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UNIVERSITY    OF    ILLINOIS    LIBRARY    AT    URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


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A    H1STOEY    OF 
THE    PEOBLEMS    OF    PHILOSOPHY 


PART  II 
ETHICS 


A    HISTORY    OF    THE 
PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 


PAUL   JANET       &  GABRIEL   SEAILLES 

Membre  de  L'Institut  Docteur  es  Lettres 

Professeur  a  la  Faculte  des  Lettres  Maitre  de  Conferences  a  la  Faculte 
de  Paris  des  Lettres  de  Paris 


TRANSLATED  BY 

ADA    MONAHAN 

EDITED  BY 

HENKY    JONES,    LL.D. 

Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Glasgow 


VOL.  II. 


MACMILLAN    AND    CO.,    LIMITED 

NEW   YORK  :    THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1902 


GLASGOW  :    PKINTED   AT   THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS 
BY    ROBERT   MACLEHOSE   AND  CO. 


CONTENTS 

PART  IL— ETHICS. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.     THE  ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN  ANCIENT  TIMES,  1 

II.     THE  ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN  MODERN  TIMES,  47 

PART  HI.— METAPHYSICS. 

I.     SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE,  -        -  93 

II.     MATTER,  146 

III.  MIND,   -  180 

IV.  THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND,    -  -      214 

PART  IV.— THEODICY. 

I.     THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT   TIMES  AND  IN  THE 

MIDDLE  AGES,      --------       247 

II.     THE  .RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN  MODERN  TIMES,       -  -        -       291 

III.     THE  PROBLEM  OF  A  FUTURE  LIFE, 351 


95243 


INDEX  TO   PROPER   NAMES 


ABELARD  (1079-1142). — Ethics,  49, 50  ;  the  world-soul,  195  (see  Scholastics). 

^ENESIDEMUS  (first  century). — Scepticism,  110,  111. 

AGRIPPA  THE  SCEPTIC  (first  century). — Scepticism,  110,  111. 

ALBERTUS  MAGNUS  (1193-1280  A.D.). — On  conscience,  50,  51  ;  the  soul, 
194,  195  ;  matter  and  mind,  229  ;  on  the  existence  of  God,  275  (see 
Scholastics). 

ALEXANDER  OF  APHRODISIAS  (flourished  circa  200  A.D.). — The  soul,  196. 

AMALRIC  OF  BENA  (died  circa  1206). — Pantheism,  288. 

AMMONIUS  SACCAs(czVca  175-250  A.D.). — Neo-platonic  theory  of  the  soul,  191. 

ANAXAGORAS  (born  circa  500  B.C.). — Scepticism  and  certitude,  95  ;  matter, 
149  ;  mind,  183  ;  matter  and  mind,  216  ;  theology,  250. 

ANAXIMANDER  (born  611  B.C.). — The  Infinite,  147. 

ANAXIMENES  (disciple  of  Anaximander). — The  "air,"  147,  214. 

ANSELM,  ST.,  OF  CANTERBURY  (1033-1109). — Faith  and  reason,  117  ;  proofs 
of  the  existence  of  God  :  the  ontological  argument,  276-278. 

ANTIOCHUS  OF  ASCALON  (pupil  of  Philo  of  Larissa  and  a  teacher  of  Cicero). 
— Eclecticism,  109. 

ANTISTHENES  (born  444  B.C.). — Ethics,  29. 

AQUINAS,  ST.  THOMAS  (1225-1274). — Ethics,  51  ;  faith  and  reason,  117; 
the  soul,  195,  196  ;  the  soul  and  the  body,  229  ;  proofs  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God,  275  ;  criticism  of  the  ontological  argument,  278  ;  proof 
a  contingentia  mundi,  279,  280  ;  proof  of  the  first  mover,  280  ;  proof 
of  final  causes,  280  ;  the  nature  of  God  :  creation  and  Providence, 
281-286. 

ARCESILAUS  (315-241  B.C.). — Probabilism,  105. 

ARISTIPPUS  OF  GYRENE  (born  circa  435  B.C.). — Ethics,  24. 

ARISTON  OF  CHIOS  (flourished  circa  260  B.C.). — Ethics,  32. 

