason why the several spaces and times should not be intrinsically -different, like different bodies with different qualities. However, -by conceiving them to be mental syntheses in the level of perception, -they explain the universality of the laws of mathematics. They are -the colored spectacles that all human beings wear; or, to use another -figure, they are the mould into which all sensations are run. Being the -unchangeable forms of our sensuous receptivity, they have a validity -for the entire compass of perception. They are universal because one -experience of space and time is valid for all spaces and times; they -are necessary because we cannot think of objects apart from them; they -are perceptual syntheses because they increase knowledge. Of course we -are unconscious of this perceptual synthesis of the sensory elements -in space and time. The process takes place automatically. We can -nevertheless analyze the process after it has taken place, and speak -of the sensations as the materials of knowledge, and the forms of -space and time as the _a priori_ elements. But in actual conscious -experience, sensations never come to us in their rawness. They are -never turned over to the understanding unless they bear the stamp -of space and time. The process of knowledge, therefore, starts with -complex material――complex because it has been synthesized below -consciousness. In other words, perceptions come into the process of -knowledge with two aspects: (1) their permanent and necessary form; -and (2) their accidental and changing content. - -=2. In What does the Validity of the Understanding Consist?= Kant’s -discussion of the synthesis of the understanding is given in the -_Analytic_, the second part of his _Critique_. His treatment of the -understanding is similar to that of perception. The understanding, be -it remembered, is regarded by Kant as the second stage in the process -of a complete synthesis of knowledge. It is synthesis on a higher -level than perception. Indeed, perception is the material which the -understanding synthesizes. As in the _Æsthetic_ Kant seeks to show: -(1) the _a priori_ factors of the understanding and (2) that these _a -priori_ factors give to knowledge its validity. The unifying principle -of perception is the mathematical; but physical nature, which is -the subject-matter of the study of the understanding, is more than -mathematical, more than an aggregate of space and time forms, more than -shapes and motions. Nature exists as a connected system of substances, -causes, etc. Natural science possesses besides its mathematical basis -a number of general _a priori_ principles for the validity of its -conclusions. - -Kant’s task was therefore only begun by showing that perception -possesses the universal and synthetic principles of space and time. -Perception is only the beginning of knowledge. It is not knowledge, but -only subjective consciousness. On the other hand, the understanding is -the faculty of knowledge, and therefore Kant seeks to point out its _a -priori_ or universal elements, and by their presence prove its validity. - -Since the days of Aristotle the general terms used in reasoning -have been called categories. Any class-term or genus may be called a -category. There are certain _summa genera_, the most extensive classes -or classes with the lowest connotation, that have been traditionally -known as categories, because everything that can be affirmed in -a judgment must come under some one or other of them. Aristotle -names ten,――substance, quality, quantity, etc. But these Aristotelian -categories are classes of analytical relations, such as formal logic -treats. They are the classes of the attributes and relations into -which objects may be analyzed. These evidently are not what Kant -is seeking. He is in search of synthetic categories. He is looking -for the synthetic forms of the understanding itself, which transform -perceptions into objects of knowledge. He is not looking merely for -abstract conceptions. For ideas become nature objects only when they -are thought as things with qualities universal to every human mind. -The understanding creates out of the perceptions the objects of thought -which form the nature-world; and the categories of the understanding -are the constitutive principles of such objects. The categories are -the relating forms of synthesis through which objects arise. The -most difficult part of the _Critique_ is called the “Deduction of -the Categories,” in which Kant attempts to derive the synthetic forms -of the understanding from the various kinds of judgment. Kant’s list -is curious but unimportant, and only two of these categories are -useful,――substance and cause. He divides the categories into four -general kinds and enumerates three categories of each of these kinds, -as follows:―― - -Categories of Quantity,――Unity, Plurality, Totality. - -Categories of Quality,――Reality, Negation, Limitation. - -Categories of Relation,――Substance, Cause, Reciprocity. - -Categories of Modality,――Possibility, Existence, Necessity. - -These categories occupy the same position in the understanding -that space and time do in the perception,――they are the _a priori_ -principles. In respect to them the perceptions are the _a posteriori_ -material. The categories are pure, innate, and transcendental. They -are the inner nature of the understanding. Thus the objects of the -understanding contain both _a priori_ and _a posteriori_ factors, and -are syntheses of manifolds. Perception synthesizes sensations, while -the understanding synthesizes perceptions, and states the synthesis in -the form of a judgment. - -Having named the _a priori_ forms of the understanding, how does -Kant show that by their means our knowledge of nature has validity? -Because when the understanding functions, it prescribes these forms -to perception. Impressions would remain vague and formless, if we did -not think them; by means of thought we weld impressions into objects -and give them a coherent reality. This is exactly what is meant by -understanding. If nature were an independent thing and prescribed -laws to the understanding, the laws would never be universal and -necessary. The universality of the laws of nature can be explained -only by supposing that the understanding prescribes its laws to nature, -not to nature as a Thing-in-Itself, but only so far as it appears -in sense-perception. Universal and necessary knowledge of nature -is possible only if the connections and relations of nature are -absolutely identical with the modes of thought. The categories of the -understanding have objective validity, therefore, because the laws of -the understanding are the fundamental laws of nature. The understanding -has given such laws to nature. _A priori_ and therefore universal and -necessary, synthetic and therefore creative, the world consists of -objects under laws of the understanding. There are as many kinds of -natural objects as there are categories of the understanding. - -If we will examine what we call the world of nature, we shall find -that many of its objects have never been perceived. Man has only -partly explored the earth, and there are vast regions in space that -he has never seen. He has never seen the South Pole, and the North -Pole only recently; he has never seen the other side of the moon, and -there are myriads of stars beyond even the reach of his telescope. -These are not perceptible things, and yet they are the objects of -the understanding――objects of knowledge. How is it possible? It would -not be possible if the laws of nature were limited to the empirically -perceived facts. It is possible because the laws of the understanding -are the laws of nature and apply everywhere, whether the thing is -actually perceived or not. The moon must have another side because the -human understanding conceives all substances in this way; the law of -cause and effect obtains beyond the stars, and at the South Pole, even -though they have never been perceived. The world of physical objects, -or in other words the world of objects of the understanding, consists -of both possible and actually perceived objects. If the laws of nature -were prescribed by nature to the mind, then the world of objects would -consist only of actually perceived objects. - -But look at the world of nature a little more closely. It is one whole -world with very many things in it. Why is this the case? Would it -ever be so if our knowledge of the world was simply a reproduction of -what the world presented to us? Of course not. There would be as many -different worlds as there are human beings. The wholeness, the oneness -of our world of many things to many individuals indicates not only that -the understanding is the source of the laws of the world, but also that -the faculties of understanding in all the millions of human beings have -a transcendental unity. Knowledge has therefore a stronger proof of its -validity, since what is knowledge for one human being is knowledge for -all. Every individual man is conscious of the contrast between his own -subjective world and the world of knowledge which he shares with other -men. His own ideas have a movement of their own and have no validity -beyond themselves; the ideas which he shares with others, however, are -valid for all others because these ideas are beyond the control of any -one man. Each individual man has to acknowledge this control of his -knowledge as residing in something beyond himself. The categories of -each man’s understanding coöperate exactly with those of every other -man. The individual man is not actually conscious of this process of -coöperation in experience, but he accepts the objective necessity of it. - -The individual consciousness is not therefore the creator of -the objects of knowledge; rather consciousness in general――the -consciousness of humanity――is the creator. Kant is not a solipsist, -but an idealist. A higher consciousness, a super-conscious Self, must -be assumed to explain the compactness of human knowledge. Kant does -not call this super-conscious Self the “soul” or “spirit,” but the -“I think” or the “transcendental ego,” or by the more clumsy phrase -“the transcendental unity of apperception.” He contrasts it with what -he calls the “empirical ego” on the ground that it is the ego always -identical with itself, rather than the Self at this or that particular -moment. It is the Self as thinker rather than the Self as thought about. -The super-conscious Self is always self-active and never dependent -upon empirical conditions. It must be accepted as the postulate of all -knowledge. It is the universal Self, and through it the categories of -the human understanding become universalized. Just as space and time -are the unifying forms of synthetic consciousness on its lower level; -just as the categories of the understanding are the unifying forms of -the synthetic consciousness on a higher level; so the universal Self -must be postulated to explain the universality of the categories. It is -a postulate only because it, not known in experience, is necessary to -explain the unity of knowledge. This theoretical conception of the Self -by Kant is thus very different from the traditional notion of the soul. - -=Has the Reason by Itself any Validity?= When Kant calls his criticism -the _Critique of Pure Reason_, he uses the term “Reason” in a wide -sense as the whole knowing process. In the _Dialectic_ he treats the -Reason in a narrow sense, as if it were a special faculty like the -perception or understanding. This is, of course, a confusing use of -terms, like his use of the term “Synthesis”; but it should cause no -difficulty provided the two uses are known beforehand. The term “Ideas” -is also used in two senses. In this place it has a special use. While -usually an idea means any thought, here it means the synthetic form of -the special faculty of the reason, just as the categories are the form -of the understanding, and space and time the form of sense-perception. -The synthetic forms of the Reason are the three Ideas, viz., God, the -soul, and the totality of the universe. - -What is the office of this special faculty of the Reason and its -Idea-forms? They represent Kant’s way of stating the natural tendency -of the human mind to get from its knowledge the greatest possible unity -with the greatest possible extension. Consciousness is a synthesis -which is never satisfied in being partial and incomplete. The partial -syntheses of its faculties of perception and understanding do not -satisfy it. Perception and understanding tell us nothing about God, -about the soul, and about the totality of the universe, for these -faculties are fettered to experience. Yet God, the soul, and the -totality of the universe are very important matters. So the Reason -leaps over the boundaries of experience, and thinks it is justified -in poaching in the territory forbidden to knowledge. The Reason is -not content with the partial and relational knowledge of mathematics -and of physical science, but it would deal with the unrelated and the -unconditioned. Indeed, we need only search our own minds to see how -true Kant is to fact. We find that we ourselves are not satisfied with -conditioned things, which must be explained by other conditioned things. -On the contrary, we long to know the absolutely unconditioned, which -alone will explain all conditions. We are forever seeking to make our -synthesis complete, and to render a rational and complete account of -what is nevertheless impossible to our knowledge. - -Now it is evident that the Ideas of the Reason are not indispensable -to knowledge in the sense that the categories of the understanding and -the forms of sense perception are indispensable. Cause, time, and space -enter into all knowledge. Physical and mathematical laws exist as facts, -and need no proof for their existence. Kant asked about them, “How are -synthetic _a priori_ judgments possible?” But concerning the judgments -of the Reason, he asks a different question: not _How_ are they -possible, but _Are_ they possible? - -The Reason and its three Ideas give what Kant calls transcendent -knowledge in distinction from the transcendental knowledge of the -understanding and its categories. By transcendent knowledge he -means that which is beyond the limits of possible experience; while -transcendental knowledge refers to knowledge about the necessary -principles of experience. Kant, however, is willing to acknowledge that -the Ideas of the Reason have a legitimate use. They are “regulative -principles” in that, by showing what our limitations are, they also -show that human knowledge is not the final goal. Their illegitimate -use appears when they make a show of being true knowledge. Both science -and theology will be the gainers when the Ideas are no longer used -illegitimately. Kant says that he has destroyed knowledge of God and -the soul “in order to make room for faith.” - -=The Idea of the Soul.= Rational psychology had taught that the soul -had direct and intuitive knowledge of itself. From the time when -Descartes formulated his famous “_Cogito ergo sum_,” this conception -of self-consciousness has been popular. I can have myself as the direct -object of my own thought. Upon the basis of such assumed intuitive -knowledge that each soul has of itself, the Rationalists had ascribed -the qualities of simplicity, substantiality, spirituality, and -immortality to the soul. - -Kant denies that we have any such self-knowledge. If we turn back to -his definition of knowledge we find it to be a synthesis of a manifold. -Knowledge, to be knowledge, must (1) be based upon sensations, and on -that account (2) consist only of phenomena. The soul is not phenomenal, -but the deepest kind of reality. How can I have knowledge of my -soul? The soul is spiritual and not phenomenal, even according to the -Rationalistic philosophy. Therefore the soul is precluded from being -an object of knowledge. Furthermore the Rationalists’ conception of -the soul as simple and immortal would make it an impossible object of -knowledge. An object of knowledge is not simple, but is the unity of -a manifold. The unifying or synthesizing function is not an object to -itself. Sensations are synthesized by space and time into perceptions; -but space and time are not objects for the sensations. In understanding, -therefore, the “I think,” which synthesizes the perceptions into -judgment, cannot be an object for the understanding. - -Kant points out that we must be careful to distinguish between -the transcendental and the empirical ego. We have referred to this -distinction already. In Kant’s criticism of knowledge he maintained -that there must be postulated a “synthetic unity of apperception,” -if knowledge is possible. But such an ego is only a postulate; we -can have no knowledge of it nor can we say what it is. We know that -the immediacy of experience or the sameness of knowledge from moment -to moment demands this. This is the transcendental ego, a kind of -universal synthetic background. - -But this is different from the empirical ego, which I can know as an -object of experience. The empirical ego is what I can know of myself at -any time――a group of sensations, feelings, or thoughts. Now such groups -change from moment to moment. My knowledge of myself consists only of -my momentary, changing self. This changing self is not the immortal, -simple, and identical soul of which the Rationalists have been speaking. -The empirical self is complex and transitory; it is an object of -knowledge, and it is not therefore the same as the immortal soul. “I -think I” is impossible. “I think me” is possible. To make the “I” an -object is to commit a fallacy. - -=The Idea of the Universe.= The contradiction in reasoning about -matters beyond the test of experience appears sharply with reference to -problems about the world as a totality. The inherent self-contradiction -of the reason attracted Kant’s attention very early with reference -to the problems of infinity. Such self-contradictions were put into -final shape by Kant in the _Critique_ in the four following so-called -antinomies:―― - -(1) The antinomy of creation. Thesis: The world must have a beginning -in time and be inclosed in finite space. Antithesis: The world is -eternal and infinite. - -(2) The antinomy of immortality (or the simple). Thesis: The world is -ultimately divisible into simple parts which cannot be further divided. -Antithesis: The world is composed of parts subject to further division, -and no simple thing exists in the world. - -(3) The antinomy of freedom. Thesis: There is freedom; there are -phenomena that cannot be accounted for by necessity. Antithesis: There -is no freedom, but everything takes place entirely according to the -necessary laws of nature. - -(4) The antinomy of theology. Thesis: There is a necessary being either -as part or as cause of the world. Antithesis: There exists neither -within nor without the world an absolutely necessary being. - -Critics have pointed out that these problems as thus stated by Kant are -not altogether cosmological problems, but include the contradictions of -psychology and theology; that is, all the contradictions of the Reason -when it is used dialectically. They show how both Rationalism and -Empiricism, as metaphysical theories, are in their nature contradictory. -When the universe is treated as an object of knowledge, contradictory -propositions can be maintained. The contradictories are both proved -and refuted. In respect to the first two antinomies, both theses and -antitheses are false; in respect to the last two, both theses and -antitheses may be true, if they refer to different worlds. If the Ideas -are applied only to the world of phenomena, they involve inexplicable -contradiction. The Idea of free will and unconditioned being may apply -to the world of Noumena; while the Idea of necessity and conditioned -being may apply to the world of phenomena. - -=The Idea of God.= The Idea of the soul involves us in a -paralogism, the Idea of the universe as a whole involves us in -inextricable difficulties and contradictions; the Idea of God cannot be -demonstrated. Kant does not deny that God exists. He merely maintains -that we cannot make God an object of knowledge. The Idea of God is to -Kant the expression of the need of the Reason for a perfect unity. - -In one of his earlier writings Kant had constructed a conception of -God, which is the same as appears in the _Critique_. God, purely as -a conception, is constructed by Kant as the sum total of reality, the -_ens realissimum_, who so includes all finite qualities in Himself that -they do not limit Him. He is the primal cause of the possibility of -all being. Now, can such an Idea have objective validity? No; the Idea -of a sum total of all that is conceivable is not an object of possible -experience. Only particular things or phenomena are realities for -us. God as the transcending total of particular things can have only -a conceptual reality and a validity for thought. The total has the -reality that any idea has. This is Kant’s general criticism of the -dialectic Idea of God. - -But the general conception of God had played so important a part in -traditional philosophy that Kant felt it necessary to examine the three -important intellectual proofs for His existence in order to show their -falsity. - -He takes up first _the ontological proof_ of God’s existence, which -originated with St. Anselm and had been accepted by the Rationalists. -The Idea of God is the idea of a perfect being. A being would not be -perfect who did not exist. Therefore the Idea of a perfect being must -include the quality “existence” among its predicates. The essence -of God must involve His existence, because the unreality of the _ens -realissimum_ cannot be thought. Kant replies thus: “Being is no real -predicate.” It is not a quality like love, power, or goodness, for it -adds nothing to the content of the subject. “A hundred dollars contains -no more content than a hundred possible or conceptual dollars.” We -cannot reason from the concept of the actual to its existence. The only -test of actuality is perception. - -_The cosmological proof_, which Kant examines next, is an argument -from the existence of contingent phenomena to the existence of an -unconditioned reality. There must be some uncaused cause of existing -caused phenomena. Kant’s reply is this: Cause has no meaning if it -is applied beyond the bounds of experience. Within experience all -causes are the results of causes, and therefore an uncaused cause is a -contradiction in terms. Every existing thing is contingent. A necessary -being can be only a thought, and would not be powerful. It would not be -as powerful as a very great finite being which had existence. - -_The physico-teleological argument_ comes next under Kant’s criticism. -This argument is based upon the inference that intelligent design found -in nature implies an intelligent designer of nature. Kant replies as -follows: Even granting that the world exhibits the design of beauty, -goodness, and purpose in its construction, such a beautiful, good, and -purposeful world would only prove the existence of an architect and -not the existence of a creator. Kant points out, however, that this -proof is the oldest, clearest, and the most popular; and he thinks it -deserves to be treated with respect on that account. The wonder and -magnificence of nature must free man from the oppression of any subtle -argument against the significance of nature. Nevertheless Kant feels -that this proof lacks intellectual cogency; for it is possible that -nature is freely acting and has power within itself. - -The conclusion of the _Dialectic_, in which the Reason attempts through -its Ideas to soar beyond experience, is that such speculation has never -added to our knowledge. Mere conceptual thought cannot be knowledge of -the reality of the soul, God, and the world. Still, the Ideas of the -reason are an integral part of the human mind, and they must have their -purpose. They cannot be verified by experience, in which alone is truth, -but they can regulate experience. They are “regulative Ideas” in that -our experience is better governed if we act as if there were a soul, -as if God existed, and as if the world were a totality of related -things. Moreover, while speculation cannot prove the existence of God, -the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will, atheistic -speculation is unable to prove the contrary of all these propositions. -The Ideas of the Reason clear the way for faith based on morality. - -=Conclusion.= The _Critique of Pure Reason_ is what its name -implies,――a criticism of our conscious powers. It points out the limits -and extent of human knowledge. In one sense, it is constructive; for -it establishes against skepticism the conclusion that knowledge has a -validity within its own limits. In another sense, it is destructive; -for it shows against dogmatism how futile our intellectual striving is -to explore many regions that have been considered the proper realm of -knowledge. No knowledge is possible that is transcendent――no knowledge -beyond the limits of experience. Experience ties our mental powers to -itself. Experience is the boundary of the understanding. Reality, the -Things-in-Themselves, are unknown and unknowable. But transcendental -knowledge is possible. Within experience there are the transcendental -factors that on the one hand transform sensations into phenomena, and -on the other give to these phenomena a validity for all mankind. These -transcendental factors make knowledge reliable, but they add not one -whit to its content. On account of these transcendental factors we -can be rational with one another and members of one world of humanity. -The value of knowledge is not lessened, but is defined. Our world of -phenomenal existence is now accurately assessed as a world of relative -reality. It is placed in its proper perspective. It is seen as our own -_interpretation_ of what is really real. This is very important; for -although the restricted form of our mental powers withholds us from -knowing reality, we may nevertheless think it. The pure intellection -of reality will be of value, if in some other way its contents can be -assured. Kant now points out that this assurance is found in the moral -will. - -=The Problem of the Critique of Practical Reason: The Ethics of Kant.= -“Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration -and awe, the oftener and the longer we reflect upon them: the starry -heavens above and the moral law within.” In this classic sentence -Kant showed that he had no desire to humiliate the theoretical -reason, which is the understanding. He was merely assigning it to its -place among the powers of man, in order that it might do its proper -work more efficiently. The world of morality and the starry heaven -impressed Kant equally. Kant would not have the understanding chasing -will-o’-the-wisps. After his criticism of the understanding he turned -to the will, or as he calls it the practical reason, and criticized -its functions and scope. This ethical teaching of Kant appears in his -_Metaphysic of Morality_ and in the _Critique of Practical Reason_. -His early Pietistic education, his reading of Rousseau, his study -of the English moralists, influenced his theory of morals; while -his investigations into the history of civilization, his theoretical -philosophy, and his independent analysis of the ethical feeling marked -the route which his ethical development took. The world of morality -to Kant has primacy. In his theory it is the real world, for compared -to it the world of scientific phenomena, the world of the theoretical -reason, is relative. - -The central idea in Kant’s theory of morals is that rational -spontaneity is exactly the same as freedom. This contrasts his -theory with Hedonism. The value of man’s life depends on what he does -spontaneously, not on what happens to him. This idea of freedom is the -central thought in all Kant’s discussions of society. In his theory -of government the republic is to be preferred to the monarchy, because -of the opportunity to its citizens of spontaneous freedom; in religion -the true church is composed of free beings worshiping God freely; in -education self-activity is the sole principle of growth. Ethics is -a system of the pure rational laws of freedom, just as science is a -system of the pure rational laws of nature. If ethics has real validity -its laws must be, as in science, _a priori_ or derived from the reason -itself, and synthetic or applicable to experience everywhere. If the -moral law be valid it must be indifferent as to its content, and yet -valid for all content irrespectively. The source of the principle -of morals is thus the same as that of science: it is _a priori_. The -principle of morals is universal in its application to experience, -just as the _a priori_ synthesis of knowledge is. However, just at that -point the difference is to be seen between the foundation of science -and that of morals――between the reason as pure and the reason as -practical. Reason in the form of knowledge is restricted to experience; -but reason in the form of the will, while applicable to experience, -is not restricted to experience. If the understanding is without the -content of experience, it is empty and useless. The understanding must -always be a synthesis of a manifold. On the other hand, the practical -reason needs no content. It is sufficient in itself. It need not be -obeyed anywhere nor have any concrete content in the phenomenal world. -It has no reference to what is but to what _ought to be_. The world -of morality and the world of phenomena are different worlds. The world -of morality is absolute reality, while the world of knowledge is only -relative. The world of morality is the unconditioned, while that of -knowledge is conditioned by experience. Morality applies not only -to human beings, but to all rational beings, if any other rational -beings exist. Knowledge, however, belongs to human beings alone. The -moral law has not its home in the empirical, but in the transcendent, -intelligible world, which to knowledge would be the world of -Things-in-Themselves. - -=The Moral Law and the Two Questions concerning It.