ARISTOPHANES  (born  circa  444  B.C.). — Theogony,  247. 

ARISTOTLE  (384-322  B.C.). — Ethics  :  happiness  and  virtue,  16  ;  justice,  20, 
21  ;  friendship,  21,  22  ;  the  contemplative  life.  22,  23  :  impossibility  of 
proving  everything  :  intuitive  certainty  of  principles,  99  ;  theory  of 
matter,  152-154  ;  the  soul  the  formal,  efficient,  and  final  cause  of  the 
body,  185  ;  matter  and  form,  219,  220  ;  the  soul  and  the  body,  221  ; 
the  irvevfjM,  222  ;  the  potential  and  the  actual,  258-262  ;  proof  of  the 
first  mover,  263,  264 ;  the  future  life :  impersonal  immortality,  255-259. 


viii  INDEX  TO   PEOPEB  NAMES 

AUGUSTINE,  ST.,  or  HIPPO  (354-430).— Faith,  religious  and  rational,  115, 
116  ;  theory  of  the  soul,  194  ;  the  soul  and  the  body,  228  ;  Christian 
and  Platonic  theology,  271  ;  creation  and  the  Trinity,  272-274. 

AVERROES  (1125-1198  A.D.). — The  active  intellect  impersonal  and  im- 
mortal, 196. 

BACON,  FRANCIS,  Lord  Verulam  (1561-1626). — On  matter,  159. 

BAYLE  (1647-1706). — Eeligious  scepticism,  171  ;  objections  against  op- 
timism, 324-329. 

BENTHAM  (1747-1832). — Moral  arithmetic,  74-76. 

BERKELEY,  GEORGE  (1685-1753). — On  sensible  certainty,  127-129;  denies 
the  existence  of  matter,  170. 

BERNARD  OF  CHARTRES  (1070-1160).— The  world-soul,  194. 

BERNARD,  SAINT  (1091-1153).— Mysticism,  51,  52. 

BONNET,  CHARLES,  of  Geneva  (1720-1793).— Palingenesia,  330,  369. 

BOSSUET  (1627-1704).— Proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  298,  300. 

BROCHARD. — On  Pyrrho,  105. 

BRUNO,  GIORDANO  (1548-1600).— Theory  of  matter,  158. 

BUCHNER,  Louis  (1824-1899). — Force  and  matter,  178  ;  atheism,  338. 

CARNEADES  (214-129  B.C.). — Probabilism,  105-107. 

CARO,  E.  M.  (1826-1887).— His  Idte  de  Dim,  348. 

CARRAU,  LUDOVIC. — His  work  on  the  proofs  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  in  the  Phaedo  referred  to,  354. 

C^SALPINUS  (1509-1603).— Theory  of  matter,  196. 

CHARRON  (1541-1603).— Scepticism,  118. 

CHRYSIPPUS  (282-209  B.C.)— Natural  law,  34 ;  the  fear  of  the  gods,  36, 37  ; 
the  human  soul,  188;  vindication  of  Providence,  267;  immortality, 
360. 

CICERO  (106-43  B.C.).— Quoted  33,  34,  35  ;  ethics,  38,  39  ;  eclecticism, 
109,  110. 

CLARKE,  SAMUEL  (1675-1729). — The  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  301. 

CLEANTHES  (a  pupil  of  Zeno  the  Stoic). — Ethics  :  Hymn  quoted,  35,  36  ; 
the  seat  of  the  soul,  224  ;  proof  of  the  existence  of  God,  265  ;  reli- 
gious feeling,  268  ;  immortality,  360. 

COMTE,  AUGUSTS  (1798-1857). — Positivism  and  certitude,  141  ;  the  law 
of  the  three  states  and  the  religion  of  humanity,  340,  342  ;  future 
existence  reduced  to  the  worship  of  great  men,  373. 

COUSIN,  VICTOR  (1792-1867). — Spiritualistic  theism,  344  ;  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  372. 

CRATES  OF  THEBES  (pupil  of  Diogenes  the  Cynic). — Ethics,  29. 

CUDWORTH  (1617-1688).— Theory  of  the  Plastic  medium,  241. 

DAVID  OF  DINANT  (flourished  circa  200). — Pantheism,  287,  289. 

DEMOCRITUS  (born  circa  460  B.C.). — Ethics,  3  ;  matter,  149, 150  ;  mind,  182. 

DESCARTES  (1596-1650).— Ethics,  52-58  ;  theory  of  certitude,  118-121  ; 
matter  and  extension,  159-162  ;  the  soul,  196,  197  ;  extension  and 
thought  :  the  soul  and  the  body,  230,  233  ;  proofs  of  the  existence  of 
God,  292-297  ;  God  the  cause  of  Himself,  307-309  ;  God  the  Creator 


INDEX  TO  PROPER  NAMES  ix 

of  the  eternal  truths,  308  ;  doctrine  of  continuous  creation,  309  ;  the 
Divine  veracity,  310,  311  ;  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  364,  365. 

DIDEROT  (1713-1784). — Philosophy  of  the  Encyclopedic,  301. 

DIOGENES  OF  APOLLONIA  (a  contemporary  of  Anaxagoras). — Theory  of 
mind,  189  ;  matter  and  mind,  214. 

DIONYSIUS  THE  AREOPAGiTE  (First  century). — Theology,  286-287. 

Du  BOIS-REYMOND. — On  matter  and  mind,  207. 

DUNS  SCOTUS  (died  1308).— Matter  and  the  individual  soul,  229  ;  im- 
possibility of  an  infinite  series  of  causes,  279. 

ECKART,  MEISTER  (died  1329). — Mystical  pantheism,  289,  290. 

EMPEDOCLES  (born  circa  492  B.C.). — Scepticism  as  regards  sensible  know- 
ledge, 94,  95  ;  on  matter,  148,  149  ;  relation  of  matter  to  mind,  216. 

ENFANTIN,  LE  PERE  (1796-1864).— The  future"  life,  373. 

EPICTETUS  (time  of  Nero). — Ethics,  40,  41  ;  religious  feeling  of,  268  ; 
immortality,  361,  362. 

EPICURUS  (341-270  B.C.).— Ethics,  25-29  ;  the  criterion  of  certainty,  102- 
104  ;  matter,  154,  155  ;  theory  of  the  soul,  187,  188  ;  relation  of  soul 
and  body,  225 ;  arguments  against  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  359-360. 

EULER  (1707-1783).— Theory  of  physical  influx,  241. 

FENELON  (1651-1715). — His  work  on  the  existence  of  God  referred  to, 
264,  266. 

FEUERBACH,  Lunwio  A.  (1804-1872). — Sensationalism,  177-178. 

FICHTE  (1762-1814).— Theory  of  matter,  175,  176;  the  soul,  209,  210; 
unity  of  substance,  243  ;  philosophy  of  religion,  333,  334. 

FOUILLEE,  ALFRED  (born  1838). — The  future  life  in  Plato,  355. 

GALEN  (131-200  A.  D.).— Physiological  theory  of  the  pneuraa,  225-227,  229, 
230. 

GALILEO  (1564-1642). — His  discoveries  draw  attention  to  the  problem  of 
matter,  158. 

GASSENDI  (1592-1655). — Matter,  159  ;  the  ontological  argument,  297. 

GAUNILO  (flourished  circa  1040).— Criticism  of  the  ontological  argument, 
277,  278. 

GERSON  (1363-1429).— Proof  of  the  existence  of  God,  280. 

GIRARD,  JULES. — His  work  Du  Sentihient  religieux  chez  les  grecs  referred 
to,  248. 

GREGORY,  ST.,  OF  NYSSA  (331-394).— The  soul,  193. 

HAMILTON,  SIR  WILLIAM  (1788-1856). — Religious  criticism,  339. 

HARTMANN,  von  (born  1842). — Pessimism,  337. 

HEGEL  (1770-1831).— Theory  of  matter,  176,  177;  theory  of  mind,  210, 
211  ;  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  305,  307  ;  theology,  336, 337. 

HEGESIAS  (flourished  circa  260  B.C.). — The  last  of  the  Cyrenaics,  25. 

HELVETIUS  (1715-1771). — Ethics,  72-74  ;  materialism,  206. 