= The questions -of the _Critique of Practical Reason_ are the same as those of the -_Dialectic_: (1) Is there any _a priori_ synthesis? This is not the -question of the _Analytic_, which is, How is an _a priori_ synthesis -possible? (2) Can the human being be moral and still be a part of the -world of phenomena and necessity? We shall now comment on the first of -these problems. If the will has validity, it must be the expression of -some universal and necessary principle. Can we find any such _a priori_ -principle in our consciousness? - -1. _The First Question concerning the Moral Law._ If we search our -consciousness, we shall find that there are two classes of incentives -to action. The first are called the inclinations, or perhaps better -the impulses. We may will because we desire to gain something, of use, -pleasure, perfection, etc. Such an act of will is dependent upon the -object that arouses it. Such an act of will would not be an example -for any one else; for the circumstances that called it forth would be -likely to be different in each case. For example, there is no consensus -as to pleasure among individual men; and what is pleasant to one -is unpleasant to another. The same is true about objects of use and -ambition. In all these matters judgment does not help us in making our -selection, for people who are the most discriminating often are the -most unhappy and useless. All these things are indeed goods, but they -are goods for the moment――goods that are dependent on something else, -and not goods in themselves. They are legitimate ends enough, but they -are so transitory that they cannot be valid. It is evident that when -the will is governed by inclination, it is governed by an empirical -(_a posteriori_), and not by a universal and necessary (_a priori_) -principle. Such empirical principles are called by Kant hypothetical -imperatives. - -Let us look to the reason itself to see if the principle of its -practice lies there; for it is certain that we shall not find the -principle of universal validity for our will among our impulses. -The reason is a spontaneous synthesis. It is a fact that any one -may verify who will search his consciousness――that man may will from -reason. The will may be impelled from within, and need not be compelled -from without. The will may be an imperative in itself, proclaiming -its right because it is reasonable, justifying itself because it is -reasonable, functioning because it is the function of reason. Then -is the will the expression of reason. It is the reason in practice. -The will is unconditioned and free because it is the unconditioned -reason acting. It is then autonomous. It has then validity because the -reason is universal and necessary. This kind of willing Kant calls the -categorical imperative. It is the moral law. It is a law unto itself, -and it is the only basis for morality because it is the universally -valid reason. - -The categorical imperative is unique――there is nothing like it in -human nature. It is the one kind of willing that has absolute validity; -and that is because it is unique in having itself for its own end. The -conscience may be said to be its expression in the individual. Kant -formulates the valid command of the moral law as, “Act as if the maxim -from which you act were to become through your will a universal law -of nature.” The various maxims of morality, like “Thou shalt not lie,” -occupy the same position to the will that the categories do to the -understanding. They are the forms of the moral will. Actions should -proceed from maxims rather than from impulses, and the moral maxims are -adapted for all beings who act rationally. A specific act may become -good because the moral law, that inspires it, is good. Nevertheless -“nothing can possibly be conceived in the world or even out of it, -which can be called good without qualification, except a good will.” -The virtues or the gifts of fortune may be good and desirable; they -may also be evil and mischievous, if they are not the expression of the -moral will. - -2. _The Second Question concerning the Moral Law._ This leads us to -the answer to the second question, How can such a purely necessary and -universal principle be effective in human life? Of what service to man -is a principle so formal that if the inclinations coöperate with it, -the act is no longer moral? The moral law is not only transcendental, -but it is transcendent, for it does not have experience as its content. -It is its own content. It is independent of all experience in three -ways: (1) In origin, it contains only a formal principle; (2) In -content, it contains only a formal principle; (3) In validity, it is -not concerned as to whether it is obeyed or not; it declares what ought -to be, even if what ought to be is never done. The question always -arises about Kant’s ethics, Of what service can such a remote and -formal principle be? Morality takes place in the world of experience; -and here is Kant’s principle of morality existing in the world of -unconditioned reality. Of the usefulness of such a principle Kant’s -explanation is not fully satisfactory. His ethics is fundamentally a -rigorism, from which he is unable to escape. Duty and inclination are -in antagonism. Only those acts of will are moral which are performed -solely from the sense of duty. In themselves the natural inclinations -are indifferent; when they oppose the moral will, they become bad; only -when they are inspired by the moral will are they of ethical service. -Moral action is therefore narrowed to that in which the imperative of -duty is consciously paramount. - - “The friends whom I love, I gladly would serve, but to this - inclination incites me; - And so I am forced from virtue to swerve, since my act through - affection delights me. - The friends, whom thou lovest, thou must first seek to scorn, - for to no other way can I guide thee; - ’Tis alone with disgust thou canst rightly perform the acts to - which duty would lead thee.”[57] - -=The Moral Postulates.= Kant’s ethical theory points away from the -phenomenal world rather than toward it. To be sure, the natural -inclinations take the color of the moral law when they are inspired -by it; but the moral law tells us of the world of reality rather than -of the world of phenomena. The moral law shows to man that he is more -a resident of the world of reality than of that of phenomena. Man’s -nature is dual. Of its two sides――the theoretical and the moral――the -moral is primary. Fundamentally man is a willing agent rather than -a thinking being. He is a phenomenal being, bound to the laws of -natural necessity; but he is also a real unconditioned being, because -the unconditioned reason is his real self. What was implicated in -the _Critique of Pure Reason_ becomes explicit in the _Critique of -Practical Reason_. The understanding hints at what the will makes -plain. Human knowledge is a mixture of transcendental understanding and -empirical sensations. God’s knowledge would be pure understanding; the -knowledge of the brutes is pure sensations. Human morality, however, -contains a dualism; for the practical morality of man consists of -the formal moral law inspiring the sensibilities although not heeding -them. The will as pure reason is the activity of God; the will as pure -impulses is the activity of brutes. But the true realm of man is this -world of reason in which he is one with God, although he is at the same -time hampered by being part of the world of phenomena. - -=1. The Postulate of Freedom.= The unconditioned moral law is the -basis of freedom for which all scientific knowledge seeks in vain. An -unconditioned will is a free will. The will based upon the reason is -based upon itself and is therefore free. The consciousness of the moral -law within us implies freedom in its exercise. The “I ought” implies -“I can.” We can have no knowledge of freedom, for in the eye of the -understanding only causal necessity rules. But the reason commands -as well as knows. It states what ought to be as well as what is. Its -mandate implies freedom, as its knowledge states existence. When we -will, we act as if we were free, and our freedom is a postulate which -cannot be proved to the understanding. Freedom is not an object of -knowledge, but an act of faith. Freedom as a postulate is the condition -of morality, and the primacy of the will over the pure reason is shown -in the fact that it can guarantee what the understanding cannot prove. - -=2. The Postulate of the Immortality of the Soul.= The goal of the -inclinations is happiness. The goal of the will is virtue. There is -no relation or correspondence between the two in this world. A man -may be happy and still not virtuous; he may be virtuous and not happy. -Since a man belongs to both the world of free spirits and the world of -necessity, he is thwarted in reaching for his highest good in this life. -His highest good is the union of virtue and happiness. If this is to be -attained, another life must be guaranteed. Yet this is only a postulate -and not a proof. When man wills, he wills as if he were an immortal -being. - -=3. The Postulate of the Existence of God.= Faith in reaching forward -must postulate God, as alone able to vouchsafe future harmony between -goodness and happiness and alone able to distribute justly the rewards -and punishments that are so disproportionate in this world. When I -will, I will _as if_ God existed. When I will, I create by my willing -my freedom, my immortality, and God’s existence. But because my will is -an unconditioned law of my real being, my faith in these things is well -founded.[58] - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE GERMAN IDEALISTS - - -=Idealism after Kant.=[59] Kant’s criticism had been a fine dissection -of the processes of knowledge. He had laid scientific knowledge open -and separated it into its parts. In doing this he had acted in the -spirit of his time, which had been inaugurated by Lessing. His doctrine -became the point of departure of many differing systems. A modern -German professor in the University of Berlin has been wont to say, -“There are ten interpretations of Kant’s _Critique_, which are the ten -kinds of philosophy at the present time.” The incoherence of Kant’s -philosophy made it famous. He represented the first stage of a social -movement; and like all social movements the world over, the first -stage was critical, self-inconsistent, and destructive of tradition. -The second stage is the one upon which we now enter, and we shall -find it to be reconstructive along several lines. Criticism is always -an inducement to new systematization. In Germany, after Kant, there -was naturally, therefore, a great systematic movement which its -intellectually virile and many-sided life was ready to express. Culture -and philosophy went hand in hand. Jena was the centre of Kantianism and -was in close proximity to Weimar, the centre of German culture. - -At the time that the philosophy of Kant became popular, the teaching -of Spinoza was resurrected from its long sleep and introduced into -Germany. Kant was the “all-crushing” critic; Spinoza was the dogmatic -mystic. Their opposition did not amount to a contradiction, but was of -the correlative sort. Kant and Spinoza became the two intellectual foci -about which revolved the thought of the generation after Kant. All the -succeeding philosophers show Kant’s influence upon them, for they all -accept his epistemology. They show the influence of Spinoza in varying -degrees. - -The philosophers whom we shall now meet may be divided into groups. -The first group consists of Rheinhold, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. -These took the lead in destroying the Kantian conception of the -thing-in-itself and in constructing a pure idealism. The second -group consists of Herbart and Schopenhauer. These tried in different -ways to develop a metaphysics of the thing-in-itself. A third group -consisted of the old Wolffian rationalistic school, which was, however, -unsuccessful in its opposition to the spread of the doctrines of -Kant and Spinoza. A summary of the leaders of the German thought -of this time would not be complete without mention, lastly, of -the miscellaneous group of literary Romanticists, whose writings -partook of the philosophical spirit. The influence of Spinoza is -especially prominent in this group. Jean Paul Richter (1763–1825) -was the forerunner of this movement, and it included the names of -Tieck, Wackenroder, the two Schlegels, Novalis, the two Romantic -women,――Dorothea and Caroline,――Schiller, and Goethe. The poet Schiller -did much to popularize Kant’s æsthetic and moral doctrines. - - Illustration: - MAP SHOWING THE UNIVERSITY TOWNS - AND OTHER IMPORTANT PLACES CONNECTED WITH THE GERMAN IDEALISTS - -=Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel.= This group of disciples of Kant can -be understood sympathetically only in the light of their age. They -were not philosophical adventurers, otherwise the great representative -of the age, Goethe, would not have associated with Schelling and Hegel -on equal terms. They stood for the revulsion of the period against -all external systems, and for the realization of a spiritual realm of -free spirits. They sought not a factitious and imaginary condition, -but tried rather to discover the essentials of the spiritual life. -They would reclaim reality spiritually, and their only defect was in -their haste in carrying out their principles. Fichte, Schelling, and -Hegel are sharers in one common movement. They tried systematically to -present the evolution of the world as an unbroken evolution of thought. -They went back to Kant, but they were bolder than he. They sought to -transcend the limitations of thought which he had laid down. They would -set thought free, and, gazing in upon their own spirits, they would -find there the whole infinite universe. The spiritual realm seemed to -them to be wider than any one had supposed. It was a self-governing -realm, quite different from the world of matter. History to them is -cosmic and develops under one law of progression. It is an upward -movement of assertions, negations, and syntheses. Life is cosmic -spirituality. For Fichte the spirit is a cosmic battle for moral ends; -for Schelling the spirit is a cosmic artistic construction, which -transforms the external and internal worlds into a work of living art; -for Hegel the cosmic spirit unfolds in a strict and rigorous logic, -whose consummation is thought of thought. But while Fichte, Schelling, -and Hegel look at the world each in his own way, they are members of -one common movement toward spiritual freedom, and toward the -reëstablishment of metaphysics. - -=The Life and Writings of Fichte= (1762–1814).[60] Johann Gottlieb -Fichte was the most notable of the immediate disciples of Kant. In -contrast with the undisturbed and uneventful scholastic retirement of -his master, Fichte’s life looms up as a series of conflicts, sometimes -with extreme poverty and sometimes with hostile forces created by -his own stubborn and irascible disposition. Fichte’s external life -was throughout one of curious contrasts, both of tragedy and romance. -His love for the moral and theological appears in his early youth in -his voluntary self-denial and in his sermons to the geese which he -was herding. Again, he made preparation to become a preacher, but his -intellectual training in the university drove him to abandon it. He -became a necessitarian and tried to square his life with his philosophy, -although it weighed his heart down. Then came the so-called “Atheistic -Controversy” when he was professor at Jena, and his defiance of the -authorities and his dismissal. In the tumultuous days at Berlin he -turned his metaphysics into patriotic appeals, and would have joined -the army, but his death intervened. The inner development of Fichte, -too, was different from that of Kant. Kant’s inner development was -coincident with his long life. Fichte, on the other hand, at the age -of twenty-eight had read and accepted Kant’s philosophy, and four years -later had created his own. This was only slightly modified in his later -years in the direction of the pantheism of Spinoza. Kant’s life was -apart from the political current of his time, while his doctrine became -fundamental for all future philosophy. Fichte’s life and philosophy -were more expressive of his time, but less lasting in their influence. -Fichte is the philosophic preacher to his time; Kant is the instructor -of all time. - -Fichte’s life may be divided into four periods, which are marked by -certain external events. - -1. _His Education_ (1762–1790). He was the son of a poor ribbon-maker. -As a boy he worked for his father, and again at the equally humble -employment of herding geese. It was during this latter occupation -that his wonderful memory attracted the attention of a philanthropic -nobleman, who gave him means for an education. Fichte studied theology, -philosophy, and philology at Leipsic and Jena; but he had to face -extreme poverty again upon the death of his benefactor. In 1788 he got -a position as tutor in Zurich, and here he met Pestalozzi, Lavater, -and his future wife, a niece of the poet, Klopstock. During this period -his philosophy was a necessitarianism, which he had evolved from the -theology in which he was trained and his reading of certain books on -Spinoza. - -2. _Discipleship of Kant_ (1790–1794). Fichte returned from Zurich -to Leipsic, and in the capacity of tutor in philosophy he assisted a -young man in the reading of Kant’s _Critique_. He was at once converted -heart and soul to the Kantian doctrine. In 1791 he called on Kant at -Königsberg and submitted to Kant his _Critique of Revelation_. The next -year he published this work, and by some fortunate accident his name as -author was omitted from the title-page. The work was attributed to Kant, -and was widely read as a masterpiece by Kant. Kant had to correct the -mistake, which, however, made the real author, Fichte, famous. So he -returned to Zurich in 1793 to marry Fräulein Rahn, who was herself now -in comfortable circumstances. - -3. _His Life at Jena_ (1794–1799). The year 1794 was another -milestone in the biography of Fichte. In this year he was called to -Jena, then the principal university of Germany, to succeed Rheinhold. -In this year he published his philosophy in his best known work, the -_Wissenschaftslehre_. He remained at Jena only five years. At first his -popularity exceeded that of the popular Rheinhold, but he soon filled -his life with controversies. He quarreled with the students and the -clergy, and in 1799 the so-called “Atheistic Controversy” arose, in -which charges were brought against his teaching as atheism. Brooking no -criticism either of his teaching or of his official position, he defied -the authorities of the university and was dismissed. - -4. _His Life at Berlin_ (1799–1814). In 1799 Fichte went to Berlin to -live. At first he had no academic affiliations, but he found a large -and sympathetic public, to whom he lectured. He was warmly received by -the circle of Romanticists,――the Schlegels, Tieck, and Schleiermacher. -His philosophical system got little development; but the influence -of Spinoza appeared in his teaching. He lectured upon the ethical and -religious aspects of his philosophy, and upon political and social -subjects. In 1808 he delivered his famous _Addresses to the German -People_. In 1810 the University of Berlin was founded and he was called -to the chair of philosophy, but he was connected with the university -only two years. For in 1812 came the call to arms, and Fichte was with -difficulty dissuaded from enlisting. He remained in Berlin and preached -to the soldiers in camp. His wife volunteered as hospital nurse and -contracted a fever, from which she recovered. Fichte, however, who -nursed her through her sickness, died of the disease in 1814. - -=The Influences upon Fichte’s Teaching.= Any estimate of the -influences upon Fichte would be distorted that did not recognize the -calibre of the man himself. Fichte was essentially a puritan reformer. -He was impetuous and life-loving, but withal a simple-minded man. All -the philosophical influences which he was capable of feeling would -naturally be turned by him into ethical and religious sermons to reach -the life of men. He must be thought of as the crusader armed with -abstract truths, which he wields with a giant’s strength for the moral -uplift of man. - -It was natural then that the two principal influences upon Fichte’s -doctrine should be Spinoza and Kant. To be sure, such writers as -Lessing, Rousseau, and Pestalozzi furnished him much material in his -early years, and the Romanticists in his later years. His wife, Johanna -Rahn, was also a source of power to him, and through her influence -after their marriage his aim became clearer and his character lost much -of its harshness. But the two great influences upon Fichte were the -two great philosophical forces of this time, Spinoza and Kant. Fichte’s -philosophy has been described as “Spinoza in terms of Kant,” and also -as “an inverted or idealistic Spinozism.” The influence of Spinoza upon -Fichte’s thought is seen at both ends of his life. At the beginning he -was an amateurish Spinozist. He found that the theological training of -his boyhood was a necessitarianism like Spinozism. He lost his faith -in Christianity, and he was unhappy because he found Spinoza’s doctrine -of necessity was intolerable and yet unanswerable. Then he read Kant -and found a solution of his difficulty without having to change the -doctrine of Spinoza. For Kant had placed behind the necessitated world -the free spirit. In the last period of Fichte’s life the influence of -the mystical side of Spinozism appeared, through Fichte’s intercourse -with the Romanticists in Berlin. - -=Why We Philosophize.= To Fichte philosophy was distinctly a personal -problem, and we feel in all his words that he is wrestling with his own -nature. He found in his mind two very different classes of ideas, and -he was certain that philosophical problems arise from their antagonism. -On the one hand there are the ideas about the world of physical nature, -which are only our experiences under the law of necessity. On the -other hand there are the ideas of the individual consciousness, which -are contingent and voluntary. Which of these two classes of ideas is -primal? Fichte felt that all philosophical curiosity arose from the -contrast of these two classes; the solution of philosophy and the -satisfaction of our philosophical curiosity would be reached only by -the reduction of one class to the other. Fichte calls the philosopher -a dogmatist who seeks to reduce voluntary ideas, which compose -our individual consciousness, to the necessitated series. Spinoza -sought to do this, and the philosophy of Spinoza depressed Fichte as -intolerable. But there is the alternative to the philosopher to explain -the necessitated series by voluntary consciousness. This is idealism. -The moment a man begins to reflect, he must choose between dogmatism, -_i. e._ necessitarianism, and idealism. He is always confronted by an -Either-Or, a choice between freedom and necessity. - -=The Moral Awakening.= In his early life Fichte saw to his despair no -escape from the philosophy of necessity. When he read the _Critique of -Pure Reason_ a great light came to him. He flung himself immediately -upon the side of idealism. He saw that necessitated events were -phenomena, and therefore the creations of consciousness. Consciousness -cannot be the slave of necessitated events. Kant’s philosophy was to -Fichte a work of art of the free spirit. The world cannot contain man -and compel him. Man may be oppressed by the world, but he can see that -such oppression is not real. In his _Vocation of Man_ (1800) he gave -in autobiographical terms the story of the awakening and development -of the individual mind. At first one is overwhelmed by the sight of -the necessitated events of the world. Next he comes to believe that -all events are mere appearances, and he is weighed down by the still -greater despair that no reality whatever exists. Finally he finds the -rock of hope amid the sea of appearances. He finds an ultimate and -irreducible fact in the categorical imperative of duty. “Thou must” -is above necessity, above the phenomena that are always reducible to -other phenomena. Duty means the freedom of my inner life. That there -is always lodged in me a duty to perform, shows that I am superior to -phenomena, that I am a citizen of the supersensuous world. This “heaven -does not lie beyond the grave, but already encompasses us, and its -light dawns in every human heart.” “That I myself am a freely acting -individual must be the fundamental thought of every true philosopher.” - -Every one must therefore choose between dogmatism and idealism, if -he would not fall a victim to skeptical despair. Two motives will -determine one’s choice: one theoretical, the other practical. The -primary motive is the practical one, and since dogmatism and idealism -are equally consistent systems, man’s choice will depend mainly on -the manner of man he is. If the individual has a high sense of duty, -he will be disposed to believe in his moral control over all his -experiences, however much they may seem to be necessitated. Conscious -freedom will seem to him to be the only satisfactory explanation of -practical life. But then there will be the additional theoretical -motive. The man that chooses either dogmatism or idealism must -theoretically make his world consistent. The dogmatist cannot explain -the conscious facts in terms of determinism; but, Fichte thinks, the -idealist can explain the necessitated facts in terms of consciousness. -At any rate the idealist has the task of rethinking his scientific -knowledge. - -=The Central Principle in Fichte’s Philosophy.= How does Fichte attempt -to draw up a consistent theory so that he can overcome the dualism -between the necessitated facts of physical nature and the free states -of consciousness? As an idealist he must rethink the knowledge of -science. But how is this to be done? What principle will he place -at the central point of consciousness, so to illuminate the manifold -problems of life that life’s dualism will prove to be only apparent -after all? Here as answer we find the outcome of Fichte’s struggle with -his own nature. He believed that the principle of the true philosophy -of life comes from the study of consciousness. The nature of the Ego -is the subject for philosophical study. What is the essence of the -Ego or the personality? It is activity, will, vitality; not intellect -and changelessness. But can we not get beneath the activity of the -personality and ask, Why does it act? Yes, _because it ought_. When we -have said this we have said all. The essence of the vitality of the Ego -is moral obligation. _Ought_ is the foundation of life; it is ultimate -ground of existence. If we ask why there is an ought, the only answer -is, there ought to be. The duty exists that you and I shall have a -duty. In order to be, the Ego must act; and it acts in response to duty. -This activity is free activity. The Ego is unconditioned because it -is acting out its own nature. Thus when Fichte is talking about the -Ego, the ought, the moral law or freedom, he is talking about the same -thing in different guises. Fichte placed moral freedom as the central -principle of metaphysics and tried to rethink the world of necessitated -experiences in terms of moral freedom. He attempted to construct a -monistic view of life, of which the free moral personality should be -its inner vitality. Monism and liberty was Fichte’s war-cry. Reality is -in us; there can be no reality independent of us. The morally free Ego -is the central principle of life. - -Such a message to the German people would appeal to two sides of their -nature. It would appeal as a metaphysics to the mysticism in their -blood; it would find also a practical response in the humanitarian and -revolutionary spirit of that revolutionary time. Be up and be doing, -for reality is not what people commonly think it is. Your environment -is only apparently an independent existence beyond your control. -Reality is not static. Rethink it and make it dynamic. Not being, but -acting, and free acting, is reality. Such was Fichte’s sermon to the -Germans of his day. His theory can be stated in the terms of the Greek -Heracleitus, “All things change,” provided the change be thought of -as moral activity. To philosophize was to Fichte to think the universe -as free moral activity, to see inactivity nowhere, to free ourselves -from dualism and to participate in the universal freedom. Freedom is -higher than truth. Existence is derived from thought in action, and -thus our existence and our environment may be shaped by us. Thought is -essentially action, and we shall educate the world only through our own -activity. - -=The Moral World.