HERACLITUS  (born  circa  500  B.C.). — Ethics,  3  ;  matter,  147  ;  the  soul,  181  ; 
matter  and  mind,  214-215  ;  the  future  life,  351-352. 

HESIOD  (flourished  circa  735  B.C.). — Ethical  notions  of,  2,  3  ;  his  theogony, 
249. 


x  INDEX   TO   PROPER   NAMES 

HILARY,  ST.,  OF  POITIERS  (died  367).— Materialism,  193. 

HIPPOCRATES  (born  circa  460  B.C.). — Theory  of  the  pneuma,  188,  189  ; 
222-223. 

HOBBES  (1588-1679).— Ethics,  71-72  ;  materialism,  171. 

HOLBACH  D'  (1723-1789).— His  Systeme  de  la  Nature,  172  ;  the  soul  and 
the  brain,  206  ;  atheism,  301. 

HOMER.— Ethics  of,  2  ;  theology,  248  ;  the  future  life,  351. 

HUGO  OF  ST.  VICTOR  (1097-1141). — Mysticism,  52  ;  proofs  of  the  existence 
of  God,  279,  281. 

HUME,  DAVID  (1711-1776). — Ethics,  77;  empirical  scepticism:  theory  of 
belief,  129,  133;  negation  of  matter,  170-171,  173;  phenomenalism, 
242. 

HUTCHESON  (1694-1746).— Theory  of  a  moral  sense,  77. 

JOHN,  ST.,  Gospel  of. — The  trvev/M,  191. 

JOUFFROY,  THEODORE  (1796-1842). — Summary  of  the  ethics  of  Adam  Smith, 
79  ;  the  ego,  212  ;  immortality,  372. 

KANT  (1724-1804).— Ethics,  55,  80-84  ;  the  criterion  of  truth,  134-137  ; 
scientific  certainty,  138  ;  metaphysical  certainty,  139  ;  impossibility 
of  inferring  the  soul  from  the  ego,  207-209  ;  criticism  of  the  proofs  of 
the  existence  of  God,  301-305  ;  ethical  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
305  ;  nature  and  attributes  of  God,  331-333  ;  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  the  postulate  of  morality,  369-371. 

LACHELIER  (born  1832). — Work  on  The  Foundations  of  Induction  quoted, 
144. 

LAMENNAIS  (1782-1854).— Perfectibilism,  373. 

LAMETTRIE,  DE  (1709-1751). — Materialism,  171  ;  relation  between  sou"!  and 
body,  206. 

LANGE  (1828-1875). — His  History  of  Materialism  quoted,  150,  158,  171, 
178,  179. 

LAROMIGUIERE  (1756-1837). — On  Cudworth  and  the  Plastic  medium, 
241. 

LASSALLE,  FERDINAND  (1824-1864). — His  work  Die  Philosophic  Heracleitos 
des  Dunklen  referred  to,  147. 

LEIBNITZ  (1646-1716). — Ethics,  66-70';  intuitive,  demonstrative,  and  sen- 
sible certitude,  125-127  ;  theory  of  matter,  166-170  ;  theory  of  mind, 
199-202  ;  the  pre-established  harmony  and  the  soul  of  the  world,  201  ; 
intercommunication  of  substances  :  their  pre-established  harmony, 
238  ;  soul  and  body,  240  ;  the  ontological  argument,  298-299  ;  proofs 
a  contingentia  mundi,  299 ;  Providence  and  optimism,  322-327  ;  theory 
of  moral  necessity,  327  ;  divine  freedom,  329  ;  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  and  metamorphosis,  365-367. 

LEROUX. — Theory  of  metempsychosis,  372. 

LOCKE  (1632-1704).— The  nature  of  mind,  203,  204. 

LUCRETIUS  (95-52  B.C.).— Ethics,  37,  38  ;  matter,  150  ;  atomism,  154,  155  ; 
the  soul,  182  ;  matter  and  mind,  225  ;  arguments  against  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  359-360. 


INDEX  TO   PROPER  NAMES  .  xi 

MAINE  DE  BIRAN  (1766-1824).— The  ego  and  the  soul,  212. 

MALEBRANCHE  (1638-1715). — Ethics,  58-61  ;  certitude  and  vision  in  God, 
121-123  ;  intelligible  extension  and  bodies,  164-166  ;  the  intercom- 
munication of  substances  :  theory  of  occasional  causes,  233-235  ;  the 
existence  of  God,  300  ;  nature  and  action  of  God,  31 1-315  ;  Providence 
and  optimism,  314. 

MAMEKTUS,  CLAUDIANUS  (flourished  circa  middle  of  fifth  century). — Spiri- 
tuality of  the  soul,  193. 

MANSEL  (1820-1871).— Religious  criticism,  339-340. 

MARCUS  AURELIUS  (121-180  A.D.). — Ethics,  41-42  ;  the  existence  of  evil, 
267  ;  religious  feeling,  268  ;  immortality  of  the  soul,  362. 

MARSILIO  FICINO  (1433-1499). — Philosophy  of  the  Renaissance,  196. 

MARTHA. — Work  on  Lucretius  referred  to,  25,  360  ;  quoted,  37. 

MELANCHTHON  (1497-1560).— The  soul  and  the  body,  229,  230. 

MILL,  JOHN  STUART  (1806-1873). — Utilitarian  ethics,  84-87  ;  certainty, 
133  ;  phenomenalism,  205,  206  ;  knowledge  and  religious  belief,  340. 

MOLESCHOTT,  JACOB  (born  1822). — Materialism,  178,  206. 

MONTAIGNE  (1533-1592).— Scepticism,  118. 

NEWTON  (1642-1727).— Space  and  the  existence  of  God,  301. 

NICOLAUS  OF  AUTRICURIA  (flourished  circa  middle  of  14th  century). — 
Atomism,  158. 

OCKAM,  WILLIAM  OF  (died  circa  1349). — Nominalism  :  faith  separated  from 
knowledge,  117;  the  soul  and  the  body,  229;  impossibility  of  an 
infinite  chain  of  causes,  279. 

OLLE^LAPRUNE. — Quoted  on  Aristotle,  17  ;  on  the  philosophy  of  Male- 
branche,  166. 

PANAETIUS  (born  circa  180  B.C.).— Negation  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
360. 

PARMENIDES  (born  circa  515  B.C.). — Antithesis  between  knowledge  and 
opinion,  95  ;  matter,  148  ;  mind,  181  ;  the  spiritual  and  the  corporeal 
not  distinguished  by,  215. 

PAUL,  ST. — On  charity,  47,  48  ;  on  faith,  115  ;  the  spirit,  191. 

PHERECYDES  OF  SYROS  (flourished  circa  600  B.C.). — Belief  in  immortality, 
351. 

PHILO  OF  LARISSA  (flourished  circa  75  B.C.). — Theory  of  certainty  :  eclec- 
ticism, 108. 

PHILO  THE  JEW  (born  circa  25  B.C.). — Theory  of  the  pneuma,  190-191. 

PHOCYLIDES  (born  560  B.C.). — Moral  reflections  of,  3. 

PINDAR  (born  circa  522  B.C.). — Belief  in  immortality,  351. 

PLATO  (428-347  B.C.). — Ethics,  10-16  ;  the  sovereign  good,  13-16  ;  doctrine 
of  expiation,  16  ;  the  Ideas  and  certainty,  98,  99  ;  theory  of  matter, 
150-152  ;  the  world  soul  and  individual  souls,  184,  185  ;  matter  and 
the  Idea,  217,  218  ;  the  soul  and  the  body,  219  ;  the  idea  of  the  good, 
252-254  ;  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  254-256  ;  Providence,  257  ; 
immortality  of  the  soul :  doctrine  of  pre-existence  and  metempsy- 
chosis, 353-355. 


xii  INDEX  TO  PROPER   NAMES 

PLOTINUS  (died  269  A.D.). — Ethics,  42-44  ;    certitude  and  ecstasy,  115  ; 

matter,  157,  158  ;  theory  of  the  soul,  191, 192  ;  the  soul  and  the  body, 

227,  228  ;  theology  :  the  Alexandrian  Trinity  :  doctrine  of  procession 

and  the  return  to  God,  268-271  ;  the  future  life  and  metempsychosis, 

363. 