= Fichte had a philosophy, the principles of which he -repeated over and over again as a kind of habit. He was a man of few -but great ideas. He was inspired by some general conceptions which he -did not carefully elaborate. His philosophy can be expressed in few -words, and his point of view is not difficult to feel. Nevertheless, -there is great difficulty in restating his meaning. He maintained that -Kant’s early philosophy was not truly Kantian, and that he, Fichte, -represented the true Kant. In taking this stand he was obliged to do -two things: to explain away the thing-in-itself, and to rethink the -world of necessitated nature in terms of the activity of the morally -free Ego. - -If we start from the heart of existence――the active Ego――the world -spreads out before us as a system of reason which has been created by -the activity of the Ego. On this account Fichte’s philosophy has been -called subjective idealism. In such a scheme of things there is no -place for the Kantian thing-in-itself. All Being is only an extended -product of the active Ego and the object of its knowledge. The Ego acts -because it must, and then reflects upon its activity. Its knowledge of -its activity is in grades from sense-perception to complete knowledge. -Now Kant had referred sensations to the thing-in-itself as their source. -But this is unnecessary, since sensations are only the activity of -the Ego. Sensations are the groundless, free act of the Ego. They -appear to be “given,” because they appear to be foreign and coming -from without. They are, however, only the lowest form of the activity -of the personality――they are unconscious self-limitation of the Ego. -The sensations have no ground that determines them, but as the lowest -form of the activity of the Ego they are absolutely free. Thus the -thing-in-itself becomes superfluous, since it is not necessary to -account for sensations. - -The next task for Fichte is to rethink the series of necessitated -events of physical nature. If we will look at these events from the -point of view of the willing Ego, which is reality, they will be seen -to be products of purposive action. Together they will make a world -of connected rational activities rather than a mechanical system. The -necessity in nature is not causal, but teleological. It is not the -necessity linking the series of events together, but rather the linking -of each event to the acting Ego, and thus the connecting of the whole -series. Take the idealist’s position and this illuminating thought will -come to you: a thing is not because something else is, but in order -that something else may be. As moral beings we have tasks. As moral -beings we are the impersonation of duty, and duty is reality. These -phenomena that so trouble us because we think them necessitated are -only contingent upon the performance of our duty. The existence of -one thing is not to be explained by the existence of another, but by -the existence of me, an Ego. Phenomena are little steps toward great -ends. When I rethink the world I see no causal relationship, but the -teleological means for the achievement of purposes by striving souls. -History and nature――these are the material created by human beings for -their own activity. We not only create our human drama, but we create -also the stage upon which it is performed. Being is not the cause of -Doing, but Being is created for the sake of Doing. Whatever is, is to -be explained by what ought to be. “The world is the theatre of moral -action.” “Nature is the sensible material of duty.” - -=God and Man.= If Fichte regarded the human personality from this moral -height, he would naturally give a new meaning to God, the absolute -reality. God is not a substance, a something that “is.” God is the -universal moral process, the moral world-order. God is the Universal -Ego, a free, world-creating activity. God was conceived by Fichte as -Matthew Arnold’s “something not ourselves that makes for righteousness.” -When I find in myself that duty is reality and not this or that -fixed and crystallized thing, when I find that my real self is moral -functioning and not a tangible form of flesh and bones, then I take -the next step. I then find that God is universal duty, universal moral -functioning, in which I am participating. We are not only part of -God――yea, we are He. As the Holy Writ says, “Ye are Gods.” The absolute -Ego manifests Itself in our poor finite Egos. How dignified our humble -lot is made by thinking that in our acting, God is acting! We are -fighting God’s battle, and His victory is not won except as we win. -Duty in us is the clarion voice of God, and we are persons so far as -we express that voice. It matters little whether I speak of my own duty -or the moral purpose of the world. They are the same thing. - -This enjoined labor upon every rational soul to perform his duty of -reaching high ideals, through his humble tasks, of “fighting the good -fight and keeping the faith,” is to Fichte the meaning of coming to a -consciousness of one’s self. What is myself, my real self? It is not -this phenomenal existence with its appearance of necessity. It is the -eternal and everlasting duty within me. What is it to think myself? -It is to think my duty; and to think duty is to think God. When I -come to consciousness of myself, the cosmic order is coming so far to -self-consciousness. Reality is so far attained. History is the record -of this process of the moral order coming to self-consciousness. - -In his later teaching Fichte succumbed to the victorious Spinozism -of the period. He conceived God as an Ego whose infinite impulse is -directed toward Himself; he conceived finite things as products of -this infinitely active consciousness. The finite products find their -vocation in imitating the infinite producer, which imitation consists -not in the activity of producing other finite things through the -categorical imperative, but in the “blessed life” of sinking into the -infinite. - -=What a Moral Reality involves.= Since reality is this process of -moral development, its conditions will arise out of itself and be -its own creation. Since the world is reason coming to itself, it must -develop its own conditions out of its original task. All the acts of -history must be explained as the original “deed-act,” as Fichte calls -it. Fichte thought that the whole business of philosophy consists in -showing what is involved in this original “deed-act” of consciousness, -this attempt of consciousness to think itself. Since self-consciousness -is reality, this will be the same as showing what reality involves. - -1. In the first place, consciousness always involves the consciousness -of something else. To use Fichte’s technical language, the Ego posits -itself (since it is a moral process) and in the same act it posits a -non-Ego (which is the necessary object of consciousness). “The absolute -Ego asserts a distinguishable Ego against a distinguishable non-Ego.” -It is like a boy who feels the call to become a lawyer. He asserts -himself in that call, and at the same time in that assertion he creates -his life’s career. His career in the law is his non-Ego. Both the -Ego and the non-Ego are creations of that absolute Ego, which is the -ever surging duty or God. While both the Ego and the non-Ego are the -creations of that absolute Ego, which is cosmic duty or God, yet each -limits the other. Ego and non-Ego are correlative terms; both originate -in the free act of God. The world is, therefore, the creation of -the real self as the condition of its own activity. It even creates -its sensations as the given materials of its knowledge. The world is -the material of duty put into sense forms. While we create matter in -order that we may be active in it, the spatial and temporal forms, its -categories, limit our activities. - -2. In the second place, this awakening of the Ego to a consciousness -of itself involves a curious contradiction. Duty is by nature -contradictory. Duty calls me to know myself and to perform my task, -and yet in that call duty prevents the task from being performed. In -attempting to know duty completely I am always under the condition of -an opposing and limiting non-Ego. The non-Ego is essential to the Ego -and at the same time thwarts the Ego’s full knowledge of itself. So -long as the non-Ego exists, no complete knowledge of myself is possible. -A limiting non-Ego makes the Ego limited, and therefore prevents -complete knowledge and fulfillment of duty. Duty calls upon us to -perform a task, but under conditions such that it cannot be performed. -So long as the boy strives in his legal profession, duty appears; but -so long is duty rendered incomplete. Moral progress is endless, but -that only shows how contented we must be with the process of striving -and not with some static condition. To strive morally is reality; the -goal is nowhere. The contradiction is seen in the eternal contrast -between what is and what ought to be, between the moral task and the -actual performance. We are under the requirement to perform, and in the -requirement is the restraint. The dialectic process is endless. First -there is the stage which Fichte calls the Thesis in the call of the -absolute Ego. The next stage is the Antithesis, seen in the mutually -limiting Ego and non-Ego. The next stage is the Synthesis, in which -some accomplishment is gained, but which becomes only the Thesis for -another Antithesis; and so on infinitely. The terms Thesis, Antithesis, -and Synthesis are important, for they are employed by Fichte’s -successors, Schelling and Hegel. - -=Romanticism.=[61] “We seek the plan of nature in the outside world. -We ourselves are this plan. Why need we traverse the difficult roads -through physical nature? The better and purer road lies within our own -mind.” (Novalis.) - -Romanticism was a great European movement which lasted about a century -from 1750 to 1850; and it would be perfectly justifiable to speak of -the intellectual period in Germany from Lessing to Heine as Romanticism. -Rousseau and the French Revolutionists, Ossian, Scott, Wordsworth, -Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Keats, and Wagner were in the forefront of -this world-wide movement. The Storm and Stress Period was a phase of -it; and so even was the Period of Classicism that followed. Goethe and -Schiller were Romanticists, and Classicism was only an episode in their -lives. The Period of German Classicism (1787–1805) was different from -the Classicism of the seventeenth century, because it was thoroughly -infected with Romantic germs. If one is to take account of the -different phases of German thought after Lessing, one mentions first -the Storm and Stress Period, then Classicism, and then the Romantic -movement proper from 1795 to 1850. Some of the literary names connected -with the Romantic movement have already been mentioned,――Richter, Tieck, -♦Wackenroder, Novalis, the Schlegels, Schiller, and Goethe. Fichte, -Schelling, and Hegel are the philosophers of this Romantic movement and -embody its spirit in different degrees. The true philosophical exponent -of it is Schelling. - -Romanticism is an accidental and inadequate name for this world-wide -literary and philosophical movement. In general it means the exalting -of the individual, “who admits no law above himself.” The Romantic -individuality is dominated by unrestrained fancy, is animated by -feeling and passion, and prefers the vague and mystical to the clear -and defined. In literature Romanticism is contrasted with Classicism. -The Classicist emphasizes the type, the Romanticist the individual. The -Classicist defers to traditional form and law; the Romanticist has no -common canon even with other Romanticists except the right to disagree. -The only common principle among Romanticists is subjective――the truth -of the individual intuitions, which in the case of the historical -Romanticists found expression in the play of fiercely egoistic -wills seeking self-realization. The historical Romantic movement -was a passionate and mighty reaction against the previous shallow -intellectual life with its narrow conventions. Romanticism was a revolt -against the period of the Enlightenment, which scorned what it could -not define. These Romanticists were discontented with typical ideas -and with logical reasoning about them. They challenged the universe, -because it was not obedient to their egoistic cravings. - -It is very clear what the dangers as well as the greatness of this -German Romanticism were. The dangers of the movement lay within itself, -in its aristocratic exclusiveness, its reluctance to face the forces -of evil, its lack of strength and of firmness of character. Yet the -age itself may be largely responsible for these. Its strength lay also -within, in its deepening of self-consciousness, in its rejuvenating and -ennobling the whole expanse of being, in its intellectual conception of -man’s most intimate relations to himself, to his companions, and to the -world around him. Sometimes, indeed, the spiritual force of this small -band shows itself quite capable of strong action in the outer world. -Napoleon himself ascribed his downfall not primarily to diplomacy or -to the bayonet, but to the resistance of the German Ideologists. - -=Goethe as a Romanticist.= We have already spoken of the resurrection -of Spinoza’s doctrine and its acceptance as a model by this time. The -Romanticists, following Spinoza, conceived of nature as a unity in -which the divine manifests itself in its fullness. Nature is Reason -in Becoming. So fitting, indeed, for the time was Spinoza’s pantheism -that Goethe, the literary exponent of the period, made it the central -principle of his poetic thought. Goethe can be understood only as the -Romantic Spinoza. The philosophy that underlies Goethe’s work is noted -here as an example of the Romantic movement. - -Like all the Romantic philosophy, Goethe’s philosophy was a personal -revelation, and not a formulated doctrine for universal application. -Like all the Romanticists, Goethe was a highly strung personality, and -his philosophy was conceived to be true by himself only for himself. -He did not look upon the trivialities and the conventions of life as -mere limitations of his personality, but as a fall from truth. _Truth -is realized by man when he is in vital interchange with the universe._ -Therefore Goethe was in full agreement with Spinoza in longing for -emancipation from human littleness and in his desire for the infinite. -Goethe differed from Spinoza’s pantheism in his own way; for Goethe -conceived man to have an independent function in the infinite. Man -makes his contribution to history and does not merely passively -appropriate the products of the world around himself. Man reacts upon -the world, he resists it, and becomes alive to the joy of it. - -To Goethe the world had a soul, because the world gives clearness -to the human soul. Nature shows how closely she is related to us by -disclosing to us her inmost soul. Here in Goethe is a mysticism in -modern garb, an artistic view of life. Besides, the world expresses -human experiences on a large scale, and the way to nature’s heart -is not to go behind nature-phenomena, but through them. The facts -of nature are real, and our own life is like nature. Both move in -prescribed orbits, but both are empty if the connection between them -is severed. We find therefore the secret of our life by returning -to nature, and this is a return to the spiritual whole of things. -At different times Goethe was pantheist, naturalist, and theist. -He believed that all finite life is divine, and is a synthesis of -opposite forces, in which individuality has a place. Humanity is ruled -by necessary types, yet within them the individual is free. Such free -individuals take their objects from the world, spiritually endow these -objects, and thus make art and ethics very close to nature. - -=Romanticism in Philosophy.=[62] The Romantic movement was -intrinsically speculative and naturally had its representatives -in philosophy, which is systematic speculation. Fichte and Hegel, -but especially Schelling, are the philosophical exponents of the -revolutionary spirit of the age. All three were demonstrators -in philosophy of the truths and dreams held by ardent souls, but -Schelling’s system reflected the spiritual upheaval. Fichte belongs -to the Romantic movement inasmuch as he strives for the infinite, but -Fichte separates himself from that movement by distinguishing between -consciousness and its content. The true Romantic spirit appears in -Schelling――the impulse to revel in intuitions, in symbolism, to run -riot first in nature and art, and afterwards in religion. The Romantic -philosophers were friends and sympathizers of the Romanticists, living -in the same city, sometimes in the same house, and were members of the -same spiritual family. But it must be remembered that there was not -one Romanticist leader with many imitators, but that each Romanticist -followed out his own line. When we speak of Schelling as a Romantic -philosopher we mean that he gives the speculative tendency of the many -Romanticists his own clearer definition and formulation. The background -of Schelling’s philosophy is the source of the Romanticists’ motives. -It may be stated under three headings:―― - -(1) Man’s ideal is to expand his soul until it becomes one with God. - -(2) There is no Thing-in-Itself. The finite world is only a limitation -of the ego. - -(3) Man and the nature world are essentially one. Man has a knowledge -of nature when he has a knowledge of himself. In reading his own -history he reads the history of nature. The Romanticist drew a veil -from the face of nature and found there his own spirit. - -=The Life and the Writings of Schelling= (1775–1854).[63] Of -Schelling’s long life of seventy-nine years, the fifteen years from -1795 to 1810 were the most important productive period. Like Berkeley, -he was a many-sided genius, and began to write brilliantly in his early -years. He published his first treatise at sixteen years, and before he -was twenty he published several essays of distinct merit on Fichte’s -philosophy, the success of which led to his call to the chair of -philosophy at Jena. All his technical works were written in an academic -atmosphere. After 1812 he, so fond of writing, became silent. He even -ceased to deliver lectures at the University of Berlin when he found -that notes of them were published without his consent. Hegel, in -commenting on Schelling, said that Schelling liked to carry on his -thinking in public. - -Schelling and Fichte may be studied together because they are alike -in developing one side of Kant’s doctrine. But their careers were -very different. Contrasted with Fichte’s life of poverty, struggle, -self-created antagonisms, long-delayed victory, and devotion to -rigorous morality, is Schelling’s life of early academic success, -prosperity, and romantic friendships. The life of Kant was one of inner -development and outward routine; that of Fichte of early formulated -thought and external warfare. Schelling’s life, on the other hand, does -not strike us as one of development, either externally or subjectively. -It was rather a series of changes. He looked upon his own philosophy -as a development, but its linkage is thread-like, due to his wonderful -imagination and mobility of thought. With his great suggestive -power, he depended more upon analogy than logic; his argument and -his philosophy lie before us as if ever in process of continuous -readaptation. Schelling possessed all the fervor and insight of -the Romanticists, and all their egoism and caprice. It is even more -difficult to characterize his philosophy than that of Spinoza. He was -monist, pantheist, and evolutionist; parallelist, theosophist, and -believer in freedom; he accepted the doctrine of the Trinity; in all -this he was the true Romanticist. Schelling’s philosophy of nature -is intelligible only in the light of the great artistic ferment of -his time and as the expression of his strong artistic personality. -His ideal of artistic insight into nature became for him his idea -of science. Reality is nature, and nature is a work of art, self -composed and self renewing. The endeavor of Schelling was to fashion -all human existence into artistic form. At first he looked upon nature -as rational, but later he was impressed with its irrationality. - -Schelling’s life may be divided into six periods on the basis of the -changes of his thought:―― - -1. _Earlier Period_ (1775–1797). Schelling was the son of the -chaplain of a cloister school near Tübingen, and was educated in -history and speculative science in the university of that town. After -his university education he held the position of tutor in a nobleman’s -family at Leipsic for two years. During this time he listened to -lectures at the University of Leipsic on medicine and physics. Before -he was twenty he had published several notable essays on speculative -matters, among them _The Ego as a Principle in Philosophy_; and in 1797 -_Ideas for a Philosophy of Nature_. These led to his call to a chair -in the University of Jena. Schelling was early acquainted with the -doctrine of Leibnitz, but the most powerful influences upon him at this -time were Kant and, especially, Fichte. - -2. _The Philosophy of Nature_ (1797–1800). Schelling was called to Jena -through the influence of Goethe, Schiller, and Fichte; and it was here -that he completed what he had begun at Leipsic――the supplementation -of Fichte’s philosophy with a _Philosophy of Nature_ (written 1798). -He was colleague of Fichte and afterwards a helpful friend of Hegel. -Jena was then the centre of the Romantic movement, the moving spirit -of which was Caroline, the wife of August Schlegel. Schelling was very -successful at Jena as lecturer, and his publications at this time were -very many. - -3. _The Transcendental Philosophy_ (1800–1801). While still at Jena -he felt the influence of Schiller, who had united the ideas of Kant -and Goethe into an Æsthetic Idealism. Under this influence Schelling -reconstructed the Fichtean philosophy of the Ego on a Romantic basis. - -4. _The Philosophy of Identity_ (1801–1804). Schelling now undertook to -put his recast philosophy of Fichte upon the basis of Spinozism. This -caused a break between him and Fichte and Hegel. In 1803 he married -Caroline, the divorced wife of August Schlegel and the idol of the -Romantic circle, and the same year accepted a call to the University -of Wurzburg, where he remained three years (1803–1806). - -5. _The Philosophy of Freedom and God_ (1804–1809). The doctrine of -Schelling now became mystical and showed the influence of Boehme. In -1806 Schelling was called to the Academy of Munich. - -6. _The Philosophy of Mythology and Revelation_ (1809–1854). This may -be well called Schelling’s period of silence, so far as publication was -concerned. He who had poured forth his thoughts in print now became -averse to publishing anything. He accepted the call to Munich in 1806 -and remained there, excepting his seven years at Erlangen, thirty-five -years (until 1841). During this time he was much under the influence -of Aristotle, neo-Platonism, and the Gnostics. He had first an official -position at the Academy of Munich; then he spent seven years as teacher -at the University of Erlangen (1820–1827); and in 1827 he entered the -newly founded University of Munich. In 1841 he was called to Berlin to -counteract the Hegelian movement, and he became a member of the Academy -with the privilege of lecturing at the University. He was now sixty-six, -and he spent the remaining years in elaborating his system. He died in -1854. - -=A Brief Comparison of Fichte and Schelling as Philosophers.= We have -already spoken of the relation of Fichte and Schelling to the Romantic -movement. What is their relation as philosophers? Fichte’s idealism -is commonly called subjective because of his emphasis upon the Ego -at the expense of the non-Ego. In non-technical terms Fichte gave no -adequate philosophy of nature; for his assumption was that nature is -only material for the reason. Nature to Fichte was only the stage upon -which the reason could act. Fichte’s keen insight into human affairs -blinded him to the meaning of nature. The contribution of Schelling to -the philosophy of nature was not therefore unwelcomed by Fichte; for -he saw that such a philosophy could easily be developed from his point -of view, provided nature be regarded as a unity in the service of the -reason. _In brief, the development of Schelling over Fichte was this_: -(1) Schelling added a science of nature to Fichte’s science of mind; -(2) Then he transformed Fichte’s philosophy of mind into an æsthetic -philosophy of mind; (3) Then he tried in several successive attempts -to find a common metaphysical ground for his own philosophy of nature -and his recast philosophy of mind. While the method of Schelling was -not different from that of Fichte, his general motive was different; -for to Schelling the universe must not be regarded as the creation of -an active moral Ego, but as having an existence of its own. While for -Fichte to think is to produce, for Schelling it is to reproduce. To -the investigating mind of Schelling experience and observation are -the sources of knowledge; yet it must not be inferred that Schelling’s -philosophy was inductive or that he _derived_ the Ego from the non-Ego, -as if the Ego had been evolved from the non-Ego. These were the days -before the modern theory of evolution. Mind does not have its source -in nature; on the contrary, mind and nature have a common source in -the Reason. They have a parallel existence and develop according to -the same law. Nature is existing Reason, mind is thinking Reason. - -=Schelling’s Philosophy of Nature.= Schelling started with Kant’s -early conception of nature as dynamic――that matter exists through the -interplay of the forces of attraction and repulsion. The human organism -is the highest expression of such dynamic activity. In the world there -is nothing dead. Matter is the lowest expression of dynamic activity; -the vegetable is next, the animal next, and the human brain is the -consummation of this process of productivity. Thus matter on the one -hand and mind on the other are the two poles of reason in nature. -Everything is life movement; everything is the oscillation between two -extremes, the interplay of contrary but correlative forces. In romantic -terms, nature is the Self in Becoming. Nature is a living whole which -manifests itself in an ascending scale of rich and varied forces -between matter and mind. - -Such a conception met consistently the demands of this Romantic -period.[64] The high expectations of the physicists of the previous -century had been unfulfilled, for they had not succeeded in obtaining -a purely mechanical explanation of the derivation of life from matter. -Darwin was still to come. Medicine, which was at that time showing -great progress, offered no argument for the mechanical conception of -the world. There had, however, been many discoveries at this time in -electricity and magnetism; and these mysterious qualities seemed to -repudiate the mechanical theory. Vitalism thus usurped the place of -mathematics. Spinoza rather than Galileo was the model of the time. -Nature must be conceived as a unity in which the Divine manifests -itself in its fullness. - -All these influences appear in Schelling’s first philosophical -undertaking. He states philosophically what Goethe states poetically. -Nature is not to be described in quantities nor measured by rule. -It transcends measurement. It is to be truly understood only as -productivity having organic life as its goal. Nature is rational life, -not mechanism. Everything has its logically determined place. Schelling -used the natural science of his time to show how the connection of -forces and their transformation into one another were the manifestation -of divine cosmic purpose. The gaps he filled in with teleological -conceptions. He used morphology with the same purpose as Goethe. He -felt the same need of a deeper meaning of nature than mathematics can -give――the need of a rational purposeful meaning. Goethe shows this -in his “Theory of Colors” when he looks upon colors not as atomic -movements, but as something essentially qualitative. Schelling, too, -was not an evolutionist in the modern sense, and he did not regard one -species as derived from another. He thought of species in an ascending -scale, to be sure; but he saw in each only the preliminary stage to the -next, and all as the divine expression. One accomplishment of nature -merely precedes another in time. - -The nineteenth century looked back on this Romantic science as merely a -fit of excessive sentiment that has impeded the modern work of serious -investigation. Yet it may safely be said that the nineteenth century -has not settled the question, and that nature will always need a -rational as well as a mechanical explanation. - -=Schelling’s Transcendental Philosophy.= _The Philosophy of Nature_ -ends with the explanation of sensitivity; and it is there for Schelling -that the philosophy of knowledge begins. When three years later -Schelling was ready to reconstruct Fichte’s philosophy of mind――when he -was ready to break with Fichte――he was influenced by the great change -that had come over the thought of the Jena idealists. This change was -due curiously enough to the philosophy of the intimate friend of Goethe, -the poet Schiller. Here again the proximity of Weimar and Jena was -the cause of the reciprocal influence of philosophy and literature. -Schelling was the first to give this new thought its philosophical -expression. The theory of Schiller is an æsthetic idealism in which -the artistic function supplants the moral law of Fichte and Kant, and -is the fundamental reality of life. - -When Schiller[65] reshaped Kant’s moral philosophy he was not -concerned, as might be supposed, merely with æsthetic results, but -with conduct, history, and the whole system of metaphysics. The problem -always uppermost in Schiller’s mind was the place of art and beauty -in the whole system of things. So when he tried to reconcile Kant’s -theoretical reason and Kant’s practical reason, he naturally looked to -art for such reconciliation. What is there that is both necessary and -free? Beauty! “Beauty is freedom in phenomenal appearance.” Æsthetic -contemplation apprehends the beautiful object, and yet in so doing -it transcends all the trammels and bonds of experience. The artistic -ecstasy is freedom in necessity. It is independent of moral as well as -intellectual rules. Beauty is as little an object of sense as of will. -It does not have the quality of need that belongs to sense phenomena, -nor of earnestness that accompanies morality. Sense is obliterated; -the stirrings of the will become silent. That which appears was called -by Schiller the “play impulse.” Toward the education of man Schiller -thus offered art, while Kant had presented religion. Art refines the -feelings, tempers the sensuous will, and makes room for the moral will. -Yet the moral will is not the end; for art is not only the means of -education, but the goal as well. Complete life comes when the conflict -between morality and sense disappears in artistic feeling. “Only as -man plays is he truly man.” The ideal that Schiller formulated for -this Romantic age was the “schöne Seele.” While in the soul of man the -Kantian rigoristic moral law exists when sense stands in opposition to -duty, the “beautiful soul” does not know conflict because its nature -is ennobled by its own inclination. This æsthetic humanism Schiller -expresses for his time in antithesis to Kant’s and Fichte’s rigorism. -Goethe impersonated this ideal in his life and represented it in his -works. The Romanticists carried this conception to its extreme both -in their practice and in their literary productions. Thus they came to -stand for an aristocracy of culture, and in them “ethical geniality” -culminated. The Romanticist contrasted himself with the “Philistine” -who lives according to rules. The Romanticist would live out his own -individuality as valuable in itself. He substituted the endless play of -the imagination for Fichte’s moral law, and was frequently very wayward -and capricious. This is seen in Schlegel’s _Lucinde_. Schleiermacher -the preacher tried to preserve the purity of Schiller’s doctrine. - -In his construction of his own philosophy of mind Schelling adopted -completely Schiller’s theory of the æsthetic reason in what he called -_Transcendental Idealism_. He looked upon the Fichtean antithesis -between theoretical and practical reason as the same as that between -the unconscious and the conscious activity of the Self. Theoretically, -or from the point of view of the understanding, consciousness is -determined by the unconscious; practically, or from the point of view -of the will, the unconscious is the creation of consciousness. The -practical or willing Self re-shapes the products of the nature world. -For a thinking being is not merely a reflector or re-presenter of -events as they occur in the nature world――as nature produces them. -Thinking man is not merely passive. He re-shapes and transforms nature -through the freedom of his morality. - -But neither the series of passively apprehended events, nor the -series of events transformed by the active moral will, is ever -complete. Neither as a passive product of nature nor as a moral will -is man a perfected being. In either condition man perpetually feels the -contradiction, since he is neither wholly passive nor wholly active. -The antagonism between will and sense is ever present. Man realizes -the fullness of his Ego, when he transcends both will and sense, -both morality and science, in the conscious-unconscious activity of -artistic genius. This is the highest synthesis. In Schelling’s lectures -delivered at Jena on the philosophy of art, after he had written his -_Transcendental Idealism_, he developed and applied this theory and -it determined the subsequent development of æsthetics in the Jena -circle. Kant had previously defined genius as intellect that works like -nature; Schiller had defined it as playing; Schelling looked upon it as -æsthetic reason and the climax of the philosophy of mind. Art, and not -logic, is the instrument by which the reason develops. Artistic reason -is the goal toward which the reason aims. - -=The System of Identity.