POMPONATIUS  (died  1525). — The  soul,  196. 
PORPHYRY  (flourished  circa  260  A.D.). — Ethics,  44,  45. 
PRANTL. — Quoted,  158. 

PRAXAGORAS  (4th  century  B.C.). — Theory  of  the  pneuma,  223. 
PROTAGORAS  (born  circa  491  B.C.). — Ethics,  5  ;  scepticism,  96,  251. 
PYRRHO  (time  of  Alexander  the  Great). — Ethics,  30,  31 ;  scepticism,  104, 

105. 
PYTHAGORAS  (born  circa  582  B.C.). — Ethics,  3,  4  ;  matter,  147,  148  ;  mind, 

182  ;  matter  and  mind,  215  ;  metempsychosis,  382. 
RAVAISSON  (born  1813). — Theory  of  the  soul,  212  ;  on  Aristotle's  proof  of  a 

first  mover,  263-264  ;  work  on  the  Metaphysics  of  Aristotle  referred 

to,  269  ;  spiritualism,  348. 
REGIUS(LE  ROY),  (1632-1707). — The  union  of  soul  and  body  accidental  not 

essential,  365. 

REID,  THOMAS  (1710-1796). — Common  sense  doctrine  of  the  soul,  212,  213. 
REJJAN,  ERNEST  (1823-1892). — His  work  on  Averroes  referred  to,  196  ; 

religious  criticism,  348. 

RENOUVIER  (born  1815). — View  of  religion,  348. 
REYNAUD,  JEAN  (1806-63).— Immortality  of  the  soul,  372,  373. 
RICHARD  OF  ST.  VICTOR  (died  1173). — Six  degrees  in  contemplation,  52  ; 

proof  of  the  existence  of  God  a  contingentia  mundi,  279. 
RITTER  (1779-1859).— History  of  Greek  philosophy  referred  to,  147,  196. 
ROUSSEAU  J.  J.  (1712-1778).— Deism,  330,  331  ;  a  future  life,  369. 
SAINT-LAMBERT  (1716-1803).— Materialism,  206. 
SAISSET,  EMILE. — Work  on  ..'Enesidimus  referred  to,  111  ;  work  on  the 

argument  of  St.    Anselm   referred   to,   278 ;    religious   philosophy, 

344-348. 
SCHELLING  (1775-1854). — Theory  of  matter,  176  ;  the  soul,  210  ;  the  soul 

and  the  body,  243  ;  religious  philosophy,  334,  335. 
SCHOLASTICS,  THE. — Progressive  separation  of  faith  and  reason,  116-118  ; 

theory  of  the  soul,  194-196  ;  relations  between  mind  and  matter,  228- 

230  ;  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  275-281. 
SCHOPENHAUER  (1788-1860).— Pessimism,  337,  338. 

SCOTUS  ERIGENA  (born  circa  800  A.D.). — Pantheistical  theology,  287-288. 
SECRETAN.— Religious  philosophy,  348. 
SENECA  (3-65  A.D.). — Ethics,  33,  35,  36,  39,  40  ;    matter  and  mind,  224  ; 

immortality  of  the  soul,  361. 

SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS  (first  half  of  3rd  century). — Scepticism,  112-114. 
SHAFTESBURY  (1671-1713). — The  moral  sense,  76,  77. 
SIMON,  JULES  (1814-1896).— Spiritualism,  348. 
SMITH,  ADAM  (1723-1790).— Ethics  founded  on  sympathy,  78-80. 


INDEX  TO  PROPEE  NAMES  xiii 

SOCRATES  (born  circa  469,  died  399  B.C.). — Ethics,  theoretical  and  practical, 
6-10  ;  certitude,  97-99  ;  reaction  against  materialism,  150  ;  the  soul, 
184  ;  matter  and  mind,  216  ;  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  by  final 
causes  :  Providence,  251-252  ;  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  352,  553. 

SOLON  (born  circa  638  B.C.). — Moral  teaching,  3. 

SOPHISTS. — Ethics,  4-6  ;  character  of  their  scepticism,  96-97  ;  religious 
scepticism,  251. 