= Schelling published his _Transcendental -Idealism_ in 1800. In the next year he published his _System of -Identity_ in the hope of finding some common ground for his two -preceding points of view. For Nature is not absolute, but is a limited -objective Ego; and Mind is also not absolute, but is also limited, -although subjective. The Self perceives the object as other than itself, -and in subsequent reflection it sees the object as a form of its own -deeper Self. Subject and object, mind and nature, are one in reality. -The question then is, Does the absolute Self exist? Yes, but outside -the conditions of existence and beyond all contradictions. It is itself -the highest condition, the unconditioned condition. But what is the -basis of these two antithetical aspects of life? The most suitable name -that Schelling could give it was Identity or Indifference; for other -names would imply conditions. In this attempt to construct an absolute -Idealism, Schelling shows the influence of Spinoza. Identity reminds -us of Spinoza’s substance,――a reality that is absolutely indifferent -to both mental and nature phenomena, and yet is the reality of both. It -is absolute reason undetermined in its content. It was this turning to -Spinozism on the part of Schelling, that made Hegel break with him and -call his Identity “the night, in which all cows are black.” Schelling -even came so much under the influence of Spinoza as to imitate -Spinoza’s form of presentation in the Ethics. But Schelling regarded -the objective and subjective worlds not after the manner of Spinoza -as independent of each other. On the contrary he looked upon every -phenomenon as both ideal and real, and as having its logical place -according to the degree in which the two elements are combined. -Differences are what constitute phenomena; the Absolute is the -Indifferent. Schelling illustrates this by the magnet, which is itself -an indifference of opposite poles of varying intensity. - -In the nature series the objective factor predominates, and in the -mental series the subjective factor. The universe is the most perfect -work of art, the most perfect organism, and the best expression of God. - -=Schelling’s Religious Philosophy.= Romanticism took a religious turn -at the beginning of the eighteenth century under the influence of -Schleiermacher.[66] The motive of this movement was the thought that -religious feeling lies below art. Reason can be completed only in -religion, by which is meant not dogma, nor morality, but an æsthetic -relation to the world-ground, a pious feeling of absolute dependence. -It is the feeling of being permeated by the Absolute. Schleiermacher -taught in the true Romantic spirit that religion is an individual -matter and is different from church organization. Thus in this time of -quickly passing shades of imaginative thought Schiller idealized Greece -and Schleiermacher the Middle Ages. Susceptible as he was to every -idea of his time, Schelling embodied this teaching of Schleiermacher -in his later teaching. With the other Romanticists he expected that the -concept of religion would furnish a final basis for the solution of all -problems, overcome all antitheses in an inner harmony, and bring about -the eternal welfare of all. - -Schelling now no longer called the Absolute Indifference, but God -or Infinity, and he conceived Him as possessing modes and potencies. -In the development of this new line of thought he introduced the -neo-Platonic doctrine of Ideas as God’s intuitions of Himself, and as -intermediaries with the world. Later Schelling passed through another -change, and this doctrine grew under his hands into a theosophy and a -theory of the irrational. The influence of Schelling was eclipsed by -Hegel after Schelling retired to Munich; and Schelling saw his rival -in control of German academic thought for many years. But he had the -satisfaction in his old age of being called by the authorities to -Berlin as the official spokesman against the Hegelian doctrine. - -=Hegel and the Culmination of Idealism.= We have divided the -philosophers after Kant into two groups; (1) Fichte, Schelling and -the Romanticists, and Hegel; (2) Herbart and Schopenhauer. In this -first group, which we have at present under our eye, Fichte is the -ethical exhorter, Schelling the Romantic nature-lover, and Hegel the -intellectual systematizer. Fichte’s conception of Reality is always -an ethical ideal unrealized, in whose cause men are called to fight -for conviction’s sake. Schelling points to the beauty of nature’s -productivity as a reality that lies hidden in mystery. Both these -theories show profound insight into life and both are expressive -of the period in its attitude toward life. Fichte is the type of -the Puritan idealist; Schelling the type of the sentimentalist. Yet -both, even from the point of view of the Idealism of the period, were -partial expressions. Idealism was a social movement; and like all -social movements must run its course. It would not stop until it had -culminated in a full and systematic formulation. This was found in the -philosophy of Hegel. The social forces of the eighteenth century had -been gathering a momentum, which naturally came to a magnificent climax. -On its political side this movement culminated under the leadership of -the greatest of all political idealists, Napoleon Bonaparte, in 1815 -at Waterloo. On its intellectual side it reached its completion in the -philosophical system of Hegel. Hegel died in 1831, and his intellectual -kingdom, like the political kingdom of Napoleon, was immediately -shattered. But the observer of the currents of history will find much -significance in the stubborn persistence of the intellectual phase of -the Idealistic movement long after its political dominance had gone. -Hegel ruled the intellectual world of Germany from Berlin for sixteen -years after the battle of Waterloo, and his philosophy was officially -recognized by the Berlin authorities. This stubbornness of the realm of -ideas can be exemplified throughout history, for it requires more than -one political earthquake to demolish a well-organized intellectual -theory. - -Hegel may be said to have drawn the scattered threads of the preceding -idealists into a system. Like them, he firmly grounded his philosophy -on the Kantian epistemology. Like them also, he sought to find absolute -reality by means of the conscious Ego. This only means that all three -were idealists. But Fichte’s conception of the Ego was only partially -formed. It could not be an absolute reality, since it needed to be -confronted by a non-Ego in order to assert itself and live. Hegel was -discerning enough to see that Reason was more fundamental than either -action, purpose, or consciousness itself. To him both the Ego and -the non-Ego were in essence Reason. The Ego could not know that it -had created the non-Ego unless the Ego was in the beginning rational. -To distinguish the Ego from the non-Ego, there must be some ground of -similarity upon which both are based. In his search for this ground -Hegel at first allied himself with Schelling. The brilliancy of -Schelling’s thought dazzled him. Then he saw that Schelling only -led back to the abstract universal of Spinoza. A mystical “black -night” Identity was not actual nor did it explain anything actual. -It merely said that the Absolutely Real is unknowable. This is too -easy a solution of the complexity of life. Having neither meaning nor -actuality, it cannot explain the actual concrete and meaningful things. -The Absolutely Real must be a universal, but it must also be concrete. -History has been the Reason in its toil and travail. The Absolutely -Real must include history and it must be Reason. With Fichte the “deed -act” had primacy, with Schelling the æsthetic feeling, with Hegel the -Reason as an articulated series of concepts. - -=Why Hegel remains to-day the Representative of Kant.= There were -several reasons why Hegel remains the representative of Kant:―― - -1. He had more learning and ability than the other post-Kantians. - -2. His own interpretation was an interpretation of facts. By the other -post-Kantians things are not represented as they are, but as they have -been transformed. Hegel, however, was a respecter of things as they -are. Hegel was possessed of no sentiment. He was a satirist; although -a romanticist, he was an encyclopædic historian as well. He was a -philosopher in that old-time sense of wishing to know the nature of -things. - -3. He was fortunate in his application of Kant’s doctrine to evolution. -It proved to be the beginning of the movement which appeared later in -Darwin. People were going to be evolutionists in the nineteenth century, -and Hegel played into their hands and helped evolution. - -4. Hegel gave to his philosophy the air of orthodoxy. In the nineteenth -century there was a desire for Christianity that was orthodox. Hegel -offered no objection to allowing that interpretation to be placed upon -his philosophy. - -=The Life and Writings of Hegel= (1770–1831).[67] The slow movement of -Hegel’s diction is paralleled by his gradual development in thought. He -was the most painstaking metaphysician that ever completed a philosophy. -While he was lacking in the painful hesitation that made Kant consume -so much time in introductions as to have little for the body of his -discourses and none for the completion of his philosophy, he was -nevertheless a plodding, careful, and prosaic thinker. As a boy he -showed these traits without showing any predominant taste or capacity. -“He was that uninteresting character――the good boy who takes prizes -in every class, including the prize for good conduct.” As a man he -was shrewd and reserved, overbearing to his inferiors and opponents, -and even patronizing to his superiors. He was the type of the pedantic -teacher who brooks no opposition. Like Kant’s, his life was entirely -academic, but unlike Kant’s, his experience was in many university -circles――Tübingen, Jena, Heidelberg, and Berlin. His thirteen years at -Berlin were remarkable, not only for his philosophical dominance, but -for his influence in society and court. The official recognition of -his philosophy by the Berlin authorities was a detriment in the end; -for immediately after his death, in 1831, it lost its influence. Hegel -had succeeded Fichte at Berlin, and by the irony of fate, Schelling, -already an old man in Vienna, was called by the Berlin authorities to -combat Hegel’s influence. Hegel’s followers, after his death, became -engaged in angry disputes over their interpretations of their master’s -philosophy. His philosophy was attacked by Herbart. The intellectual -world turned away from him to empirical discoveries and the doctrine -of evolution. In twenty years Hegel’s influence was insignificant, and -to-day his name is scarcely mentioned in the lecture room of a German -university. His influence is, however, growing and powerful in England -and the United States. Still it must be said that even in Germany -no one has so dominated the direction of jurisprudence, sociology, -theology, æsthetics, and history (a science which Hegel himself -created). Hegel’s erudition, his ability to systematize, his power -of discrimination, are sufficient to explain such influence. The -illumination that his philosophy gives, lies less in his metaphysical -theory than in his application of it to history and tradition. He won -adherents, not by his abstruse arguments that so few can understand, -but by illustration; not by his demonstration of the Absolute, but by -showing how that Absolute is what the religious devotee seeks, what -the moralist presupposes and the historian recognizes. In carrying out -his theory in detail he arbitrarily fitted his facts to his theory, -especially in the philosophy of nature, the history of philosophy, and -history. In the realm of pure thought, where conceptual facts are dealt -with, this is not so apparent. He was successful, for example, in the -science of æsthetics. - -Hegel’s literary style is difficult, and his technicalities are almost -barbarous. He uses philosophical and common terms with meanings to -suit himself. He loves paradoxical phrases, and is pedantic in his -insistence on systematic arrangement. - -1. _Formative Period_ (1770–1796). Hegel was born at Stuttgart in 1770, -and in the years between 1788 and 1793 he studied philosophy, theology, -and the classics in the University of Tübingen. Among his companions -there were Schelling and Hölderlin. From 1793 to 1796 he was a tutor in -Switzerland, where he made a further study of Kant. - -2. _Formulation of his Philosophy_ (1796–1806). Hegel formulated his -philosophy for the first time in the four years (1796–1800) of his life -at Frankfort, where he was acting in the capacity of tutor. In 1801 -he became privat-docent at Jena through Schelling’s recommendation. He -edited a philosophical journal with Schelling, and the two were friends -so long as Hegel found Schelling’s assistance of value to himself. -When, in 1803, Schelling left Jena, Hegel began to criticize his former -friend’s philosophy. Hegel was appointed professor of philosophy at -Jena in 1805. - -3. _Development of his Philosophy_ (1806–1831). - - 1806. He wrote the _Phänomenologie_, which was published in 1807. - - 1807. The university was discontinued after the battle of Jena, - and Hegel went to Bamberg to edit a newspaper. - - 1807–1815. Hegel was at Nuremberg as teacher in its gymnasium, - and in 1811, at the age of forty-one, he married. - - 1812–1813. He published his _Logic_. - - 1816–1817. He was professor of philosophy at Heidelberg. He - published his _Encyclopædia_, which consists of three parts: - Logic, Philosophy of Nature, and Philosophy of Mind. This was - enlarged in 1827. - - 1818. Hegel succeeded Fichte at Berlin, where he met with marked - success, and where he exercised a very wide influence. When - Hegel came to Berlin his philosophical theory was already - formulated, and his thirteen years at Berlin were spent in - illustrating and verifying it in history. - - 1831. At the height of his fame, he died of cholera. - -=Realism, Mysticism, and Idealism.= It will not be amiss at this -point to contrast three of the great types of human thought,――Realism -and Mysticism with the Idealism of which Hegel was the consummate -expression. The Idealistic Period of European thought is confined -within the forty-one years between 1790 and 1831. Moreover it is -a world-wide movement, the philosophical expression of which is -restricted to the German people. Mysticism and Realism represent the -civilizations of longer periods and of many peoples. Mysticism is, for -example, the attitude of mind frequently found in the Middle Ages in -Europe, and may be roughly said to be the philosophy of the Oriental -peoples. Spinoza was a belated mystic and its best European exponent; -and against the revival of Spinoza’s Mysticism during this period Hegel -as an idealist took his stand. Realism has been a popular philosophy -in all civilizations at all times, and it was the irony of fate that -Realism followed directly upon Hegel’s long period of dominance as an -idealist. Modern science is based on Realism, and so, on the whole, -was Greek civilization. In contrast to Realism, Idealism represents a -few years of history and has been confined to a limited civilization, -yet for profundity of insight into the meaning of life Idealism is the -consummation of human reflection. - -Since “philosophy lends itself to extended discourse,” it is quite -impossible to contrast these theories briefly in more than a crude -way. From the mystic’s point of view, absolute reality is that which -can be immediately apprehended. However, since immediate intuition is -always undetermined, the mystic’s reality is a very vague and abstract -thing, although for him it is none the less real. Such a reality is -not usually sought in the “world of nature”; for nature objects are -very definite, besides being very transitory. The mystic’s world of -reality is within; therefore God to the mystic is to be found within -the soul and is to be contrasted with the unreality of the world of -sense. There is only one reality, and that is within the soul; all -else is an illusion. Reality is gained by direct knowledge and never -by the process of logical reflection. Mysticism is frequently allied -with æsthetics; the love of God is apparently the same as the love -for a work of art; the immediate intuition that the soul has of God -apparently is the same psychological process as the artistic ecstasy -over a thing of beauty. Both result in the absorption of the soul in -its object, and in the presence of either all else seems illusory. -Now Realism is a theory that is more easily defined than Mysticism. It -is simply the conception of many realities independent of one another -and of the thinking mind. Reality is not one, it is a plurality of -independent things, all of which are independent of the thinking -process. Such realities are not undefined. As in Idealism, our -knowledge of them is a definite matter of reflection; but against -Mysticism, such definite knowledge is proof of their reality. - -This can be illustrated by the series 1 + ½ + ¼ + ⅛ ... 2. Let the -number “2” represent the reality or meaning of the infinite series, -which, however far extended, never reaches “2.” Let the series itself -represent the definite processes of phenomenal nature. The Realist -would say that only the increasing series is real, and the “2” is -an unknowable. The Realist admits that the series is fragmentary and -incomplete, but it is quite definite and certainly the best we can -do. It is at least exact and scientific; and the goal of scientific -knowledge belongs to the realm of the attainable. On the other hand the -Mystic maintains that, since exact knowledge attains only the changing -and phenomenal, exact knowledge is illusory. When we cannot attain the -real by effort and sense knowledge, why waste our time in seeking to do -so? Reality is right at hand――in one’s self. To the Mystic the infinite -series of fractions is unreal, because it is and always will be -incomplete. The ideal “2” can be got by direct and intuitive knowledge. -Thus to the Realist the infinite series is real and the goal ”2” -is unreal, while to the Mystic the “2” is real and the fractions of -experience are unreal. - -Hegel felt profoundly convinced that neither Realism with its -definite realities nor Mysticism with its undefined goal was an -adequate explanation of the world and life. The truly real must not -only be definite, but it must also be all-inclusive. It must not on -the one hand be incomplete, nor on the other must it be vague. It -must be both the number “2” and the infinite series leading to “2.” -A truly and absolutely real must be the explanation of everything that -happens,――joy, evil, necessity in nature, every least event and change. -In the light of the idealism of Hegel the solutions of the Mystic and -the Realist seem to fade in importance, and the problem of life seems -to grow in significance and meaning. - -=The Fundamental Principles of Hegel’s Idealism.= In contrast with -Mysticism and Realism, as well as with the doctrine of Fichte and -Schelling, Hegel tried to formulate a conception of the universe that -would include everything and yet be an organic whole. In what terms can -this world of richness and variety, of coördinations and contradictions, -be conceived as a single whole? How can it be one and still be many? -Hegel saw clearly that this was his problem. The truly absolute must be -a unity, and still be absolute. - -There are two fundamental principles upon which his doctrine rests: -(1) _The world must be conceived in terms of consciousness._ To any -one who has studied the principles of psychology, or who has followed -Kant’s epistemological analysis, it is clear that the only real unities -are conscious unities. The characteristic of consciousness is synthesis. -This is what we mean by consciousness, and consciousness is unique in -this. (2) _The world as a conscious whole must be essentially a world -of contradictions._ We must accept contradiction and not consistency -as the fundamental and explanatory principle of life. In science -and our ordinary human problems we try to get results that are -logically consistent. This is useful, but in doing so we do not get -a full explanation. We omit in such calculations life’s negations -and incongruities. But do not inconsistencies and negations and -incongruities exist? They certainly do; everything has its opposite; -and if we will take the pains to observe the processes of thought, -we shall find that thought is fundamentally inconsistent. Why do -we usually regard thought as a self-consistent process? Because our -methods of formal logic are such. In formal logic we reason smoothly -and consistently from the premises to the conclusion. If we look -more deeply into thought, we shall find that such consistency is made -possible by ignoring the inconsistencies necessary to the very being -of thought. The question therefore is not, Can the cosmic whole be -conceived as consistent? but _What is the law of its inconsistencies?_ - -Let us consider these two principles of the Hegelian philosophy more in -detail. - -=The Cosmic Unity.= Hegel insists on the old truth that thought -is self-operating within us. Thought belongs to our nature, yet it -controls our nature. Thought develops consequences without regard -to the will and demands that contradictions shall be solved. It is -not correct to say that we think, but rather that thinking goes on -within us. Thought is the life of the world. Thought is a process which -embraces all things and projects them. Hegel emancipates thought from -all the limitations of human minds. He would make thought objective and -transform reality into thought. - -Thus Hegel conceives that this self-operating thought within us -is essentially the reality of the universe. Thought is the great -cosmic undercurrent that includes all things in its sweep. Indeed, -the universe cannot be conceived as a unity unless the universe is -conceived as a cosmic consciousness or reason. The true study of the -nature of the world is cosmic logic, and philosophy becomes in Hegel’s -hands panlogism,――universal logic. Kant restricted the categories of -thought to the human understanding; Hegel universalizes them and they -become categories of the cosmos. For if the reality of the world is -conscious reason, the categories are not only the forms of thought, -but also the modes of being. The categories are, therefore, more -comprehensive than Kant supposed. To use a term from the Middle Ages, -they are “substantial forms.” They are at one and the same time the -forms that mould thought and the stages of eternal creation. The -knowing process and the cosmic process are one and the same――one writ -small and the other writ large. They are not separate from each other, -but are the transformations of one Being. If we would study the cosmic -forms, let us study thought-forms. Logic is really ontology; the study -of the genealogy of thought is the study of Being. The real is reason, -and the reason is real. By reason Hegel does not mean intuition or -even immediate perception, which Fichte and Schelling claimed to -be the fundamental principle of the mind. The reason which Hegel is -talking about is the concept or general notion. All actuality is the -development of the general notion in a necessary and self-creative -movement. History, matter, and thought are exhibitions of the divine -Idea. “All Being is thought realized and all Becoming is a development -of thought.” - -Hegel’s philosophy is a monism of reason,――a universalized concept, in -which everything has its divine place. It is an all-embracing system, -moulding every department. Mind and matter are not aspects of a reality -which is behind them, but are the modes of that reality. The cosmic -reason is successively mind and matter, and not the principle of -mind and nature. In Schelling things proceed from the absolute. In -Hegel they are the absolute. The absolute does not exceed things, -but is wholly in them as their organic unity. Everything is under the -conceptual labor of thought. The important thing is to refer all our -complex states to the unifying cosmic concept and have one illuminating -idea. Absolute reason is absolute movement――the perpetual movement -of life. Yet this absolute reason――the reason that refuses to change -according to our likes and dislikes――is its own law and goal. The -cosmos is the law of reason and has as its end its own unfolding -self-consciousness. It is not the purpose of philosophy, according to -Hegel, to tell what the world should be, but to recognize its nature -as rational. - -We must, therefore, be careful to distinguish Hegel’s conception of -the unity of God from that other conception of Him as a quantitative, -single, and isolated unity. An isolated and single Being would imply -the existence of other isolated Beings. Such an individual would be -limited by others and dependent upon them. In technical terms sameness -with one’s self implies difference from others. A good example of the -conception of an isolated God can be found in modern theology; such -a God is a unity, but He is only the greatest of the several powers -in the universe. Such an One is not an absolute, for the One to be -absolute must be all that there is. Limitation implies something else. -_Das Wahre ist das Ganze._ - -But Hegel does not mean by the Oneness of God an aggregation of parts, -nor does he mean a system or arrangement of parts. An aggregation of -parts, however big, is never complete and cannot include all that there -is. An aggregation, even if it includes the past and the present, is -not Absolute. The temporal series points to something else to give -it meaning; and yet Reality must not stand outside any part of the -temporal series. The Absolute Reality must include the temporal series, -and yet the temporal series is not in itself Reality. Neither does -Hegel mean that Reality is a system or society of individuals, whose -knowledge and will imply one another; for such an organization of -individuals also has its meaning in something below it. - -The Absolute Reality is a spiritual individual. It is a unifying -consciousness, which is self-moving, subjective, and active. “It is -the Idea that thinks itself and is completely self-identical in its -otherness.” It cannot be abstract thought like Spinoza’s God, for -the Absolute must be actual. Nor does Hegel mean by Reality merely -life or vitality, as Haeckel has conceived it in modern times; for -these, too, are only abstract terms. “It is pure personality which -alone through the absolute dialectic encloses all within itself.” -Reality is an Absolute Cosmic Spirit engaged in its self-discovery and -self-appropriation by means of its own movement; and this movement is -revealed in art, religion, and philosophy. The Absolute is, as Shelley -makes the Earth picture man in _Prometheus Unbound_, - - “One harmonious Soul of many a soul, - Whose nature is its own divine control, - Where all things flow to all, as rivers to the sea.” - -The panorama of _history_ is the progressive knowledge of the -Absolute appearing under successively more adequate forms. _Morality_ -is the Absolute in ever enlarging social relations. _Religion_ is the -Absolute in personal relations to man. _Philosophy_ is the Absolute in -reasoned apprehension of himself. The Absolute is not to be conceived -in anthropomorphic terms, but is the world-process realized as an -individual self-consciousness. It is cosmic consciousness become more -significant. It is Being regarded as an individuality and including all -development. - -=The Cosmic Law.= If the cosmic unity is a cosmic synthetic -consciousness, it must be subject to the law of reason which is -fundamental in consciousness. The process of consciousness is an -unfolding. It is an evolution, but an evolution that is an unfolding. -Ordinarily biological evolution restricts itself to the particular -type under consideration. It does not take account of the fact that the -growth of one type means the destruction of another. It does not view -nature in a universal way and consider construction and destruction, -action and reaction, equal. It looks upon development as a process -along a tangent or like the infinite series of numbers. But the -destructions, the defeats, the reciprocal retrogressions, must be -accounted for in a truly Absolute consciousness. Evolution is not -therefore an upward advance, but a closed circle. The Absolute is not -therefore a consistency, but includes contradictions; and evolution -cannot truly be interpreted in quantitative but in qualitative -terms, as the unfolding of consciousness. The only way to include -everything in the Absolute is to think of the Absolute as coming to -a consciousness of itself. The Absolute Reality is the same at any -temporal beginning or ending. Its meaning is becoming clearer to -itself alone. Such clearness appears in the clearness with which the -categories which are the forms of any consciousness become related. -The task of philosophy is not to understand these forms together or -_seriatim_, but as moments of a unitary development. They are the links -in the development of Spirit, God, the Idea, or the Absolute. - -What is this law of spiritual circular development? What are the -categories of the cosmic Ego? How can the cosmic organism take account -of the contradictions as well as the consistencies of life? The three -necessary categories or three fundamental conceptions of the cosmic -consciousness are “to be,” “to be denied,” “to be transcended,”――Thesis, -its Antithesis, and the Synthesis of the two. In other words they -are Assertion, Contradiction, and Return-to-itself. The cosmic law -is the Law of Negativity. It is a dialectic process in the union of -contradictories, of extremes meeting, of the equality of action and -reaction. In Hegel’s hands contradiction becomes the very principle -of cosmic harmony. It is the struggle of thought to comprehend itself -by using its own contradictory and created experiences for such -comprehension. “The phenomenon is the arising and passing away which -itself does not pass away, but exists in itself. It constitutes -the movement and reality of the life of truth.” The law of human -consciousness is this: Assume the truth of any doctrine. Examine -it and you will find it in some detail asserting not only its own -contradiction or opposite, but also the relation between its assertion -and its contradiction. The truth lies in the assertion that transcends -the two opposites. The law of the cosmic consciousness is the same. Any -stage of history appears in the conscious assurance of the truth of the -principles upon which history is founded. But any such assertion by any -epoch arouses opposition; and the next stage in historical development -is the assertion of principles that synthesize the assertion of the -previous epoch and the opposition to it. The law of consciousness -drives history to oppose its own self-assertions and then to a deeper -apprehension of itself in a higher assertion, until it finds rest in -the knowledge of the Absolute Idea――_that Absolute Truth is continuous -contradiction_. Perhaps Hegel’s most notable contribution to modern -thought was his emphasis upon the tremendous power of negation and the -stimulating force in contradiction. Spiritual advance is made through -opposition. - -=Hegel’s Application of his Theory.= Formulating his theory in 1800, -Hegel spent the most of his literary career in exemplifying it. The -_Phänomenologie_ (1807) is an attempt to show the natural history of -thought in experience. He shows there the series of stages through -which the mind passes,――stages corresponding to logic, to the growth -of the individual, and to society. In the dialectic movement, -consciousness views the world in an external way until it becomes -self-conscious; then reason is evolved as a synthesis of the two: -_i. e._ of external consciousness and self-consciousness. Reason then -develops by continually turning back upon itself into an ethical, -religious, and, lastly, an absolute reason. Hegel wrote his _Logic_ -(1812) as an application of his theory to thought――regarding thought -as consisting of general concepts. Then came his _Encyclopædia_ (1816), -containing his _Philosophy of Nature_ and _Philosophy of Mind_. In -his _Philosophy of Nature_, nature is regarded as revealing the same -dialectic as logic, but in the external world. Nature, therefore, -stands to logic as its antithesis. The _Philosophy of Mind_ places -mind as the synthesis of logic and nature, and elaborates the subject -as mind, objective mind, and the synthesis of the two, or Absolute -mind. Thus the dialectic of the _Logic_ is repeated and applied to -the _Philosophy of Nature_ and the _Philosophy of Spirit_. Logic and -history are therefore parallel. The content is always the same in both; -and the development is always in logical forms. The Absolute Idea by -differentiation with itself comes to itself: (1) in Logic through Being, -Essence, and Idea; (2) in Nature through matter, individual forms, -and organism; (3) in Spirit through consciousness, self-consciousness, -reason, right, morality, social morality, art, religion, philosophy. -Logic is the Spirit _an-sich_; nature is the spirit _für-sich_; mind -is the Spirit _an-und-für-sich_. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE THING-IN-ITSELF - - -=Herbart and Schopenhauer.= The main line of development of the -critical Kantian movement was the idealism of Fichte, Schelling, -and Hegel. It was the most perfect expression of the period of German -philosophy. There were, however, so many distinct elements in the -Kantian doctrine, and these were so loosely tied together by Kant, that -one is not surprised to find many divergent lines of its subsequent -elaboration. It is difficult to classify all these later philosophers. -But most prominent in this group stood Herbart and Schopenhauer. -Herbart was a Realist, and Schopenhauer a voluntarist and pessimist. -They had a common ground and motive for their respective philosophies, -and may be placed together in the second group of the disciples of -Kant. They were allied (1) in their emphasis upon the importance of -the thing-in-itself and (2) in their strong opposition to the idealist -movement. While both published their principal writings before the -death of Hegel in 1831, both lived to the middle of the nineteenth -century and both represent the reaction against the period of idealism. -They speak more for the subsequent nineteenth century than for German -ideals and Romanticism. They represented a certain feeling of the -time that Kant’s doctrine had not received its due at the hands of -the Idealists. - -Some philosophers had remained true to Kant, but they could not get -the public ear until they were reinforced by the positive science and -historical criticism of the second quarter of the nineteenth century. -Bands of men had gathered to study Kant even while Idealism was -dominant. These were not professional philosophers, but politicians -and others engaged in active service. Kant himself in his later years -protested against his “false disciples.” Fries and Herbart, even -though pupils of Fichte, were true to Kant; and turned attention away -from idealistic construction to an examination of the psychological -foundations upon which the Kantian criticism rested. Herbart was the -most prominent of the empirical psychologists and physicists who turned -away from the speculative tendency back to Kant. Schopenhauer was the -early spokesman for that mysticism and pessimism which characterized -the nineteenth century and appeared in the music of Wagner, the -literature of Ibsen, and the philosophy of Von Hartmann and Nietzsche. - -What discredited Hegelianism in particular and philosophy in general in -the eyes of the nineteenth century was (1) the errors of Hegelianism as -to facts; (2) the patronizing tone of the Hegelians toward scientists -like Copernicus, Newton, and Lavoisier; and (3) the refusal of the -Hegelians to test hypotheses by facts. The opposition against Hegel -was against his principles, his method, and his conclusions. At -the downfall of Napoleon the age gave up the hope of reconstructing -the world either politically or philosophically. The new spirit was -scientific and positive. It tried to accept the world as it found it, -and to explain it mechanically so far as it could be done. Things are -not the creation of thought, and thought cannot change the reality of -things. We must observe and experiment, since we cannot construct. We -must restore the boundaries of Kant. Yet both Herbart and Schopenhauer -were true to the spirit that inspired German idealism, for they could -not develop their philosophy of education, psychology, or art except -upon a metaphysical background. Metaphysics was necessary. It was -as necessary a foundation to the Germans as ethics to the Greeks and -psychology to the English. - -=Johann Friedrich Herbart.=[68] As “a Kantian of the year 1828” -Herbart claimed to have carried the Kantian doctrine a step further -by disclosing its psychological grounds. He insisted that analysis -was the only true method; and he contended against Fichte that it is -impossible to deduce the theory of the world from a single principle. -An all-inclusive principle may be the conclusion, but not the premise, -of a philosophy. Thus his thought moved in exactly the opposite -direction from the monism of the Idealists and Schleiermacher, with -which he was in constant hostility. Experience proved to Herbart the -existence of independent realities; and he could not reconcile himself -with the _a priori_ doctrine of the idealists, which begins by denying -the existence of the Thing-in-Itself. On the contrary, philosophy -to Herbart had the Thing-in-Itself as its chief concern. Herbart did -not see how paradoxical his position must be――how futile must be the -results of attempting to know the unknowable. He was impressed with the -depth of the problem of existence, and he felt that, if it was to be -explained at all, it must be along scientific lines, especially in the -fields of psychology and education. The scientific method of Herbart -was mechanics; his Realism was the result of his method. - -Herbart’s programme at the beginning of his teaching at Göttingen -in 1802 was as follows: He defined philosophy in a general way by -simplifying the concepts that underlie the different sciences. Thus he -(1) reconstructed Realism, (2) restored the principle of contradiction, -and (3) established philosophy on the same basis as science. Of all the -philosophical schools in the nineteenth century the Herbartian school -was the most numerous and compact. Hegel’s attitude had driven many -thinkers into science, and the majority of them attached themselves -to Herbart for want of something better. - -=The Life and Writings of Herbart= (1776–1841). Herbart was the -typical scholar. He was a man of quiet and conservative tastes, and -his life was never disturbed by dramatic situations arising out of -contradictions in his character or environment. His days were spent in -study, lecturing, and efforts for social education. The philosophical -influences upon his thought were Leibnitz, Kant, and negatively the -Idealists. In his early life he had read Leibnitz and Kant, and before -he was eighteen he had read enough of Fichte to be repelled by his -doctrine. In 1796 he was a student at Jena. From Jena he went as tutor -to Switzerland, where he met Pestalozzi and laid the foundation of his -own philosophy. In 1802 he was called to Göttingen, where he became -full professor in 1805. In 1806 he published _Principal Points in -Metaphysics_. In 1809 he was called to Königsberg, where he published -his chief works:―― - - 1813 _Text-book of the Introduction to Philosophy_. - - 1816 _Text-book of Psychology_. - - 1822 _Possibility and Necessity of Applying Mathematics to - Psychology_. - - 1824–1825 _Psychology as a Science_. - - 1828–1829 _General Metaphysics_. - -In 1830 he was called back to Göttingen, and he died in 1841. - -=The Contradictions of Experience.= All the conceptions of practical -life are self-contradictory and are therefore vicious. This applies -not only to the conceptions of unreflecting minds, but also to those of -scientists and philosophers. To philosophize is nothing else than this: -to free our conceptions of their self-contradictions by simplifying -and revising them. We think of the world as consisting of things, -persons, relations, and laws; but such a view of the world is founded -upon the fallacy of thinking an object at the same time as one and -as many. This general fallacy takes four specific forms: inherence, -change, continuity, and selfhood. For example, it is contradictory to -think of a plant as one thing in which many qualities inhere; it is -contradictory to think of a plant as the same when it passes through -many changes; it is contradictory to think of space as continuous and -yet divided into parts; and it is contradictory to think of the self as -always the same and yet as a stream of conscious states.[69] - -=The Argument for Realism.= This inherent contradiction in human -conceptions had been a matter of observation by philosophers for many -centuries, but it had led to many divergent conclusions. The Greek -Skeptics had long ago observed it, and had concluded therefore that -there is no such thing as reality. To them thought is discredited -because the contradictions of thought are insoluble. Truth does not -exist. On the other hand Hegel developed his great dialectic system -upon the basis of these contradictions. Is thought self-contradictory? -Yes. But is thought discredited because it is self-contradictory? -By no means. It is the nature of thought to be self-contradictory, -and the highest truth is the knowledge of this. So Hegel, instead of -rejecting the conception of reality because thought is contradictory, -incorporated contradictions into his conception of the Being of the -universe. Indeed, he made contradictions the “head of the corner” of -his system. Contradiction to Hegel is cosmic law. However, in such -a conception Hegel had to give up entirely the principle upon which -formal logic was founded. This was the principle that a thing cannot -be different from itself. To Hegel the highest truth was exactly the -opposite――everything is self-contradictory. - -While Herbart agreed with the Skeptics and with Hegel that experience -is self-contradictory, he differed from them in the inference which he -drew from such contradictions. In acknowledging the contradictions of -experience Herbart did not find himself driven to either one of these -alternatives. Philosophy did not mean for him skepticism. On the other -hand he was repelled by the turn that Hegel had given to logic, and -he refused to accept reasoning as a self-contradictory process. He -returned to the demands of formal logic and restored the principle -of contradiction[70] to the place which it had occupied during the -Enlightenment. Herbart took as his _fundamental philosophical principle -that experiences are not actual when they are self-contradictory_. - -The self-contradictoriness of experiences shows that they are -phenomena and not actualities. It also shows that they have reality -as their ground. Seeming things imply realities as the ground of their -qualities; seeming occurrences imply actual relations between the -reals. Seeming is just so much an indication of Being. Consistency lies -behind phenomena. The existence of appearances must be admitted, but -appearances are appearances of something. If nothing existed, nothing -would appear to exist; and yet things are not in reality what they -appear to be. - -Herbart agreed with Kant that we can experience only phenomena. There -is also a similarity in the two theories as to the relationship between -phenomena and the thing-in-itself. The similarity is, however, only -superficial. Kant reasoned from the relativity of phenomena to the -synthetic unity of apperception, _i. e._ to consciousness in general, -while the ♦thing-in-itself was to Kant an unknowable and irreducible -remainder. To Kant phenomena pointed to consciousness rather than -to things-in-themselves. On the other hand, Herbart reasoned from -phenomena to the existence of things-in-themselves. Phenomena point -to an independent, objective reality rather than to a thinking subject. -While in Kant’s doctrine phenomena depend for their existence upon -the creative power of consciousness, to Herbart consciousness has no -creative power, but itself depends on the existence and independence -of a plurality of independent Reals. Even the categories and the forms -of space and time are not innate synthetic forms. All are the result of -the relationships among independent Reals, which are the spring of all -activity and existence. Herbart thus gave to the things-in-themselves -all the independent functions that Kant attributed to consciousness. - -=The Many Reals and Nature Phenomena.= We must remove the -contradictions of experience, if we would get at a true conception of -Reality and the meaning of phenomena. The true way is (1) to posit a -plural number of Reals, and (2) to interpret the phenomena as derived -from the relation among these Reals. - -In the first place, a multiplicity of Reals, and not a single Real, -is needed to explain the multiplicity of phenomena. Herbart’s doctrine -is therefore a pluralism. He conceives the many Reals to exist, not in -phenomenal, but in “intellectual space.” They are not subject to any -phenomenal limitations whatsoever; they may occupy one point of space -at the same time. Their nature cannot be known, but we can say that -they have “absolute position.” They cannot be limited nor negated, and -even their plurality does not mean that they limit one another. - -In the second place, Herbart assumes a multiplicity of relations. Why -do the Reals appear as phenomena? Why should the Reals appear to be -the qualities that inhere in things, the continuities of things, and -the changes of things? Herbart is not altogether satisfactory in his -explanation of this problem. It is the problem of the unity of the -manifold, which Kant could explain as due to the synthetic power of -consciousness; but such an explanation was precluded from Herbart’s -Realism. Herbart speaks of two kinds of relations. There are the actual -relations among the Reals. Although the Reals are conceived by Herbart -as simple and unchangeable, he also thinks of them as “coming and going -in intelligible space.” We can never know what the nature of these -actual relations is. The actual relations between two Reals are not -essential to either Real, nor can such relations have their basis in -the Reals. All that we can know are the seeming relations among things. -These are the relations of phenomenal space――of inherence, continuity, -and change. Herbart calls these phenomenal relations “contingent views” -(_zufallige Ansichten_), and looks upon them as having a semi-existence. -That is to say, Herbart regards the world of experience as a world -of relations which are not the actual relations among Realities, but -merely the phenomenal relations, or relations as they appear to us. - -=The Soul and Mental Phenomena.= Each Real has one single function, -viz., self-preservation; and inasmuch as the Reals “co-exist,” they -mutually disturb each other. The disturbances take the form of inner -reactions on the part of the Real in its effort at self-preservation. -Prominent among the Reals is the Soul-real. Like all the other -Reals, it is unknowable. We have, however, immediate knowledge of -its manifestations in its self-preservation among the other Reals. -Psychology is the science of the relations which the Soul-real bears -to other Reals. From the conflict of the Soul with other Reals, -mental phenomena take their rise. Consciousness is, therefore, not -the same as the Soul; it is the sum-total of the acts of the Soul in -self-preservation. Consciousness is the aggregate mental states, and is -not essential to the Soul. Nevertheless, isolated souls do not think; -they have no states of consciousness. Consciousness can arise only in -a community of Reals. - -Our knowledge consists therefore of ideas, which are the results of -the disturbance of the Soul-real by other Reals. These ideas live -within the Soul, which is merely an indifference point where they are -held together. The ideas in turn disturb and inhibit one another, and -the description of our mental life is a description of the reciprocal -tension of ideas. The tension among the ideas modifies the intensity -of each, and consciousness of an idea is proportional to its intensity. -An idea is just on the threshold of consciousness when it has the -lowest degree of intensity, and is still actual. When it drops below -that threshold it is changed into an impulse. The primary ideas are -sensations. They are not the images of things, but the primary acts of -the Soul in its attempt at self-preservation. All other mental states, -like memory, imagination, feeling, and will, are to be described as -kinds of tension of the ideas. Feeling and will are kinds of inhibitive -tension. The coming of sensations and the interplay of sensations -can be reduced to a mechanical law. Therefore, according to Herbart, -psychology is the “statics and mechanics of ideas,” and must be treated -mathematically. - -Herbart’s contribution to modern thought lies in his psychology. Modern -thought has not accepted his metaphysics, but it has been influenced -to a not inconsiderable degree by his psychology. Herbart gave the -death-blow to the old “faculty psychology,” and he placed psychology -upon the same basis as the natural sciences. The science of psychology -was not to Herbart a discussion of the nature of the soul, for that -is unknowable. It is the study of the aggregate of the contents -of consciousness. It is not a study of psychical faculties, but of -psychical elements. This reduces psychology to an atomism, like other -sciences, and thereby frees it from the influence of theology. Thus -was the so-called modern psychology made possible by Herbart. Herbart’s -theory was also of incalculable value to modern educational theory. The -conception of the influence of environment upon mental life, the theory -of the development of mental life, the natural method of “preparation, -presentation, association, systematization, and application” of an -educational subject, the theory of the correlation of subjects――all -are founded upon his psychology. Herbart’s attempt to apply mathematics -to the laws of psychological phenomena was not so fortunate. At one -time, during the nineteenth century, psychologists hoped much from -mathematics in their science; but the hope has been practically -abandoned. In recent years the demand for exactness has been met in -psycho-physics, which operates with mathematics in a different way. - -=Arthur Schopenhauer[71] and his Philosophical Relations.= Schopenhauer -is grouped with Herbart because (1) both had an especial dislike -for the idealistic development that the Kantian movement took; and -(2) both built their theories upon interpretations of the Kantian -thing-in-itself. While Herbart was a Realist, Schopenhauer was a -Mystic; which only shows how theories, seemingly very different, can -have the same source. Herbart’s Realism was an interpretation of Kant’s -thing-in-itself as many realities; while Schopenhauer’s Mysticism -was an interpretation of it as one reality. In both theories the -consciousness, and with it the reason, were conceived as derivations -of the thing-in-itself. - -The best approach to Schopenhauer’s doctrine can perhaps be made -by contrasting it with his pet aversion――the doctrine of Hegel. -Schopenhauer was to Idealism what Mephistopheles was to Faust――he -turned Romanticism into pessimism. The theory of empirical evolution, -which was to be highly developed in the nineteenth century, lay in -theoretical germ in the teaching of the immediate followers of Kant. -To Hegel the historical development of the cosmos is the struggle -of reason, which with all its essential contradictions is futilely -striving to come to itself. To Schopenhauer the history of the cosmos -is also an endless struggle, although a struggle in which all reason is -absent. Hegel could conceive the history of the cosmos as a development -worthy of investigation. Schopenhauer, on the contrary, took no -interest in history, because to him it could not be a development. To -Hegel, phenomena form an intimate part of the cosmic struggle, since -they are the content of the cosmic-reason; to Schopenhauer, phenomena -are the surface illusions of an ebullient, unreasoning Will. - -As the first theoretical pessimist of Europe, Schopenhauer expressed -for the nineteenth century one of its most essential characteristics. -He got scant recognition during his lifetime on account of the vogue -of Hegel; but to-day it is Schopenhauer, rather than Hegel, who has -a popular influence, and is widely read. This is partly on account -of his masterly literary style and partly by reason of the content of -his doctrine. The nineteenth century was carried along upon a strong -current of pessimism because of (1) industrial problems, which involved -many ethical considerations, and because of (2) its breaking away -from traditional religious ties. So long as the unbounded optimism -of Idealism prevailed, the world had little room for Schopenhauer’s -teaching; but when Realism with its limitations took hold of the -nineteenth century, then did Schopenhauer’s day of recognition come. -The popular mind has found in Schopenhauer its best philosophical -expression, and representatives of his teaching have been numerous. -Among them are Richard Wagner (1813–1883) with his music dramas; -Von Hartmann (b. 1842) with his theory of the unconscious; Nietzsche -(1844–1900) with his extreme statement of egoism――that in view of -universal evil, the only hope is in the survival of the strongest and -in the virtue of selfishness. - -=The Life and Writings of Schopenhauer= (1788–1860). Schopenhauer was -the kind of genius who is always an alien to the world of men. He lived -a long, lonely, isolated life, in which his inherited emotional and -brooding nature became more and more cynical and pessimistic. Even in -his paternal home he found himself a stranger. His father pushed him -into mercantile business, which he hated; and after the death of his -father his brilliant mother told him that he was welcome to her Weimar -home only as a visitor. The doors of all academic circles were closed -to him; and he, in commenting on it, said that he had failed to get an -academic hearing, because the German did not believe in a metaphysics -which was so expressed as to be understood. But the cause of his -isolation lay mainly in himself. He was neurasthenic and peculiar――the -subject of ill-temper, night-terrors, causeless depressions and dreads. -With the genealogy of Schopenhauer’s family on his father’s side before -us, who could wonder?――the grandmother insane, one uncle insane, one -uncle idiotic, one neurotic, and his father a suicide. Schopenhauer’s -own peculiarities were not pathological. He had a genius that blossomed -as early in his years as Hegel’s blossomed late. He wrote his two -important works before he was thirty. - -1. _Period of Education_ (1788–1813). The parents of Schopenhauer were -wealthy, and in 1803 he traveled with them in England, France, and -Holland. In 1804 he entered business, which he gave up the next year -on the death of his father. In 1809 he was busy studying the classics, -philosophy, and Hindu learning in Weimar, Göttingen, and Berlin. - -2. _Period of Literary Production_ (1813–1831). In 1813 he wrote -the _Four-fold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason_, in the -Thuringian forest, when other German young men were rallying to arms -against Napoleon. This was accepted as a doctorate thesis at Jena. -From 1814 to 1819 he lived in Dresden at work on _The World as Will -and Idea_, which is the complete exposition of his doctrine. The work -is divided into four parts: 1. Theory of Knowledge; 2. Description -of the Forms of the Will; 3. Art as a Deliverance from the Will; -4. Morality as a Deliverance from the Will. In 1820 he got a position -as Privat-docent in the University of Berlin. This was the only year -of his teaching and was an utter failure. - -3. _Period of Retirement_ (1831–1860). In 1831 he went to -Frankfort-on-the-Main to live alone and in retirement. Slowly he became -known and gathered a little circle of disciples about him. He died in -1860. - -=The Influences upon Schopenhauer’s Thought.= The principal influences -upon Schopenhauer’s thought were three: (1) Kant, from whom he got his -transcendental theory of knowledge (he always considered himself to -be Kant’s true heir); (2) Plato, from whom he got his formulation of -eternal Ideas as offering an escape from the Will; (3) the Hindus, from -whom he got his ethical-Mysticism and the confirmation of his pessimism. - -Schopenhauer is unique among the philosophers of Europe, because he -denied all for which the Enlightenment stood. Even such reactionaries -against the Enlightenment as Rousseau were a part of its essential -spirit; for the presupposition of traditional theology and philosophy -has been that existence is essentially a harmony. Schopenhauer, however, -appealed to the discordances and the sorrow of existence, and drew the -inference that fundamentally existence is irrational. For the source -of Schopenhauer’s unique teaching we have to look, therefore, farther -than modern Europe. The preceding modern European philosophers whom -we have studied, developed their philosophies from purely Occidental -sources. Schopenhauer drew from the Orient as well as from the Occident. -The Romanticists had re-discovered Orientalism. The study of the -Hindus had been interesting European scholars since the beginning of -the nineteenth century. Schopenhauer, who was introduced to Indian -philosophy by Goethe’s friend, Fr. Mayer, read the Upanishads in a -Latin translation; and they contributed much to the development of the -theory which his own emotional and cynical nature had presaged. The -Hindus had long felt that the main problem of existence is moral and -physical evil. Schopenhauer found in this teaching the statement of his -own attitude. - -He esteemed the principles of Christianity and Buddhism because their -central requirement was faith in a redeemer rather than a creator. -Christianity had no original metaphysics, but Buddhism on account of -its metaphysics had an especial importance in Schopenhauer’s eyes. It -was not only a pessimism, but a philosophy of pessimism. Our existence -is only a blind struggle for enlightenment and arises out of a flowing -chain of perennial re-births. Man needs to be freed from the illusion -of existence and released from re-birth. - -=The World as Will and the World as Idea.