SPENCER,  HERBERT  (born  1820). — Evolutionist  ethics,  87-89  ;  criterion  of 
truth,  142,  143 ;  evolution  and  the  religion  of  the  Unknowable, 
342-344. 

SPINOZA  (1632-1677).— Ethics,  61-66  ;  theory  of  certainty,  123-125  ;  exten- 
sion an  attribute  of  God,  162  ;  bodies  modes  of  the  divine  extension, 
163,  164 ;  the  soul  of  the  world,  197,  198  ;  the  human  soul,  199  ; 
relation  between  extension  and  thought,  their  parallel  development, 
235-238  ;  the  ontological  argument,  298  ;  the  nature  and  attributes 
of  God,  315  ;  the  divine  thought,  317  ;  the  divine  extension,  318, 319  ; 
the  eternal  and  infinite  modes,  319,  320;  divine  freedom  and  necessity, 
321,  322  ;  impersonal  immortality,  367-369. 

STOICS. — Ethics,  general,  individual,  social,  and  religious,  31-37  ;  cri- 
terion of  truth,  101,  102  ;  matter,  155,  156 ;  theory  of  the  pneuma, 
188,  189 ;  matter  and  force,  223,  224  ;  the  soul  and  the  body,  225  ; 
theology,  224  ;  argument  of  universal  consent,  265  ;  proof  by  final 
causes,  265-267  ;  Providence  and  optimism,  267 ;  theories  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  360-363. 

TAINE  (born  1828-1893).— His  Philosophes  Classiques  referred  to,  372. 

TERTULLIAN  (160-220  A.D.).— Materialism,  193,  228. 

THALES  (born  circa  640  B.C.). — Matter,  147  ;  the  humid  principle,  214  ; 
theology,  249. 

THEODORUS  THE  ATHEIST  (disciple  of  Aristippus  of  Gyrene). — Ethics,  24-25. 

THEOGNIS  (flourished  circa  548  B.C.). — Moral  teaching,  2. 

THOMAS,  ST.     See  Aquinas. 

TYNDALL  (1820-1893). — Relation  between  physical  states  and  the  facts  of 
consciousness,  242. 

UEBERWEG. — History  of  Philosophy  referred  to,  50. 

VACHEROT. — Theory  of  God,  348. 

WADDINGTON,  CHARLES. — His  work  on  Pyrrho  referred  to,  30. 

WILLIAM  OF  AUVERGNE  (died  1249). — The  soul,  195. 

WILLIAM  OF  CONCHES  (1080-1154).— The  soul  of  the  -world,  194. 

XENOPHANES  (flourished  between  540  and  500  B.C.). — Dogmatism,  94  ; 
theology,  349,  350. 

XENOPHON  (born  circa  444  B.C.). — His  Memorabilia  quoted,  7,  8,  9,  10  ; 
his  Symposium  referred  to,  30  ;  on  a  future  life,  352. 

ZELLER  (1814). — Quoted,  30,  108,  151-152  ;  history  of  philosophy  referred 
to,  158,  180,  217,  355,  357. 

ZENO  THE  STOIC  (350-258  B.C.). — Ethics,  24,  27,  29  ;  the  criterion  of  truth, 
102  ;  the  persistence  of  the  soul  after  death,  360. 


""'^f''- 

CHAPTER    I 


THE  history  of  ethics  haSj  apart  from  the  light  which'  it  throws- 
on  philosophy  in  general,  an  interest  peculiar  to  itself.  For, 
whilst  metaphysical  theories  are  often  the  work  of  men  not 
in  close  contact  with  practical  life,  the  ethical  theories  of  a 
philosopher,  on  the  contrary,  give  nearly  always  an  ideal 
interpretation  of  the  customs  and  moral  sentiments  of  his  age. 

Moralists  are  in  a  sense  the  legislators  of  nations,  for  they 
in  truth  dictate  laws  to  the  nobler  minds,  whose  ideal  of 
conduct  is  not  bounded  by  the  narrow  limits  of  mere  legality. 
Ethical  systems,  no  less  than  legal  codes,  have  for  their  foun- 
dations, as  Plato  says,  not  "  rocks  and  oaks,  but  the 
customs  of  the  state  "  (Rep.  Book  VIII,  Chapter  II) ;  and  far 
more  clearly  than  philosophy  or  science,  they  reveal  to  us  the 
character  and  spirit  of  the  nations  to  which  they  belong.  The 
history  of  human  societies  explains,  and  is  in  its  turn  explained 
by  the  history  of  ethics. 