= In _The Four-fold Root of -the Principle of Sufficient Reason_, Schopenhauer summarizes knowledge -as, “The world is my presentation,” which is Kant’s theory of knowledge. -A conscious subject vitalizes all things. But the presentations have -no corresponding reality in the outer world. They are created by my -own subjectivity from the “principle of sufficient reason.” This has -a fourfold root: logic, cause, mathematics, and will-activity. “The -world of phenomena is my idea,” and in _The World as Will and Idea_ -Schopenhauer says, “This is a truth which holds good for everything -that lives and knows.” Man alone can reflect upon this truth. When man -comes to the realizing sense that the world is an ideal construction, -he begins to philosophize as to the nature of the reality behind -it. We remember that Herbart started from the same proposition. -However, Schopenhauer departs from Kant’s teaching in one important -respect: although he agrees with Kant that the thing-in-itself -cannot be understood by ideas or a chain of reasoning, he holds that -the thing-in-itself is knowable. The World as Idea is a world of -appearances, but we can know the thing-in-itself by intuition――by -“the look of genius.” The certainty of this first-hand or immediate -knowledge shows how poor our second-hand or mediate knowledge is. For -even reasoned or mediate knowledge in its most perfect form, viz., -science, is under the law of cause and can therefore reveal nothing -absolute. Science never gets below phenomena. - -If reason reveals only the World as Idea, what revelation does -intuition give of the thing-in-itself? Intuition reveals the -thing-in-itself to be Will. Man finds, first, the Will to be in himself. -He finds it objectified in his own body and in its members. All the -members of the body are structures of some function. Every part is the -visible expression of some desire. Hunger, speech, locomotion, have -their different instruments. Will is immediately known to us as the -reality in us. In spite of the exaltation of the reason by the modern -Enlightenment, is it not secondary to Will? - -For behold! Let me look beyond myself. The revelation of the reality -within myself illuminates the reality of the outer world. My Will -meets resistance in other things. The everlasting striving of the -Will appears in all nature. It appears in the fall of a stone, the -crystallizing of the diamond――in all the mechanical movements of matter. -“The impulse with which waters hurry to the ocean,” the persistence -of the magnet for the pole, the perennial push of vegetation, the -motivation of animals, show by an analogy stronger than any proof -that the reality of the world is fundamentally Will. All nature is in -reality the “World as Will.” This Will is always one and the same. Only -in the “World as Idea” do differences appear. Will is common to all and -is the only reality. Differences are illusions, and the reason which -exists only in man is one of those differences. - -The World as Will and the World as Idea do not stand in the relation -of cause and effect, but the World as Idea is the objectification of -the World as Will. Will is to phenomena what essence is to expression. -Will is the freedom that is within all things; and yet all things are -determined when they have the form of ideas. There is only one Will, -and so the world is in reality a unity. In essence all things are the -same――in appearance they are different. The Will has no content; it -wills to will――to live――to be actual. In the pantheism of the Will the -World as Idea is an illusion. - -=The Will as Irrational Reality.= Before Schopenhauer’s time European -mysticism had been of one general type. However universal the character -of illusory appearances had been to the European mystics, there had -always been supposed behind the veil a rational reality. Indeed, the -illusions themselves had been proof of the existence elsewhere of a -governing reason. The mediæval churchman often preached a mysticism, -and his exhortation to turn away from illusions of “the world, the -flesh, and the Devil,” was based upon the compensation to be found in -Heaven and in God. The ineffable rest in the bosom of God was reason -enough for averting the eyes from the passing show of sensuous things. -Schopenhauer now presents to the Occident another type of mysticism, -and in this there is no refuge from illusions. This conception had -long been common enough in the Orient. The _Rubáiyát_ of Omar Khayyám, -written about 1100, represents fundamentally the attitude of the -Persians of his time. “He is said to have been especially hated by the -Sufis, whose practice he ridiculed, but whose faith amounts to little -more than his own when stripped of the mysticism and formal recognition -of Islamism.” (FitzGerald.) But in Europe Schopenhauer’s doctrine was -unique, and he arrived at its construction by stripping mysticism of -all its religious elements. Faith and belief are eliminated because -they have no reality as their object. Reason produces only a world -of illusory ideas; the Will is a reality, but it is a reality which -is only a blind urgency――an instinctive blind force. The essence of -things is undirected striving. Life is the expression of the absolute -unreason of the Will. It is a Will without an object. Nature is the -objectification of the Will that perpetually creates itself and is -forever unsatisfied, unresting, and unhappy. - - “A Moment’s Halt――a momentary taste - Of Being from the Well amid the Waste―― - And Lo! the phantom Caravan has reacht - The Nothing it set out from――Oh, make haste!”[72] - -=The Misery of the World as Idea――Pessimism.= The fundamental -irrationality of the Will reveals the absolute misery of the World -as Idea. The despair of pessimism follows from the very nature of the -Will; for it must be remembered that Schopenhauer’s pessimism does not -merely mean that the appearances of life are illusory, but that reality -itself is irrational. The World as Idea is the objectification of such -misery. Willing has its source in want, and want arises from suffering. -Moreover the proportion of our wants that are satisfied is very small. -To one that is supplied there are many that are not. Furthermore, while -our desires last long, their satisfaction is short and scanty, “like -the alms thrown to a beggar that keeps him alive to-day that his misery -may be prolonged to-morrow.” Our ever-springing wants make lasting -peace impossible. The finite world is not adequate to the infinite -craving which it contains, and there is no equation between the cares -and the satisfactions of life. The greatest evil that can befall a -creature is to have been born; and this is a thousand-fold worse in -man than in any other. To live is to go from willing to attaining and -then to willing again. Attainment means new striving, and the Will -shows “the ache of the not-yet-satisfied.” After all is said and done, -satisfaction destroys not only the desire, but the satisfaction itself. -There is no meaning in life. Pain is positive; pleasure is negative, -and is merely the absence of or respite from pain. - -=The Way of Deliverance.= The relief from misery that Schopenhauer -offers is tinged with the grim despair of life itself. It is an escape -that he finds, rather than a haven――an escape that consists in giving -up all that life means. Why not, then, give up life, since it is misery -and torment? But escape is not in suicide, for the act of taking one’s -own life is the performance of the greatest act of affirmation of the -Will; and in the Buddhistic doctrine the suicidal soul only passes by -re-birth (metempsychosis) into another form of Will. Schopenhauer uses -two phrases that have become classic in the description of the two -attitudes possible to man: (1) if man is merely a part of the World -as Idea he is “affirming the Will to life”; and (2) if he seeks a way -of deliverance he “is denying the Will to life.” Suicide is an act of -affirmation of the Will to life. - -How may the Will be denied? and since we are in essence Will, the -question takes this form, How may the Will deny the Will? This question -presupposes a transcendental freedom which may be sought in two ways: -one in which the freedom is temporary and the other in which it is -permanent. - -1. The temporary deliverance of the Will may be found in artistic -contemplation (Schiller’s disinterested contemplation). Art deals -not with particular forms, but eternal types (Platonic Ideas). Art -isolates an eternal object from out the stream of the world’s changes, -and places it beyond all relations of time, place, and cause. Art not -only removes its object from the World as Idea, but it removes the -contemplator as well. The contemplating subject and the contemplated -object thus become one, and the subject is temporarily saved, for he is -elevated above all desire and pain. This, however, is possible not to -the majority of men, but only to those few possessing æsthetic fancy, -and for them only at intervals. Music is ranked by Schopenhauer as -the highest form of art,――even above poetry,――and it is not surprising -therefore that among the Schopenhauerian worshipers have been many -prominent musicians. - -2. But artistic ecstasy is too fleeting and restricted to offer lasting -deliverance from the affirmation of the Will to life and the World as -Idea. Another act of transcendental freedom will bring man into more -complete freedom; but _this act is a miracle and a mystery_, since -it is the complete transformation of our nature. This act must be -supernatural, and the church is right in calling it a new birth and -a work of grace. _Complete freedom from the Will comes through moral -deliverance._ - -This lasting escape from the Will is open to the man who appreciates -two facts: that all striving for happiness is vain; and that all men -are alike manifestations of the Will. To take this double view of life -involves the feeling of sympathy with others in their misery. Sympathy -is thus the only true moral motive and the fundamental ethical feeling. -The Will in us is moral if we feel another’s hurt as our own. But -sympathy is only a palliative, and it does not remove the cause of -disease. The misery still exists, and our sympathy has only changed its -form. Even though our sympathy goes out to the whole world, the endless -tragedy would still pass on. - -In the moral deliverance sympathy can be made complete by absolute -denial, and this will come by asceticism, mortification, and complete -eradication of want and desire. The Hindu _sannyasi_ shows the way. -This is the mystery of the Will. But Schopenhauer is not quite sure -that extreme asceticism can be made effective, since we are full of -Will. At the close of his work he says that even if we could be -completely ascetic the result would be Nothingness. “In thy Nothing I -hope to find the ALL.” Schopenhauer despairs of deliverance for himself, -but does not count it unachievable by others. Absolute deliverance even -by asceticism seems impossible to him. The only hope is that through -art and science the Will may be some time overcome. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY[73] - - -=The Return to Realism.= If the history of mankind had terminated with -the nineteenth century, the last tendency of thought to be recorded -would have been the return to Realism. The abbreviated account which -follows of the philosophy of the nineteenth century will explain and -illustrate this tendency. Before we set this forth, however, it may be -well to define again the nature of Realism. What is Realism? In general -it is the belief that reality or realities exist quite independent of -anybody’s knowing them. Moreover, Realism has the distinction of being -one of the four great types of metaphysical thought. These types are -Realism, Mysticism, Critical-rationalism, and Idealism.[74] In other -words, Realism is an attitude of mind possible to a whole civilization. -This is what is meant by a great philosophical type. The Idealism -of the period which we have just studied is such a type. Although -Germany had been the leading representative of Idealism, the spread of -philosophical and literary Idealism had been world-wide. All nations -had shared in it. But when the great events and the romancing spirit of -that period had passed, the reaction to Realism was likewise felt the -world over. It is the period of this reaction that we are briefly to -consider. - -=The Character of the Realism of the Nineteenth Century.= We have -already discussed the nature of the Realism of ancient civilization as -it appeared in Plato’s theory of Ideas; and we also have reviewed the -variation of Plato’s doctrine in mediæval times. Both ancient and -mediæval societies give expression through Plato to Realistic -conceptions――ancient society to an æsthetic Realism, mediæval to an -ecclesiastical Realism. Now in the modern period we find a still -different kind. _The Realism of the nineteenth century has been that of -natural science._ The question of the nineteenth century has been, What -degree of importance has the scientific conception of phenomena in our -total conception of life? German Idealism had taken up the natural -science of the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, and had made it a -part of a world conceived as cosmic Reason. But in the nineteenth -century the conception of the cosmic Reason and that of nature part -company. The two conceptions begin to stand in antithesis. Nature is -conceived as a reality existing in sublime independence. Democritus -wins his victory over Spinoza. There are two reasons for this: (1) The -ideas of science are expressed with a clearness and distinctness -that is in marked contrast with the ideas of German romanticism. -Natural science is formulated mathematically and demonstrated in -experience, and natural science moreover does not require the labor -of interpretation. (2) Natural science proves its usefulness, thereby -responding to the imperative needs of the economic changes of the -nineteenth century. - -In this modern period the attention of man has been riveted upon his -environment. If at any time the man of the nineteenth century has -seemed to be interested in man, the interest has really been in man’s -relation to his environment. The nineteenth century has championed -the necessary laws and mechanical structure of the outer world against -man himself. The universe has been enthroned; man has become its -serf. Human effort has become slave to its own progress. Work has been -apotheosized――work in the outer world, work with the hands. Inventions -in material things have multiplied. The nineteenth century has been -the period of steam, of electricity, of machinery, of factories, -of the enormous increase in the number and size of cities, of the -minute division of labor. Social and economic rather than metaphysical -problems have commanded attention. Not another and ideal world, but -_this present world_, is the one in which the modern man has lived. -The sciences have been specialized and man has become practical. Hegel -would have said of our time that the cosmic Reason had been so engaged -in concrete and external realities, that it had had no time to turn -within and scrutinize itself. If one wishes to turn back the leaves -of history for centuries similar to the nineteenth in their spirit, -one will find them in the third and second centuries B. C. and the -fourteenth and fifteenth of the present era. Nevertheless, there is -this to be said about modern Realism in comparison with the Realism of -preceding periods――the preceding Realism had been critical, negative -in its practical results, and usually an opposition to tradition or a -reaction from it; modern Realism has been distinguished by its positive -practical results, its ambition for supremacy, and its shaping of the -whole direction of the life of man. It has assumed control of religion, -art, and social morality, to the end of the well-being of the whole. - -=Modern Philosophy and German Idealism.= The nineteenth century -has been remarkable in the extent of its historical, literary, and -scientific productions. It has been poor in its philosophical ideas, -when we compare it with the preceding romantic movement of the German -Idealists. To be sure, there has been much philosophical literature -with a great variety of doctrine, but the many personally impressive -structures have on the whole been only the re-shaping of former thought. -It has sometimes seemed as if some of the philosophic doctrines of this -time were about to take original shape; but none have ever reached it, -with the possible exception of the doctrine of historical evolution. - -The explanation of the uncreative character of modern thought is found -in its relation to the Idealism which preceded it. The German Idealists -had conquered the world of the spirit, but in spite of all their -efforts the realm of empirical facts remained stubborn to all their -romancing. Even Hegel, the greatest among them, had not succeeded in -completely penetrating history by his dialectic law. Already in the -eighteenth century a Realistic movement had been stirring in England -and France, and had made notable achievements. So the Idealists turned -to the study of the facts of life――partly in order to subordinate them -to their Idealism, partly because a great interest had appeared in the -study of the records of the past. The origin and history of religions, -of law, of languages, of art, of institutions formed topics of study -within the Romantic circle. A remarkable list of books was published -by the Romanticists on these subjects between the date of the battle -of Waterloo (1815) and that of the death of Hegel (1831). After Hegel -died no adequate successors in speculative power came to take the place -of the old Idealistic leaders, but the interest in empirical science -was borne on by many men of genius. The study of empirical phenomena -was extended to all branches; biology and geology, which were late in -being studied historically, began to occupy the centre of the stage. -In spite of the fact that the nearness of modern philosophical theories -blinds us to their true perspective, yet even now we can see that in -comparison with the German Idealism the philosophical doctrines of the -nineteenth century are partial in their survey of the field. The whole -problem of life was before the eyes of the Idealists; the modern world -about 1831 shifted its attention to a critical scrutiny of only one -part of that problem. The philosophical problem to the Idealists was -the problem of the cosmos; the philosophical problem to the nineteenth -century was concerned only with a reëxamination of the environment of -man. - -=The Philosophical Problems of the Nineteenth Century.= In summarizing -what we have above said, we have before us a situation something as -follows. Idealism had run its course as a social attitude of mind, and -about 1831 the leaders of Idealism had died with no one to fill their -places. But within Idealism between 1815 and 1831 there had arisen -a great empirical interest in the origins of history, law, philology, -etc. Side by side with this empirical interest there had come certain -economic conditions that had called forth and rewarded genius in -natural science. - -Thus we find even before the fourth decade of the nineteenth century -two strong tendencies: (1) a new conception of the meaning of history -as an evolution from origins; and (2) a remarkable interest in -the natural sciences. The two tendencies modified each other. The -historical view of the world exercised a powerful influence upon -natural science; natural science had to be reckoned with in the writing -of history. History and natural science were drawn together, but -without producing a new philosophical conception that would include -them both. - -From the interaction of these two powerful tendencies the great variety -of philosophical interests were grouped around two general problems. -These were (1) _The problem of the functioning of the soul_; (2) _The -problem of the conception of history_. - -=1. The Problem of the Functioning of the Soul.= With the decline of -metaphysics and the reaction from speculation, psychology began to -loosen from its anchorage in philosophy. Psychology, which had been a -study of mind, now became the study of the relation of mind and body. -The tendency was strong to make psychology an empirical science, and -by the use of the methods of science to become a part of physiology -and biology. Philosophy has been a nest in which all the sciences have -been brooded. Psychology has been the last to attempt to leave the nest, -and to-day in some of our large universities it is coördinated in the -curriculum with the natural sciences. Deprived of a basis in philosophy, -psychology turned to natural science for support. Concerning the -relation of the soul to the body many solutions have been offered. - -Following the Sensationalist, Cabanis, who died in 1808, some of the -French Ideologists, so-called, concluded that the soul is everywhere -determined by physical influences, such as age, sex, temperament, -climate, etc.; some said that the mind is a result of brain activity; -some developed the conception of phrenology, according to which the -shape of the skull determines the faculties of the mind. The French -Ideologists differed widely in their interpretations, but on the -whole the basis of the movement was materialism. The hypothesis of -phrenology aroused great interest in England, but John Stuart Mill -led the movement back to Hume’s associational psychology. He conceived -the psychical and the physical states as two separate realms, and he -concluded that psychology as the study of the laws of mental states -cannot reduce mental states to physical. So Sir William Hamilton, under -the influence of Kant, championed the life of inner experience. - -Of course the materialistic challenge of the soul aroused great heat -in theological circles. The personality of God and the nature of -the soul became burning questions, and led to the dissolution of the -Hegelian school into “the right wing” and “the left wing.” Hegel had -always maintained his standing in orthodox circles as the Prussian -“State philosopher.” Those followers who composed the “right wing” -tried to interpret his doctrine in accordance with the traditional -theological conception of the soul; the “left wing” interpreted Hegel -as a pantheist, in whose doctrine the soul could not be considered -as a substance with immortality. Feuerbach followed this by inverting -Hegelianism into a nominalistic materialism, and conceived the soul -as nature “in its otherness.” In 1854, at a convention of naturalists -in Germany, the materialistic conception of the soul was found to be -widely spread among the German physicians and naturalists. But the -contradiction between the inferences of science and “the needs of -the heart” became a subject of controversy, and in 1860, under the -leadership of Kuno Fischer, the “return to Kant” was begun, which -lasted throughout the nineteenth century. - -There are two names that stand out most prominently in relation to -this controversy over the nature of the soul: they are those of Lotze -(1817–1881) and Fechner (1801–1887). They are names that were conjured -with by the generation of American scholars before the present. Lotze -regarded the mechanical necessity of nature as the form in which -the impulsive mental life of man realizes its purposes. Every soul -therefore has a life that consists essentially in purposeful relations -with other souls. And this is possible only if the lives of men are -under an all-embracing Providence. Fechner chose another way to escape -from the materialistic tendency. He regarded the soul and body as -separate and qualitatively different, although exactly corresponding, -manifestations of one unknown reality. There is a parallelism between -the mental and the physical, in which the mental phenomena are known -only to the individual perceiving them. As sensations are the surface -waves of a total individual consciousness, so the consciousnesses of -human beings are the surface waves of a universal consciousness. The -mechanical activity of nature corresponds to the consciousness of God. -We can investigate this correspondence by studying the correspondence -between our own mental states and physical states. This is the modern -well-known psychological method of psycho-physics. We can measure -psychical quantities by formulating mathematical laws of their -occurrence. - -Our present psychology has seen a development from all these earlier -explanations; but this is a matter of contemporary writing and not of -history. - -=2. The Problem of the Conception of History.= The contrast in the -Kantian teaching between nature and mind became an antagonism in the -nineteenth century. When psychology was no longer a purely mental -science, social life in its historical development at first withstood -the vigorous march of the natural science of the nineteenth century. -But the inroads of science in psychology were duplicated in the field -of sociology, and thus the problem of society was only the problem of -the soul on a larger scale. - -The first form that this problem took arose from the opposition in -France between the traditional conception of society and that of the -philosophy of the Revolution. The nineteenth century French philosophy -has, however, a religious coloring that differentiates it from that -of the Revolution. Auguste Comte[75] (1798–1857) stands as the chief -representative of this scientific reduction of society. He pushed the -doctrines of Hume and Condillac to their extreme in his positivist -system of social science. He maintained that human knowledge had -as its objects phenomena in their reciprocal relations, but that -there is nothing absolute at the basis of these phenomena. The only -absolute principle is, All is relative. There is a hierarchy of -sciences in which sociology is highest. Sociology includes all the -preceding sciences, and yet it is the original fact. The first social -phenomenon is the family. The stages of the development of society are -(1) theological, (2) metaphysical, and (3) positivistic or scientific. -All mental life in detail, and human history as a whole, are subject -to these stages of growth. In the positivistic stage mankind will be -the object of religious veneration, and the lives of great men will -be justified because they have raised the lives of common men. The -democracy to which Comte looks is one ruled by great minds, and is not -a socialism. In contrast to Comte’s theory is that of Buckle, who would -study history by discovering the mechanical laws governing society. - -While human history was thus being invaded by natural science and had -to defend its autonomy against the naturalistic principle of science, -natural science on the other hand was in the nineteenth century invaded -by the historical principle of evolution. Natural science becomes -a history. We have seen that in the Romantic circle there was great -interest in the origin and development of law, philology, art, etc. In -the beginning and middle of the nineteenth century this interest spread -to an investigation of the origin of animal life. This investigation -has been the most notable in this century, because (1) it included -in its scope the source and means of progress of the human race; and -because (2) it advanced a new conception of development. Development -now becomes evolution. Up to the nineteenth century the world was -looked upon as a graded series of types, but no type was supposed to -evolve into another. (See vol. i, pp. 180, 193; vol. ii, p. 306.) The -theory of historical evolution of the nineteenth century is notable -because it advanced the conception, based upon empirical investigation, -that types are changed into others. This theory, among those of the -century, comes the nearest to an original philosophical doctrine. -The book that became the centre of scientific interest for many years -was Darwin’s _Origin of Species_, published in 1859. The name most -prominently linked with that of Darwin is that of Herbert Spencer, -who attempted to make universal the principle of development and to -formulate its law. - -The modern theory of the historical evolution of animal life has -reinforced the mechanical principle of nature, which had its origin in -the minds of the philosophers of the Renaissance. It has antagonized -the theological doctrine of creation; it has related the animal and -man by filling in the supposably impassable gulf between them; it has -advanced the doctrine of chemical synthesis against the hylozoistic -notion of a vital principle; it has pushed forward with great assurance -its theories of transformation and equivalence of forces, and of the -action of electricity as a substitute for thought-activity; it has -shown a wonderful parsimony in giving a value to all the facts of -history which had hitherto been conceived as trivial; and on the other -hand it has reduced the conception of mighty cosmic cataclysms to -a geological series of gradual gradations. Darwin’s place in this -movement of the nineteenth century was this: he tried to show that -animal life can be explained without the aid of final causes. In other -words, the adaptation of the structure of animals can be accounted for -mechanically. The factors involved in the development of organic life -upon the earth were, according to Darwin, infinite differentiation, -adaptation, natural selection, and the survival of the fittest. - -Now at the beginning of the twentieth century there seems to be a -reaction from the scientific positivism of the last century. This has -taken the form of an extravagant mysticism, although at heart it is an -optimism and an idealism. - - - - - INDEX - - - Abbott, E. A., - _Francis Bacon_, 40 n. - Absolute Reality, - of Hegel, 314, 316, 321, 323–326, 328, 329. - _See_ Reality. - Absolutism, spirit of, - in Germany, from 1648 to 1740, 217–223; - in France, 217, 225; - destroyed by Frederick the Great and Lessing, 225, 226, 228, 229. - Æsthetic Idealism, - of Schelling, 302, 304, 307. - Agnosticism, - of Hume, 188. - Alchemists, the, - 25. - Alembert, Jean le Rond d’, - 211. - Althusius, Johannes, - 47. - America, - discovery of, 6. - Anacreonticists, the, - 224. - Analysis. - _See_ Induction. - Analytic judgments, - of Kant, 249–252. - Antinomies, - of Kant, 264, 265. - Antithesis, - of Fichte, 295; - of Hegel, 327. - _A posteriori_, - judgments, of Kant, 250–252; - material, the perceptions, 257; - principle, in ethics, 271, 272. - _A priori_, - judgments, of Kant, 250–252; - principles, categories, 257, 271, 272. - Archæus, the, - of Paracelsus, 26, 27. - Aristotle, - represented by two antagonistic schools in the Renaissance, 11. - Art, - in Schelling’s philosophy, 308; - and in Schopenhauer’s philosophy, 359. - Association of Ideas, - according to Hume, 191–193; - by law of contiguity, 192–194; - by law of resemblance, 192–196; - by law of causation, 192, 193, 196–199. - Associational Psychology, - Hobbes the father of, 56. - Associationalist Psychologists, - 141. - Astronomers, - mathematical, 32–36. - Atheistic controversy, - of Fichte, 282, 284. - Atoms, - scientific conception of, examined by Leibnitz, 119, 120, 121. - Attributes, - according to Spinoza, 95, 96. - _See_ Qualities. - Auerbach, Berthold, - _Spinoza_, 88 n. - Autobiographies, - many of them written in the Enlightenment, 137. - - - Bacon, Francis, - 31, 35; - life of, 39; - position of, in philosophy, 39–42; - his _New Atlantis_, 40–42; - the aim of, 42, 43; - his method, 43–46; - compared with Hobbes, 48; - seems to stand apart, 146. - Baldwin, J. M., - _Fragments in Philosophy_, 84 n. - Ball, W. W. R., - _History of Mathematics_, 36 n., 40 n. - Bayle, Pierre, - 203. - Beauty, - in Schelling’s philosophy, 307. - Beers, H. A., - _History of Romanticism in Eighteenth Century_, 295 n.; - _History of Romanticism in Nineteenth Century_, 295 n. - Berkeley, George, - life and writings of, 169–172; - the influences upon his thought, 172; - the purpose of, 173, 174; - general relation of, to Locke and Hume, 174, 175; - his points of agreement with Locke, 175, 176; - the negative side of his philosophy, 176–179; - denies existence of abstract ideas, 177–179; - the positive side of his philosophy, 179–183; - and Hume, compared, 183, 184. - Blackwood Classics, - _Descartes_, 70 n., 73 n. - Bodin, Jean, - 47. - Body, - relation of mind and, according to Descartes, 78–80; - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 126. - Bohn’s Libraries, - _Spinoza_, 90 n. - Brahe, Tycho, - 32, 33. - Brown, Thomas, - 202. - Browning, Robert, - _Paracelsus_, 25, 26 n. - Bruno, Giordano, - 25, 27–30, 32, 33. - Buckle, H. T., - 362. - Buffon, G. L. L. de, - 211. - Butler, Joseph, - his _Analogy of Religion_, 166. - Byron, G. G., Lord, - on Berkeley, 182. - - - Caird, E., - _Philosophy of Kant_, 236 n. - Calkins, M. W., - _Persistent Problems in Philosophy_, iv, 66 n., 73 n., 110 n. - Cambridge School, the, - 61. - Campanella, ♦Tommaso, - his _State of the Sun_, 41 n. - Cartesian argument, the, - 74, 75. - Categorical imperative, the, - of Kant, 273. - Categories, - Aristotelian and Kantian, 256, 257; - of Hegel, 323, 327. - Causation, - association of, 192, 193, 196–199. - Chubb, Thomas, - 165. - Church, - mediæval, 14; - attitude of, toward science, in the period of the Renaissance, - 19–21, 62–65; - according to Hobbes, 60. - Civilization, - of the Middle Ages, causes of the decay of, 4–7; - modern, is subjective, 15. - Classicism, - German, 224, 296. - Coleridge, S. T., - and Spinoza, 85. - Collegiants, the, - Spinoza’s acquaintance with, 87–89. - Collins, Anthony, - 165. - Columbus, Christopher, - discovers America, 6. - Comte, Auguste, - quoted on the _Encyclopædia_, 211; - his philosophy, 360. - Concomitant variations, - the name, 38 n. - Condillac, E. B. de, - 212. - Consciousness, - ultimate certainty of, according to Descartes, 70–72; - implications of, according to Descartes, 72, 73; - in Fichte’s philosophy, 286–288, 293; - in Schelling’s philosophy, 309; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 321, 322, 326, 327; - in Herbart’s philosophy, 336, 338; - in Fechner’s philosophy, 359. - Constantinople, - fall of, 6. - Constitutionalists and Political Economists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Contiguity, - association of, 192–194. - Continuity, - law of, 129. - Contradictions, - the world a world of, according to Hegel, 321, 327, 328, 335; - of experience, according to Herbart, 334, 335. - Copernicus, Nikolaus, - 7, 32–34. - Cosmic, - unity, of Hegel, 322–326; - law, of Hegel, 326–328. - Counter-Revolution, the, - 17. - Criticism, - the Enlightenment a period of, 138; - Kant’s method of, 239. - Cusanus, Nicolas (Nicolas of Cusa), - 23–25. - - - Darwin, Charles Robert, - his _Origin of Species_ formulated most fully the Evolution - movement, 3, 362. - Decentralization of Europe and of philosophy, - iv, 12, 13. - Deduction, - in the Natural Science period, 19, 21, 35; - defined, 35 n.; - use of, according to Galileo, 37; - according to Bacon, 40, 46; - according to Descartes, 70, 72, 73; - use made of, by the followers of Descartes, 81. - Deed-act, - of Fichte, 293. - Deism, - and Hume, 200; - of Voltaire, 210. - Deists, - the English, 141, 164–166; - the German, 142. - Descartes, René, - 31, 35; - compared with Hobbes, 48, 49; - the mental conflict in, 65, 66; - life and philosophical writings of, 66, 67; - the two conflicting influences upon the thought of, 67–69; - the method of, 69, 70; - the great contribution of, an absolute principle, 70; - induction, provisional doubt, ultimate certainty of consciousness, - according to, 70–72; - deduction, implications of consciousness, according to, 70, 72, 73; - his proofs of the existence of God, 73–75; - the reality of matter, according to, 75–77; - his view of the relation of God to the world, 77; - of God to matter, 77, 78; - of God to minds, 78; - of mind and body, 78–80; - influence of, 80, 81; - relation of the Occasionalists and Spinoza to, 81–84; - his influence on Spinoza, 87; - his influence on Locke, 145, 146, 152. - Determinism, - 53. - Dewing, A. S., - _Introduction to Modern Philosophy_, iv, 8 n., 332 n. - Diderot, Denis, - 211. - Differential calculus, - discovered by Leibnitz, 112, 114, 119. - Discoveries. - _See_ Inventions. - Dogmatism, - defined, 187. - Doubt, - provisional, of Descartes, 70–72. - Dualism, - Cartesian, of mind and matter, assumed in the Enlightenment, 135; - of Berkeley, 179; - formed the background of Kant’s thought, 232. - Dualists, - 174 n. - Duty, - according to Fichte, 289–295. - - - Eclecticism, - revived by Renaissance scholars, 11. - Edwards, Jonathan, - 171. - Ego, the, - of Kant, 260, 263, 264; - of Fichte, 288–295, 313; - of Schelling, 304, 309; - of Hegel, 313, 314. - Empiricism, - begun by Locke, 61; - defined, 61 n.; - in the Enlightenment, 137; - of Berkeley, 174; - of Hume, 189; - of the nineteenth century, 355–357, 361, 362. - Encyclopædists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142, 211, 212. - England, - in the Natural Science period, 17, 21, 31; - the Natural Science movement in, 46; - the Renaissance in, after Hobbes, 61; - the Enlightenment in, 140, 145–147; - comparison of the French Enlightenment with the Enlightenment - in, 204, 205; - influence of, in France, in the Enlightenment, 206, 207. - Enlightenment, the, - the second period of modern philosophy, 2, 3; - general treatment of, 132–143; - begins when the “new man” tries to understand his own nature, 132; - the practical presupposition of, 134; - the metaphysical presupposition of, 135; - the problems of, 135–140; - the period of empirical psychology, autobiographies, and - Methodism, 137; - a period of criticism, 138; - a period of remarkable changes in the political map of Europe, 139; - a comparison of, in England, France, and Germany, 140, 204, 205; - the many groups of philosophers in, 140–143; - birthplaces of influential thinkers of (map), 144; - in Great Britain, 145–147; - in France, 203–216; - the situation in, in France, 203–206; - the English influence in, in France, 206, 207; - the two periods of, in France, 207, 208; - the intellectual (Voltaire, Montesquieu, the Encyclopædists), - 208–212; - the social (Rousseau), 213–216; - in Germany, 216–229; - the introductory period (absolutism), 217–223; - sources of, 218–223; - the literary, in Germany, summary of, 223, 224; - the political (Frederick the Great), 224–226; - the course of, in Germany, 226–228; - Lessing, 228, 229. - Epicureanism, - revived by Renaissance scholars, 11. - Epistemology, - of Locke, 155, 156, 158, 160–162; - of Kant, 238, 239. - _See_ Knowledge. - Erdmann, J. E. - on the Enlightenment, 133. - Eternity, - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 105, 106. - Ethics - of Spinoza, 102–106; - of Hume, 200, 201; - of Kant, 269–277. - Eucken, Rudolf, - _Problem of Human Life_, iv, 8 n., 23 n., 40 n., 47 n., 66 n., - 84 n., 107 n., 147 n., 183 n., 203 n., ♦213 n., 236 n., - 282 n., 300 n., 315 n., 340 n., 352 n. - Evil, - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 130. - Evolution, - principle of, 3, 361, 362. - Experience, - contradictions of, according to Herbart, 334, 335. - Extension, - the essence of matter, according to Descartes, 77, 82; - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 93, 95, 96, 102. - - - Faith philosophy, - Herder a writer on, 143. - Falckenberg, Richard, - _History of Modern Philosophy_, iv, 26 n., 36 n., 47 n., 55 n., - 70 n., 73 n.; - quoted, 274, 275. - Fechner, G. T., - 359. - Feuerbach, L. A., - 358. - Fichte, J. G., - and Schelling and Hegel, what they sought, 279, 281, 312; - life and writings of, 282–285; - the influences upon his teaching, 285, 286; - his two kinds of ideas, 286; - the moral awakening, according to, 287, 288; - the central principle in his philosophy, 288–290; - the moral world of, 290–292; - God and man, in the philosophy of, 292, 293; - what a moral reality involves, according to, 293–295; - his relation to Romanticism, 299; - and Schelling, a brief comparison of, as philosophers, 303–305. - Fischer, Kuno, - _Descartes and his School_, 70 n.; - leads the “return to Kant,” 359. - FitzGerald, Edward, - his translation of the _Rubáiyát_, 347, 348. - Force, - fundamental ground of motion, according to Leibnitz, 119, 120; - identified with the metaphysical atom by Leibnitz, 121; - the word, as used by Leibnitz, squints toward physics and - psychology, 122. - France, - in the Natural Science period, 17, 21, 31; - the Enlightenment in, 140, 203–216; - the situation in, in the Enlightenment, 203–206; - the English influence in, 206, 207; - the two periods of the Enlightenment in, 207, 208; - the intellectual Enlightenment (Voltaire, Montesquieu, the - Encyclopædists) in, 208–212; - the social Enlightenment (Rousseau) in, 213–216; - absolutism in, 217. - Francke, A. H., - 220. - Frederick the Great, - 223–226. - Freedom, - Spinoza’s conception of, 104; - according to Locke, 154, 155; - Kant’s idea of, 270; - the postulate of, according to Kant, 276; - according to Fichte, 289, 290; - and God, Schelling’s philosophy of, 303; - transcendental, of Schopenhauer, 349–351. - - - Galilei, Galileo, - 31–33, 35–39. - Gama, Vasco da, - discovers all-sea route to India, 7. - Gassendi, Pierre, - was author of the introduction of Greek atomism into modern - thought, 120. - Geneva, - new religious centre in the Renaissance, 12. - Geometrical Method and its Opponents, - in the Enlightenment, 142. - German Idealism, - and modern philosophy, 355, 356. - German Idealists, - places connected with (map), 280; - treated, 278–329. - German literature, - a factor in the Enlightenment, 218, 219, 223. - German Philosophy, - the third period of modern philosophy, 3; - treatment of, 230–329; - the three characteristics of, 231, 232; - the two periods of, 232, 233. - Germany, - in the Renaissance, 12, 16, 17, 21, 31; - the Enlightenment in, 140, 216–229; - the introductory period (absolutism), 217–223; - summary of the literary Enlightenment in, 223, 224; - the political Enlightenment in (Frederick the Great), 224–226; - the course of the Enlightenment in, 226–228; - Lessing, 228, 229; - the convergence of philosophical influences in, 230, 231. - Geulincx, Arnold, - 63, 83. - Gibbon, Edward, - quoted, 138. - God, - in the philosophy of Cusanus, 25; - in Bruno’s philosophy, 28–30; - Descartes’ proofs of the existence of, 73–75; - relation of, to the world, to matter, and to minds, according - to Descartes, 77, 78; - in the philosophy of the Occasionalists, 83; - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 91–106; - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 126, 127, 130, 131; - in the Enlightenment, 135; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 181–183; - in Hume’s philosophy, 200; - in Voltaire’s philosophy, 210; - the idea of, according to Kant, 261, 265–268; - the postulate of the existence of, according to Kant, 276, 277; - in Fichte’s philosophy, 292, 293; - in Schelling’s philosophy, 300; - and freedom, Schelling’s philosophy of, 303, 312; - of the Mystic, 319; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 324; - according to Fechner, 359. - Goethe, J. W. von, - _Faust_, 25, 26 n., 85 n.; - and Spinoza, 84, 85; - describes the Enlightenment as an age of self-conceit, 134; - prominent in the Storm and Stress movement, 227; - as a Romanticist, 297–299; - and Schelling, their philosophy, 306. - Gottsched, J. C., - 219, 223, 294. - Grace, - world of. _See_ World of grace. - Great Britain, - the Enlightenment in, 145–147. - _See_ England. - Greek, - language and literature, study of, before and in the Renaissance, - 10–14, 16. - Greeks, the, - naturalism of, recovered in the Renaissance, 14. - Grotius, Hugo, - 47. - Gunpowder, - discovery of, 6. - - - Hamilton, Sir William, - 202, 358. - Hardenberg, Friedrich von (Novalis), - on Spinoza, 92; - quoted, 295. - Hartmann, K. R. E. von, - 342. - Harvey, William, - 35. - Hegel, G. W. F., - German philosophy ends with, 3; - and Fichte and Schelling, what they sought, 279, 281, 312; - comment of, on Schelling, 299; - and the culmination of Idealism, 312–314; - why he remains to-day the representative of Kant, 314, 315; - life and writings of, 315–318; - the fundamental principle of his idealism, 321, 322; - the cosmic unity of, 322–326; - the cosmic law of, 326–328; - his application of his theory, 328, 329; - basis of the opposition against, 331, 332; - and Schopenhauer, compared, 340, 341; - his philosophy, how interpreted by his followers, 358. - Heidelberg, - University of, 12. - Herbart, J. F., - as a follower of Kant, 330–332; - turns to the thing-in-itself, 332; - his programme at the beginning of his teaching, 332, 333; - life and writings of, 333, 334; - his contradictions of experience, 334; - his argument for realism, 334–336; - the many reals and nature phenomena, according to, 337, 338; - the soul and mental phenomena, according to, 338–340. - Herbert of Cherbury, - 165. - Herder, J. G. von, - brought into currency the word “humanity,” 133; - prominent in the Storm and Stress movement, 227; - true interpreter of Leibnitz, 228. - Hibben, J. G., - _Philosophy of Enlightenment_, 107 n., 119 n., 132 n., 179 n.; - quoted on Berkeley, 180. - History, - conception of, in the nineteenth century, 357, 360–363. - Hobbes, Thomas, - 31, 35, 36; - a political theorist, 47; - forerunner of modern materialism, 48, 49; - compared with Bacon, 48; - compared with Descartes, 48; - life and writings of, 49, 50; - the influences upon the thought of, 50–52; - his mission, to construct a mechanical view of the world, 52; - the fundamental principle in the teaching of, 52–54; - the method of, 54, 55; - kinds of bodies, according to, 55, 56; - his application of the mathematical theory to psychology, 56–58; - to politics, 58–60; - his _Leviathan_, 60; - and Descartes and Locke, 145, 146; - began the school of English Moralists, 167, 168. - Höffding, Harold, - _History of Modern Philosophy_, iv, 36 n., 40 n., 70 n. - Holland, - in the Natural Science period, 17, 21, 31. - Holy Roman Empire, - 217, 225. - Humanistic period, - general character of, 15–21; - long list of representatives of, 22, 23; - consideration of representatives of (Cusanus, Paracelsus, Bruno), - 23–30. - _Humanity_, - the word, brought into currency by Herder, 133. - Hume, David, - on Spinoza, 88; - the change in English intellectual interests shown in, 147; - general relation of Berkeley to, 174, 175; - a dualist, 174 n.; - life and writings of, 183–186; - compared with Berkeley, 183, 184; - influences upon the thought of, 186, 187; - his Skepticism and Phenomenalism, 187–189; - the origin of ideas, according to, 189–191; - the association of ideas, according to, 191–193; - association, by law of contiguity, 192–194; - by law of resemblance, 192–196; - association of causation, 192, 193, 196–199; - mathematics in his philosophy, 194, 195; - his conception of substance, 195, 196; - his attack on theology, 195, 196; - his attack on science, 196–199; - the extent and limits of human knowledge, according to, 199, 200; - his theory of religion and ethics, 200, 201; - the ♦skepticism of, influenced Kant, 235. - Huyghens, Christian, - 32. - - - Idea, - the world as, and as Will, according to Schopenhauer, 345–347; - the misery of the world as, according to Schopenhauer, 348, 349. - Idealism, - of Berkeley, 174; - after Kant, 278, 279; - subjective, of Fichte, 290, 304; - æsthetic, of Schelling, 302, 304, 307; - Transcendental, of Schelling, 309, 310; - Hegel and the culmination of, 312–314; - and Realism, and Mysticism, contrasted, 318–321; - Hegel’s, the fundamental principle of, 321, 322; - German, and modern philosophy, 355, 356. - Idealists, - German, treated, 279–329. - Ideas, - the proof of their truth, according to Descartes, 72; - innate, of Descartes, 73, 156; - innate, of Spinoza, 156; - innate, denied by Locke, 156, 157, 189; - innate, of Leibnitz, 157; - source of, according to Locke, 157–159; - in the philosophies of Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, 174, 175; - abstract, in Berkeley’s philosophy, 177, 179, 189; - source of, according to Berkeley, 181–183; - origin of, according to Hume, 187, 189–191; - association of, according to Hume, 191–193; - association of, by law of contiguity, 192–194; - by law of resemblance, 192–196; - Kant’s use of the term, 261; - the three, according to Kant (God, soul, totality of the universe), - 261–268; - of Fichte, 286; - neo-Platonic, in Schelling’s philosophy, 312. - Identity, - of indiscernibles, 129; - Schelling’s philosophy of, 303, 310, 311. - Ideologists, - French, 358. - Idols, the, - of Bacon, 45. - Illuminati, the, - 227. - Immortality of the soul, - the postulate of, according to Kant, 276. - Impressions, - in Hume’s philosophy, 190. - Inconsistencies, - of the world according to Hegel, 322. - Independent Philosophers, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Individual, independence of the, - in the Enlightenment, 134. - Individualism, - movement toward, in the Renaissance, 12, 15; - modern, the rise of, 132–134; - in the Enlightenment, its expression in England, France, and - Germany, 140; - in France, in the Enlightenment, 207–209; - in Germany, 219, 220, 223, 225–229; - of the Romantic movement, 296. - Induction, - in the Natural Science period, 19, 21, 35; - defined, 35 n.; - use of, according to Galileo, 37; - according to Bacon, 40, 46; - according to Descartes, 70–72. - Infinity, - Spinoza’s idea of, 94, 95, 105, 106. - Innate Ideas, - of Descartes, 73, 156; - of Spinoza, 156; - existence of, denied by Locke, 156, 157, 189; - of Leibnitz, 157. - Intellectual Enlightenment, - in France, 207–212. - Inventions, - of the Middle Ages, 6, 9; - in the nineteenth century, 354. - Italian nature philosophers, - 22. - Italy, - in the Renaissance, 10, 12, 16, 17, 21, 31. - - - James, William, - _Hibbert Journal_, 315 n.; - _Pragmatism_, 352 n. - Jena, - 233, 284, 302, 307. - Jewish Cabala, the, - 11. - Johnson, Samuel, - president of King’s College in New York, 171. - Judgments indispensable to knowledge, - according to Kant (analytic, synthetic, _a posteriori_, - _a priori_), 248–252. - - - Kant, Immanuel, - his _Critique of Pure Reason_, marks the transition from the - Enlightenment to German Philosophy, 2–4, 232; - the influences upon, 233–235; - life and writings of, 235–238; - the problem of, 238, 239; - the method of, 239, 240; - the threefold world of (subjective states, things-in-themselves, - and phenomena), 240–243; - his world of knowledge, 243–245; - place of synthesis in knowledge, according to, 245–248; - the judgments indispensable to knowledge, according to, 248–252; - proof of the validity of human knowledge, according to, 252–260; - validity of sense-perception consists in space and time, 253–255; - the validity of the understanding, 255–260; - the question of the validity of the reason, 260–262; - the idea of the soul, 261–264; - the idea of the universe, 261, 264, 265; - the idea of God, 261, 265–268; - summary of the theory of knowledge contained in the _Critique of - Pure Reason_, 268, 269; - the ethics of (the problem of the _Critique of Practical Reason_), - 269–271; - the moral law and the two questions concerning it, 271–275; - the moral postulates, 275–277; - idealism after, 278, 279; - his influence upon Fichte, 285, 286; - why Hegel remains to-day the representative of, 314, 315; - followers of (Herbart and Schopenhauer), 330–332. - Kepler, Johann, - 32–34. - Khayyám, Omar, - 347, 348. - Knowledge, - in Hobbes’s philosophy, 57; - in Descartes’s philosophy, 77; - God the only object of, according to Spinoza, 92; - Locke’s theory of, 155, 156, 158, 160–162; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 176; - in Hume’s philosophy, 187, 199, 200; - in Reid’s philosophy, 202; - Kant’s theory of, 238, 239; - Kant’s world of, 243–245; - the place of synthesis in, according to Kant, 245–248; - the judgments indispensable to, according to Kant, 248–252; - human, proof of the validity of, according to Kant, 252–262; - transcendent and transcendental, of Kant, 262; - of the soul, 262–264; - of the universe, 264, 265; - of God, 265–268; - summary of Kant’s theory of, contained in the _Critique of Pure - Reason_, 268, 269; - according to Schopenhauer, 345. - Knutzen, Martin, teacher of Kant, 234. - - - Latin, - before and in the Renaissance, 10–12. - Leibnitz, G. W. von, - 31; - as the finisher of the Renaissance and the forerunner of the - Enlightenment, 107, 108; - life and writings of, 108–112; - his early classical studies, 112, 113; - the new science and his discoveries, 113, 114; - influenced by political pressure for religious reconciliation, - 114, 115; - the method of, 115–118; - the immediate problem for (that of reconciling science and - religion), 118, 119; - the result of his examination of the principles of science, a - plurality of metaphysical substances, 119–122; - his examination of the scientific conception of motion, 119, 120; - his examination of the scientific conception of the atom, 120, 121; - his theory of monadology, 121; - the double nature of his monads, 122–125; - the two forms of his conception of the unity of the substances, - 125; - the intrinsic (philosophical) unity of his monads, 125–129; - the superimposed (theological) unity of his monads, 129–131; - his toleration compared with that of Locke, 151; - his philosophy, a source of the German Enlightenment, 220–223; - his philosophy developed and transformed by Wolff and Thomasius, - 221–223; - Lessing and Herder as interpreters of, 228; - appears, through Lessing, as a motive power in German - Enlightenment, 229. - Leibnitz-Wolffian philosophy, - 221–223, 231; - influenced Kant, 233, 234. - Lessing, G. E., - and Spinoza, connection of, 85; - helped save Germany from a political revolution, 226–228; - gave the death-blow to pedantic absolutism, 228; - German literature begins with, 228; - as interpreter of Leibnitz, 228; - his philosophy, 229. - Life, - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 128. - Locke, John, - his _Essay on the Human Understanding_ marks the transition from - the Renaissance to the Enlightenment, 2–4; - his general position in the history of philosophy, 145–147; - his life and writings, 147–150; - the sources of his thought, 150–153; - his Puritan ancestry, 150; - his training in tolerance, 150, 151; - the scientific influence on, 151, 152; - the political influence on, 152, 153; - the purpose of, 153–155; - two sides of his philosophy, 155–158; - and scholasticism, 156, 157; - his psychology, 157–160; - his epistemology, 155, 156, 158, 160–162; - his practical philosophy, 162, 163; - the influence of, 163, 164; - general relation of Berkeley to, 174, 175; - Berkeley’s points of agreement with, 175, 176. - Logic, - in the latter part of the Middle Ages, studied for its own sake, 4; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 323, 328. - London, - new religious centre in the Renaissance, 12; - becomes an intellectual centre about the time of the publication - of Locke’s _Essay_, 206. - Lotze, R. H., - 359. - Louis XIV, French King, - 203. - Louis XV, French King, - 204. - - - Macaulay, T. B., - _Essay on Bacon_, 40 n.; - on Bacon, 42. - Macchiavelli, Niccolò, - 47. - Magic, - in the Humanistic period, 18, 19, 21, 25. - Magnetic needle, - discovery of, 6, 7. - Malebranche, Nicolas de, - 63, 83. - Man, - his relation to the universe in the Renaissance, 8–18; - in the philosophy of Paracelsus, 26; - in Hobbes’s philosophy, 55, 58; - in Descartes’s philosophy, 79; - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 103; - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 126; - in Fichte’s philosophy, 292, 293; - in Schelling’s philosophy, 300, 309. - _See_ New man. - Materialism, - of Hobbes, 48, 49, 53; - defined, 53 n.; - of the nineteenth century, 358. - Mathematical Astronomers, the, - 32–36. - Mathematical law, - according to Galileo, 37, 38. - Mathematics, - in the Natural Science period, 19, 21; - modern influence of, grew from astronomical beginnings among the - Humanists, 35; - of Hobbes, 48, 54, 56–60; - of Descartes, 48, 68, 69, 74, 76; - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 90, 91, 93, 99; - differential calculus, discovered by Leibnitz, 112, 114, 119; - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 116, 122, 123; - in Hume’s philosophy, 194, 195. - Matter, - the reality of, according to Descartes, 75–77, 82; - relation of God to, according to Descartes, 77, 78; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 177, 178; - in Schelling’s philosophy, 305; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 324. - Mechanism, - of the world of Hobbes, 52–54. - Mediæval, - man, 9, 10; - science, 11; - institutions, 11; - church, 14; - world, 15. - Mendelssohn, Moses, - 221. - Metaphysics, - Cartesian, assumed in the Enlightenment, 135. - Methodism, - rise of, 137. - Middle Ages, the, - causes of the decay of the civilization of, 4–7. - Mill, J. S., - 38 n., 358. - Mind, - relation of God to, according to Descartes, 78; - relation of body and, according to Descartes, 78–80; - in the philosophy of the Occasionalists, 83; - in the philosophy of Locke, 156–162; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 176, 180; - in Hume’s philosophy, 191; - in Reid’s philosophy, 202; - of Fichte and Schelling, 304; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 324; - phenomena of, according to Herbart, 338–340. - _See_ Soul. - Modern philosophy, - comparative short time-length of, iii, iv; - difficulty in the study of, 1, 2; - periods of, 2–4; - and German idealism, 355, 356. - Modes, - of mind and matter, according to Descartes, 77; - of thought and extension, according to Spinoza, 95, 96. - Monadology, - Leibnitz’s theory of, 121. - Monads, - of Leibnitz, metaphysical atoms, 112, 114, 119, 121; - the double nature of, 122–125; - conceived as soul-atoms, 122, 123, 126; - representation the general function of, 124; - are windowless, and mirror the universe, 125, 127; - the principle of unity among, called a pre-established harmony, - 125; - the intrinsic (philosophical) unity of, 125–129; - the superimposed (theological) unity of, 129–131. - Montesquieu, C. de S. de, Baron, - 208. - Moral, - awakening, the, according to Fichte, 287, 288; - freedom, of Fichte, 289, 290; - world, of Fichte, 290–292; - reality, a, what it involves, according to Fichte, 293–295. - Moral Philosophers, - of the Enlightenment, 141. - Moralists, - English, the, 166–168. - Morality, - according to Hegel, 326. - Morals, - Kant’s theory of, 269–277. - More, Thomas, - his _Utopia_, 41 n., 47. - Morley, John, - _Diderot_, 211 n. - Motion, - in Galileo’s philosophy, 38; - in Hobbes’s philosophy, 53; - Leibnitz’s examination of the scientific conception of, 119, 120. - Music according to Schopenhauer, - 350. - Mysticism, - self-destructive, 5; - of Spinoza, 98–102; - and Realism, and Idealism, contrasted, 318–321; - of Schopenhauer, 347; - of twentieth century, 363. - Mystics, - Protestant, the, 23. - Mythology and Revelation, - Schelling’s philosophy of, 303, 311, 312. - - - Napoleon, - quoted, 231. - _Natura naturans_ and _natura naturata_, - 29, 30, 97. - Natural Religion, - the creed of, 165. - Natural Science period, the, - general facts about, 15–21; - discussion of (Galileo, Bacon, Hobbes), 31–61; - discussion of the Rationalism of, 62–131. - Naturalism, - of the Greeks, recovered in the Renaissance, 14; - in Hobbes, 53; - defined, 53 n. - Nature, - in the Natural Science period, 18; - in the philosophy of Paracelsus, 27; - in Bruno’s philosophy, 29, 30; - its two aspects, _natura