Practical  morality  which  is  too  often  ignored  in  the 
exposition  of  moral  systems,  as  if  it  were  subordinate  and  a 
matter  of  detail,  really  possesses  the  same  historical  interest 
as  theoretical  ethics.  It  is  in  a  way  even  more  instructive, 
for  it  enables  us  to  penetrate  more  deeply  into  the  life  and 
thought  of  past  centuries.  Practice  has  often  been  not  only  the 
starting  point,  but  perhaps  also  the  determining  cause  of  moral 
theory.  Logic  comes  later  to  the  support  of  morality  and  only 
to  justify,  by  means  of  reasoning,  ideas  which  were  originally 
simple  intuitions.  Moral  truths  gain  cogency  when  they  are 
presented  in  the  form  of  deductions,  and  so  afford  each  other 

II.  A 


2  THE  PEOBLEMS  .OF   PHILOSOPHY 

mutual  support.  Hence  moral  teachers,  who  are  in  any  case 
anxious  to  prove  that  their  precepts  are  based  on  the  authority 
of  reason,  have  grouped  their  ideas  systematically,  thereby 
gratifying  the  human  mind  in  its  love  of  order. 

If  the  doctrines  of  philosophers  thus  express  in  the  most 
perfect  form  the  moral  conceptions  of  a  people,  they  may  be 
taken  at  the  same  time  as  the  measure  of  the  progress  made  by 
the  human  conscience  in  the  different  ages.  Thus,  in  addition 
to  their  purely  historical  interest,  these  ethical  doctrines  have  a 
speculative  interest  of  the  highest  order,  for  they  prove  that 
conscience  itself  obeys  the  law  of  evolution. 

Nevertheless,  we  must  not  fall  into  the  common  error  of 
believing  that  even  those  theoretical  speculations,  which  to  the 
intelligence  have  been  most  convincing,  have  changed  the 
customary  morality  of  a  people.  For  men's  hearts  are  not 
transformed  by  speculative  doctrines,  not  even  by  those  that 
bring  most  conviction  to  their  minds.  If  conscience  changes 
it  is  only  by  a  slow  and  gradual  progress.  Nor  is  this  pro- 
gress uniform  and  continuous.  The  deviations  in  its  course 
give  evidence  of  the  diversity  of  the  minds  in  which,  at 
different  times  and  in  many  different  ways,  it  has  been 
actualized. 

Ethical  Notions  of  Pre-philosophic  times. 

Ethical  thought  began  to  manifest  itself  at  the  earliest 
period  of  the  existence  of  human  societies,  and  found  expres- 
sion both  in  the  works  of  law-givers  and  of  poets.  Arising 
out  of  reflections  which  not  only  great  events  but  also 
the  ordinary  accidents  of  life  must  suggest  to  all  men, 
moral  science  took  at  first  the  form  of  an  entirely  practical 
teaching.  In  Greece  its  first  expositors  were :  Homer,  in 
whose  pictures  of  real  life  Horace  professes  to  find  a  lofty 
morality  (Epistles,  1,  2),  Hesiod  (Works  and  Days),  the  gnomic 
poets,  Solon,  Theognis,  and  the  seven  sages  whose  very  names 
are  uncertain. 

Ethics  in  Homer  appears  as  the  courage  and  tender- 
ness of  Achilles,  the  perseverance  of  Ulysses,  the  fidelity  of 
Penelope,  the  punishment  of  Paris  in  the  Iliad,  and  of  the 
suitors'  in  the  Odyssey.  With  Hesiod  moral  reflection  proper 
begins  to  appear,  but  it  is  still  feeble,  and  only  shows 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM  IN  ANCIENT  TIMES  3 

itself  in  connection  with  the  poet's  individual  experiences. 
He  was  thinking  of  his  quarrels  with  his  brother  when 
he  wrote,  "  there  are  two  kinds  of  contests,  one  is  odious 
and  reprehensible,  for  example  