naturans_ and _natura naturata_, 29, 30; - in the philosophy of the Rationalists, 63, 64; - continuity of, according to Leibnitz, 123, 126, 128, 129; - in the Enlightenment, 135; - in the philosophy of Locke, 163; - according to Kant, 248, 255, 258, 259; - as conceived by the Romanticists, 297; - Schelling’s philosophy of, 300, 304–306; - phenomena of, and the many reals, according to Herbart, 337, 338; - in Schopenhauer, 348; - how conceived, in the nineteenth century, 353; - according to Fechner, 359. - Nature philosophers, - Italian, 22. - Neo-Platonism, - dominated the Humanistic period, 17, 18, 21, 23, 25, 27–29. - New Man, - in a New Universe, phrase characterizing first period of modern - philosophy, 8–18; - the emergence of the, in the Enlightenment, 132–134. - Newton, Sir Isaac, - 32; - his physics, Kant influenced by, 234. - Nietzsche, Friedrich, - 342, 352 n. - Nineteenth century, - pessimistic, 341, 342; - the character of the realism of, 353–355; - the barrenness of the philosophy of, and German idealism, 355, 356; - the philosophical problems of, 356–362. - Nineteenth Century Philosophy, - the fourth period of modern philosophy, 3, 352–363. - Nominalism, - doctrine of, led to the dissolution of the civilization of the - Middle Ages, 6. - Noumena of Kant, - 242. - Novalis. - _See_ Hardenberg. - - - Occasionalists, the, - 63, 81; - their relation to Descartes, 81–83. - Owen, John, - Locke influenced by, 150. - Oxford University, - 12. - - - Panpsychism, - 102. - Pantheism, - defined, 94; - of Spinoza, 94–98. - Paracelsus, - 23, 25–27. - Paris, - the centre of scholastic influence in the seventeenth century, 206. - Paulsen, Friedrich, - cited, 231; - on Kant’s synthetic judgments _a priori_, 251 n. - Perceptions, - of Berkeley, 181; - of Hume, 190. - _See_ Sense-perception. - Periods of modern philosophy, - 2–4. - Pessimism, - 341, 342, 344, 348–351. - Phenomena, - the world of, according to Kant, 242–243; - realities implied by, according to Herbart, 336; - nature, and the many reals, according to Herbart, 337, 338. - Phenomenalism, - of Hume, 187–189. - “Philosopher’s stone, the,” - 25. - Philosophical Religion, - Lessing a writer on, 143. - Philosophical Revolutionists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Philosophy, - according to Hegel, 326; - modern, barren of ideas, 355; - and German Idealism, 355, 356. - Phrenology, - in the nineteenth century, 358. - Physics, - in Hobbes’s philosophy, 56; - of Descartes, 68. - _See_ Science. - Pietism, - and Leibnitz, 115; - a factor in the German Enlightenment, 219, 220, 223, 230; - influenced Kant, 233. - Pietists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Plato, - 45 n. - Platonic Academy, the, - of the Renaissance, 10. - Platonism, - reaction toward, after Hobbes, 61. - Plotinus, - 28. - Pluralism, - of Leibnitz, 119–122. - Political Economists and Constitutionalists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Political philosophers, - 23. - Politics, - according to Hobbes, 56, 58–60. - Pope, Alexander, - on Bacon, 42; - _Essay on Man_, quoted, 133. - Popular Philosophers, the, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Positivism, - Bacon the father of, in England, 43; - defined, 43 n.; - of Hume, 188, 189. - Prague, - University of, 12. - Printing, - discovery of, 6. - Protestant Mystics, the, - 23. - Prussia, - rise of, 218, 219, 223; - and Frederick the Great, 224–226. - Psychologists and related philosophers, - of the Enlightenment, 142. - Psychology, - in Hobbes’s philosophy, 56–58; - empirical, took the place of metaphysics in the Enlightenment, 137; - of Locke, 157–160; - of Hume, 189; - of Herbart, 338–340; - in the nineteenth century, 357. - _See_ Associational Psychology, Associational Psychologists. - Psycho-physical parallelism, - of Spinoza, 102. - Ptolemaic system, the, - 33. - Pyrrho, - Skeptic philosopher, 187. - - - Qualities, - primary and secondary, in Locke’s philosophy, 161; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 177, 178. - _See_ Attributes. - - - Rand, - _Modern Classical Philosophers_, iv, 40 n., 47 n., 66 n., 84 n., - 107 n., 147 n., 169 n., 183 n., 212 n., 236 n., 282 n., 300 n., - 315 n., 340 n., 352 n., 360 n. - Rationalism, - defined, 61 n.; - the nature of, 62–65; - School of, in Germany, France, and Holland, 80; - of Wolff and the Leibnitz-Wolffians, 221–223, 231. - Rationalists, the, - 31, 63–65. - _See_ Descartes, Spinoza, Leibnitz. - Realism, Mysticism, and Idealism, - contrasted, 318–321; - the argument for, according to Herbart, 334–336; - multiple, according to Herbart, 337, 338; - the return to, in the nineteenth century, 352, 353; - of the nineteenth century, the character of, 353–355. - Realistic Movement, the, - 224. - Reality, - of Fichte, 287–295; - of Realism, Mysticism, and Idealism, 320, 321; - implied by phenomena, according to Herbart, 336; - irrational, the will as, according to Schopenhauer, 347, 348. - _See_ Absolute Reality. - Reason, - the question of its validity, according to Kant, 260–262; - the will exerted from, 272, 273; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 314, 323. - Reflections in Locke’s philosophy, - 158, 159. - Reformation, Protestant, the, - 7. - Reid, Thomas, - 201, 202. - Religion, - according to Hobbes, 60; - and science, Leibnitz’s attempt to reconcile, 118, 119; - in the Enlightenment, 137; - Philosophical, Lessing a writer on, 143; - of the Deists, 164, 165; - in Hume’s philosophy, 200, 201; - according to Hegel, 326. - Religious philosophy, - of Schelling, 311, 312. - Renaissance, the, - the first period of modern philosophy, 2–4; - general character of, 8–11; - significance of, in history, 11–15; - the problem of, 14; - two periods of, 15–21; - discussion of the Humanistic period of, 22–30; - birthplaces of the chief philosophers of (map), 30; - discussion of the Natural Science period of (Galileo, Bacon, - Hobbes), 31–61; - in England after Hobbes, 61; - discussion of the Rationalism of the Natural Science period of, - 62–131. - Representation, - the general function of Leibnitz’s monads, 124, 126. - Resemblance, - association by, 192–196. - Revelation and Mythology, - Schelling’s Philosophy of, 303, 311, 312. - Revolution, - French, the, 213, 214, 216. - Revolutionists, - Philosophical, the, of the Enlightenment, 142. - Ribot, Théodule, - _German Psychology of To-day_, 332 n. - Richter, J. P., - forerunner of the literary Romanticists, 279. - Robertson, G. C., - _Hobbes_, 47 n., 66 n. - Romantic philosophers, the, - 299. - Romanticism, - 224; - the period of, 295, 296; - its meaning, 296, 297; - in philosophy, 299, 300; - takes a religious turn at beginning of eighteenth century, 311. - Romanticists, the, - 284, 285; - Goethe as one of, 297–299; - the æsthetic humanism of, 308. - Rousseau, J. J., - the most notable figure of France during the Enlightenment, 142; - his philosophy, 213–216; - his influence, 216, 230, 234, 235. - Royal Society, the, - 40. - Royce, Josiah, - _Spirit of Modern Philosophy_, iv, 84 n., 169 n., 236 n., 282 n., - 299 n., 315 n., 352 n.; - _The World and the Individual_, 352 n. - - - Salvation, - Spinoza’s doctrine of, 102–106. - Schelling, F. W. J. von, - and Fichte and Hegel, what they sought, 279, 281, 312; - the true Romantic spirit appears in, 299; - life and writings of, 300–303; - his philosophy of Nature, 300, 304–306; - his philosophy characterized, 301; - his transcendental philosophy, 302, 307–310; - his system of identity, 303, 310, 311; - and Fichte, a brief comparison of, as philosophers, 303–305; - his religious philosophy, 311, 312. - Schiller, J. C. F. von, - prominent in the Storm and Stress movement, 227; - notable example of the influence of Kant upon literature, 233; - quoted on Kant, 233; - _Artists, Letters on Æsthetic Education_, 307 n. - Schleiermacher, F. E. D., - 308, 311. - Scholasticism, - a self-destructive method, 4; - mediæval, Renaissance had to reckon with, 11; - representatives of the revival of, 22; - after Hobbes, 61; - and Locke, 156, 157. - Schopenhauer, Arthur, - his relation to Kant, 330–332; - and his philosophical relations, 340–342; - and pessimism, 341, 342, 344, 348, 349–351; - life and writings of, 342, 343; - the influences upon his thought, 343–345; - the world as will and the world as idea, 345–347; - the will as irrational reality, 347, 348; - the misery of the world as idea, 348, 349; - the way of deliverance, 349–351. - Schultze, F. A., - teacher of Kant, 233. - Science, - attitude of the Church toward, in the period of the Renaissance, - 19–21; - modern methods in, began with Galileo, 32, 37–39; - in Bacon, 40–46; - in Hobbes, 54, 58; - and religion, Leibnitz’s attempt to reconcile, 118, 119; - Hume’s attack on, 196–199; - Hume’s two classes of, 199, 200; - in the nineteenth century, 353–357; - invaded by evolution, 361. - _See_ Natural Science period, Physics. - Scientific methods, - in the Renaissance, 18, 19. - Scientists, - of the Natural Science period, 31–39, 62–65. - _See_ Descartes, Spinoza, Leibnitz. - Scottish School of Philosophy, the, - of the Enlightenment, 141, 201, 202. - Self, - idea of, in Locke’s philosophy, 159, 160; - of Kant, 260; - of Fichte, 293; - of Schelling, 309, 310. - _See_ Ego. - Sensationalism, - 53. - Sensationalists. - _See_ Sensualists. - Sensations, - of Locke, 158, 159; - of Kant, 245; - of Fichte, 290, 291; - of Herbart, 339; - of Fechner, 359. - Sense-perception, - in what its validity consists, according to Kant, 253–255. - _See_ Perceptions. - Sensualists, the, - of the Enlightenment, 141, 212. - Sentimentalist, the, - of the Enlightenment (Rousseau), 142. - Seven Years’ War, - 225. - Shaftesbury, Lord, - and Locke, 148, 152, 153. - Shelley, P. B., - _Love’s Philosophy_, 305 n.; - _Prometheus Unbound_ quoted, 325. - Skepticism, - revived by Renaissance scholars, 11; - of Hume, 187–189; - of Hume, influenced Kant, 235. - Skeptics, the, - of the Enlightenment, 141. - Social Enlightenment, - in France, 213–216. - Sociology, - according to Comte, 360. - Solipsism, - of Descartes, 72; - defined, 183. - Soul, - according to Descartes, 72, 79; - the monad of Leibnitz conceived as, 122, 123, 126; - according to Hume, 196; - the idea of the, according to Kant, 261–264; - the postulate of the immortality of, according to Kant, 276; - in Herbart’s philosophy, 338–340; - the problem of the functioning of, 357–360. - _See_ Mind. - Space and time, - knowledge possible by means of, according to Kant, 253–255. - Spencer, Herbert, - _Education_, 43 n.; - and evolution, 362. - Spener, P. J., - 220, 230. - Spinoza, Baruch de, - 31, 35; - his relation to Descartes, 81–84; - the historical place of, 84–86; - influence of his Jewish training on, 86; - his impulse from the new science, and Descartes’s influence upon, - 86, 87; - his acquaintance with the Collegiants, 87, 88; - life and philosophical writings of, 88–90; - the method of, 90, 91; - the ♦fundamental principle in his philosophy, 91, 92; - three central problems in his teaching, 93; - his pantheism, 94–98; - the mysticism of, 98–102; - his doctrine of salvation, 102–106; - summary of his teaching, 106; - his conception of the world compared with Leibnitz’s, 127; - and Kant, foci of the philosophy of the generation after Kant, - 278, 279; - his influence upon Fichte, 285. - Spirit. - _See_ Mind, Soul. - Spirituality of Fichte, - Schelling, and Hegel, 281. - Staël, Madame de, - quoted, 231. - State, the, - according to Hobbes, 55, 58–60. - States, - ideal, 41, 47. - Stephen, Leslie, - _Hobbes_, 47 n.; - _History of English Thought_, 166 n. - Stewart, Dugald, - 141, 202. - Stirling, J. H., - _Textbook to Kant_, 236 n. - Stoicism, - revived by Renaissance scholars, 11. - Storm and Stress movement, - 224, 227, 229, 295, 296. - “Strife of methods, the,” - 19, 35. - “Struggle of traditions, the,” - 17, 18. - Subjective idealism, - of Fichte, 290, 304. - Subjective states, - the world of, according to Kant, 240–242. - Subjectivism, - Renaissance marked by the rise of, 14, 15. - Substance, - in Descartes’s philosophy, 77, 81, 82; - in the philosophy of the Occasionalists and Spinoza, 81–84, - 91–95, 101; - in Leibnitz’s philosophy, 119–122; - in Locke’s philosophy, 160–162; - according to Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, 174, 175; - in Berkeley’s philosophy, 176, 178; - Hume’s conception of, 195, 196, - Sufficient reason, - law of, 129. - Suicide, - according to Schopenhauer, 349. - Sympathy, - according to Schopenhauer, 350, 351. - Synthesis, - according, to Kant, 244, 245; - the place of, in knowledge, according to Kant, 245–248; - of Fichte, 295; - of Hegel, 327. - _See_ Deduction. - Synthetic, - judgments of Kant, 249–252. - - - Taurellus, - 11. - Tetens, J. N., - 221. - Theology, - Hume’s attack on, 195, 196. - Thesis, - of Fichte, 295; - of Hegel, 327. - Things-in-themselves, - the world of, according to Kant, 240–242, 336; - how treated by Fichte, 290, 291; - how treated by Schelling, 300; - the philosophy of, 330–351; - the chief concern of philosophy, according to Herbart, 332; - implied by phenomena, according to Herbart, 336; - basis of Schopenhauer’s philosophy, 340; - according to Schopenhauer, 345, 346. - Thirty Years’ War, - 217. - Thomasius, Christian, - 142, 221. - Thought, - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 95, 101, 102; - in Hegel’s philosophy, 322, 335. - Time and space, - knowledge possible by means of, according to Kant, 253–255. - Tindal, Matthew, - 165. - Toland, John, - 165. - Transcendental, - method, of Kant, 239, 240; - philosophy, of Schelling, 302, 307–310; - freedom, of Schopenhauer, 349–351. - Trent, - Council of, 16, 20. - Truth, - standard of, in the Middle Ages, self-destructive, 5; - criterion of, according to Descartes, 72. - Truths, - of Leibnitz, 116, 117. - Tschirnhausen, E. W. von, - 221. - Turner, William, - _History of Philosophy_, 73 n. - - - Ueberweg, Friedrich, - _History of Philosophy_, iv, 209 n. - Understanding, - in what its validity consists, according to Kant, 255–260. - Unity, - of Leibnitz, 122; - a preëstablished harmony, 125; - the intrinsic (philosophical), 125–129; - the superimposed (theological), 129–131; - cosmic, of Hegel, 322–326. - Universal, - concrete and abstract, 99, 100. - Universe, - Man’s relation to, in the Renaissance, 8–18; - according to the Ptolemaic system, 33; - according to the Copernican system, 34; - the idea of the, according to Kant, 261, 264, 265; - according to Schelling, 304, 311. - _See_ New Man. - Universities, - in the Renaissance, 12; - towns containing (map), 280. - Utilitarianism, - 43. - Utopias, - 41, 47. - Van der Ende, - his influence on Spinoza, 87, 89. - Vienna, - University of, 12. - Voltaire, F. M. A. de, - 208–210, 223. - - - Wagner, Richard, - 342. - Watson, John, - _Hedonistic Theories_, 47 n. - Weber, E. A., - _History of Philosophy_, iv, 70 n., 73 n., 107 n., 332 n., 352 n. - Weimar, - 233, 307. - Wernaer, R. M., - _Romanticism and the Romantic School in Germany_, 300 n. - Will, the, - Kant’s theory of, 269–277; - the world as, and as idea, according to Schopenhauer, 345–347; - as irrational reality, according to Schopenhauer, 347, 348; - suicide and, according to Schopenhauer, 349; - the denial of, according to Schopenhauer, 349–351. - Windelband, Wilhelm, - _History of Philosophy_, iv, 8 n., 23 n., 30 n., 47 n., 70 n., - 119 n., 132 n., 183 n., 230 n., 236 n., 278 n., 282 n.; - on Kant’s synthetic judgments _a priori_, 251 n. - Wittenberg, - new religious centre in the Renaissance, 12. - _Wolfenbüttel Fragments_, - 85. - Wolff, Christian, - 221, 222, 228. - Wolffians, the, - 142. - World, - of grace, 63, 64, 76, 83; - relation of God to, according to Descartes, 77; - in Spinoza’s philosophy, 97; - the, Leibnitz’s conception of, as the best possible, 130; - according to Goethe, 298; - in terms of consciousness, 321; - a world of contradictions, 321; - as will and as idea, according to Schopenhauer, 345–347; - as idea, the misery of, according to Schopenhauer, 348, 349. - _See_ Universe. - - - - - Footnotes. - - - 1 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 303–321; - Windelband, _History of Philosophy_, pp. 348–351; - Dewing, _Introduction to Modern Philosophy_, pp. 52–54. - - 2 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 321–331; - Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 352–354. - - 3 – Read Falckenberg, _Hist. of Modern Phil._, pp. 27–28; - Browning, _Paracelsus_; Goethe, _Faust_, lines 1–165. - - 4 – These two phrases will be found again in the philosophy - of Spinoza. Nature is conceived as having two aspects: one - is _natura naturans_, or God as the animating principle - of nature; the other is _natura naturata_, or the world as - materialized forms or effects. - - 5 – Read Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 378–379. - - 6 – Induction and deduction are methods of reasoning. - Induction is the method of beginning with particular cases - and inferring from them a general conclusion. Deduction is - the opposite method of reasoning. - - 7 – Read Höffding, _Hist. of Phil._, vol. i, p. 175; Ball, - _Hist. of Math._, pp. 249 ff.; Falckenberg, _Hist. of - Mod. Phil._, pp. 59 ff. - - 8 – An example used by Galileo is the law of the velocity of - falling bodies in empty space. - - 9 – The name, “concomitant variations,” was later given by - John Stuart Mill. - - 10 – Read Ball, _Hist. of Math._, pp. 253 ff.; Höffding, _Hist. - of Mod. Phil._, vol. i, pp. 184–186; Macaulay, _Essay on - Bacon_; Bacon, _Essays_,――_Studies, Truth, Friendship, - Simulation, and Dissimulation_; Abbott, _Francis Bacon_; - Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 336–344; Rand, - _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 24–56. - - 11 – Bacon wrote his _New Atlantis_ in 1623. The same year - Campanella wrote his _State of the Sun_, and the preceding - year Thomas More wrote his _Utopia_. - - 12 – Utilitarianism regards adaptation to general happiness - as the ideal of society. Positivism, broadly used, is - that philosophy which limits the scope of thought to - the observation of facts, although the observations are - inferior to the facts. The data and methods of positivism - are the same as those of natural science, and opposed to - the _a priori_ methods of metaphysics. - - 13 – In this connection read Herbert Spencer, _Education_. - - 14 – Bacon chooses the word Idols, because it is the same as - the Greek word for false forms (eidola, εἴδολα). - - 15 – Bacon is here alluding to Plato’s myth of the cave. Read - Plato, _Republic_ (Jowett’s trans.), Bk. VII, 514 A–520 E. - - 16 – Bacon is satirical here and is likening philosophical - systems to stage-plays. - - 17 – But see the contradiction in the theory of Hobbes. - - 18 – Read Robertson, _Hobbes_ (Blackwood’s _Phil. Classics_), - pp. 204–206; Falckenberg, _Hist. Mod. Phil._, pp. 71–72; - _Encyclopædia Britannica_, article, “Hobbes”; Leslie - Stephen, _Hobbes_; Watson, _Hedonistic Theories_, pp. - 73–94; Turner, _Hist. Phil._, pp. 443–446; Windelband, - _Hist. Phil._, p. 389; Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, - pp. 359–360; Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. - 57–69, 80–84. - - 19 – See also the ideal States of Campanella and Bacon, p. 41. - - 20 – The theory that the assumption of extended, impenetrable, - eternal, and moving bodies explains the universe. - - 21 – The theory that all knowledge originates in sensations; - that all complex mental states (like memory, reason, etc.) - are only combinations of elementary sensations. - - 22 – The theory that between alternative courses of conduct - the choice decided upon is fully accounted for by - psychological and other pre-conditions. - - 23 – The theory sometimes meaning materialism, sometimes - positivism, but sometimes, as here, meaning that man in - all his operations is a product of his environment. - - 24 – Read Falckenberg, _Hist. Mod. Phil._, p. 72, for his - quotation from Grimm’s criticism of the irreconcilable - contradiction of the empirical and the rational in Hobbes. - - 25 – Empiricism and Rationalism have reference to the source - of truth. Empiricism is the theory that truth is to be - found in immediate sense experience. The opposite theory - is Rationalism, which declares that the reason is an - independent source of knowledge, distinct from sensation, - and having a higher authority. - - 26 – Read Robertson, _Hobbes_ (Blackwood Phil. Classics), p. 40; - Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 117–147; Eucken, - _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 351–362; Calkins, _Persistent - Problems_, pp. 459–463. - - 27 – Read Descartes, _Method_, _Meditations_, for the dramatic - struggle of his inner life; Falckenberg, _Hist. Modern - Phil._, pp. 86–88; Fischer, _Descartes and his School_, - p. 199; Blackwood Classics, _Descartes_, pp. 144–149; - Windelband, _Hist. Phil._, pp. 389 ff.; Höffding, _Hist. - Modern Phil._, pp. 219 ff.; Weber, _Hist. Phil._, pp. 306 - ff., for an opposing opinion about the place of Descartes. - - 28 – Read Falckenberg, _Hist. of Modern Phil._, pp. 92–94; - Blackwood’s Classics, _Descartes_, pp. 151–153; Weber, - _Hist. of Phil._, p. 310; Calkins, _Persistent Problems - in Philosophy_, pp. 25–30; Turner, _Hist. of Phil._, - pp. 451 f., which presents Descartes’ arguments as reduced - to two. - - 29 – Read Royce, _Spirit of Modern Phil._, chap. iii; Baldwin, - _Fragments in Philosophy_, pp. 24–42; Rand, _Modern - Classical Philosophers_, pp. 148–166; Eucken, _Problem of - Human Life_, pp. 362–380. - - 30 – See page 279. Read Goethe, _Geheimnisse_, in this connection. - - 31 – Read Auerbach, _Spinoza_, an historical romance. - - 32 – Read _Bohn’s Libraries, Spinoza_, vol. ii, pp. 275 ff., - for Spinoza’s interesting correspondence with notable men. - - 33 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 199–214; - Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 388–405; Weber, - _History of Philosophy_, pp. 343–369; Hibben, _Phil. of - Enlightenment_, pp. 161–193. - - 34 – A good selection of Leibnitz’s works for the student - to read is: _Discourse on Metaphysics_ (1690), _Letters - to Arnauld_, _Monadology_ (1714), _New System of - Nature_ (1695), _Principles of Nature and Grace_ (1714), - _Introduction to New Essays_ (1704), and the _Theodicy_ - (1710). See Calkins, _Persistent Problems in Phil._, - p. 74, note. - - 35 – Read Hibben, _Phil. of Enlightenment_, ch. vii; Windelband, - _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 420–425. - - 36 – Read Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 437–440, 447–449, - 500–502; Hibben, _Phil. of Enlightenment_, pp. 3–13, 18–20. - - 37 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 215–217, - 248–262; Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 380–388. - - 38 – See _Essay_, introductory epistle to the reader. - - 39 – Read Leslie Stephen, _History of English Thought_, vol. i, - pp. 86–88. - - 40 – Read Royce, _Spirit of Modern Philosophy_, p. 86; Rand, - _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 263–277. - - 41 – Berkeley and Hume were really also dualists, like Locke - and all other Enlighteners. The ideas were substituted by - them for material substances. As objects of knowledge the - ideas were antithetical to the knowing process. Hume tried - to overcome this dualism, but he was not successful in his - attempt. - - 42 – Read Hibben, _The Philosophy of the Enlightenment_, - chap. iii. - - 43 – Hibben, _Phil. of Enlightenment_, p. 64. - - 44 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 326–342; - Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 420–422; Windelband, - _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 472–476. - - 45 – Causal events are to Hume merely _alleged_ matters of fact. - - 46 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 415–420. - - 47 – Voltaire’s _Letters on the English_ were written in 1728, - published first in London, and appeared in France in 1734. - His _Elements of the Philosophy of Newton_ was published - in Amsterdam in 1738, but was not allowed to be published - in France until 1741. - - 48 – Read Ueberweg, _Hist. of Phil._, vol. ii, pp. 124–125. - - 49 – Read Morley, _Diderot_, vol. i, ch. v, pp. 113–171. - - 50 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 347–375. - - 51 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 423–433. - - 52 – In a real sense the German Enlightenment has never come - to an end. Classicism and the Romantic movement were a - continuation of it. - - 53 – Read Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 529–531. - - 54 – Read the quotation from Heine in E. Caird, _Phil. of Kant_, - vol. i, p. 63; Stirling, _Textbook to Kant_, Biographical - Sketch; Royce, _Spirit of Modern Philosophy_, chap. iv; - Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 532–534; Rand, _Modern - Classical Philosophers_, pp. 376–405, 420–424; Eucken, - _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 435–452. - - 55 – The word “world” is used for lack of a better. The reader - is, however, again reminded that Kant’s problem is one of - epistemology and not of metaphysics. - - 56 – Paulsen says (_Immanuel Kant, His Life and Teaching_, - p. 135) that this formula of synthetic judgments _a - priori_ appears only in the introduction to the _Critique_ - and in Kant’s later writings, and it would have been no - misfortune if Kant had never discovered it. But Windelband - (_Hist. of Phil._, p. 533, n. 2) says, “No one who - does not make this clear to himself has any hope of - understanding Kant.” - - 57 – Quoted from Falckenberg, _Hist. of Modern Phil._, p. 387. - This is a paraphrase of some of Schiller’s verses in _The - Philosophers_, a satirical poem of philosophical theories. - - 58 – Kant’s theory of Beauty, discussed in his _Critique - of Judgment_, through which he tries to reconcile the - antagonism of knowledge and morality, is omitted here. - - 59 – Read Windelband, _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 568–569. - - 60 – Read Royce, _Spirit of Modern Phil._, chap. v; Eucken, - _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 486–490; Rand, _Modern - Classical Philosophers_, pp. 486–496, 516–535; Windelband, - _Hist. of Phil._, pp. 579–581. - - 61 – Read Beers, _History of Romanticism in Eighteenth Century_, - pp. 1–25; Beers, _History of Romanticism in Nineteenth - Century_, pp. 132–139. - - 62 – Read Royce, _Spirit of Modern Philosophy_, ch. vi. - - 63 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 457–464, 490–494; - Wernaer, _Romanticism and the Romantic School in Germany_, - pp. 132–143; Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, - pp. 535–568. - - 64 – Read Shelley, _Love’s Philosophy_. - - 65 – Read Schiller, _Artists; Letters on Æsthetic Education_. - - 66 – F. E. D. Schleiermacher, b. 1768; educated in the - Herrnhuten institutions and at the University of Halle; - in 1796 preacher at the Berlin Charité; in 1802 court - preacher at Stolpe; in 1804 professor extraordinary at - Halle; in 1809 preacher at a church in Berlin; in 1810 - professor in Berlin University. - - 67 – Read Royce, _Spirit of Modern Phil._, chap. vii; James, - _Hibbert Journal_, 1908–09, pp. 63 ff.; Eucken, _Problem - of Human Life_, pp. 494–507; Rand, _Modern Classical - Philosophers_, pp. 569–574, 583–592, 614–628. - - 68 – Read Ribot, _German Psychology of To-day_, pp. 24–67; - Weber, _History of Philosophy_, pp. 536–543; Dewing, - _Introduction to Modern Philosophy_, pp. 230–235. - - 69 – A discussion of these contradictions can be found in any - text-book in metaphysics. - - 70 – The “principle of contradiction” in logic is the - prohibition to commit contradiction. - - 71 – Read Eucken, _Problem of Human Life_, pp. 510–518; Rand, - _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 629–671. - - 72 – Read _Rubáiyát_ of Omar Khayyám, FitzGerald’s translation, - 4th ed., quatrains xlvii–lxxiii; Goethe, _Sorrows of - Werther_, as an example of pessimism due mainly to - environment. - - 73 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 703–708; - Weber, _Hist. of Phil._, §§ 69, 70; Eucken, _Problem of - Human Life_, pp. 518–523, 524–553, 559–573; Nietzsche, - _Also Sprach Zarathustra_; James, _Pragmatism_, Lectures - I, IV, VII; Royce, _Spirit of Mod. Phil._, Lecture IX. - - 74 – Royce, _The World and the Individual_, vol. i, pp. 60 f. - - 75 – Read Rand, _Modern Classical Philosophers_, pp. 672–689. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes. - - -The following corrections have been made in the text: - - Page xiv: - Sentence starting: In what does the Validity.... - – ‘Persception’ replaced with ‘Perception’ - (Validity of Sense-Perception consist?) - - Page 8: - Sentence starting: The fusion did not result.... - – ‘homogenous’ replaced with ‘homogeneous’ - (in a homogeneous whole,) - - Page 85: - Sentence starting: It formed the background.... - – ‘Wolffenbüttel’ replaced with ‘Wolfenbüttel’ - (Wolfenbüttel Fragments) - - Page 114: - Sentence starting: He was led to this conclusion.... - – ‘Leeuwenhook’ replaced with ‘Leeuwenhoek’ - (of Swammerdam and Leeuwenhoek) - - Page 174: - Sentence starting: Berkeley started out by.... - – ‘speculalation’ replaced with ‘speculation’ - (against scholastic speculation and abstraction;) - - Page 296: - Sentence starting: Some of the literary names.... - – ‘Wackenrode’ replaced with ‘Wackenroder’ - (Tieck, Wackenroder, Novalis,) - - Page 336: - Sentence starting: Kant reasoned from the relativity.... - – ‘thing-it-itself’ replaced with ‘thing-in-itself’ - (while the thing-in-itself was) - - Index Campanella: - – ‘Tommasso’ replaced with ‘Tommaso’ - (Campanella, Tommaso) - - Index Eucken: - – ‘223’ replaced with ‘213’ - (213 n.) - - Index Hume: - – ‘scepticism’ replaced with ‘skepticism’ - (the skepticism of, influenced Kant) - - Index Spinoza: - – ‘fundanental’ replaced with ‘fundamental’ - (the fundamental principle in) - - Index Unity: - – ‘preëstabished’ replaced with ‘preëstablished’ - (a preëstablished harmony) - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Beginner's History of Philosophy, -Vol 2, by Herbert Ernest Cushman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEGINNER'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY, VOL 2 *** - -***** This file should be named 62663-0.txt or 62663-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/6/6/62663/ - -Produced by Richard Hulse and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |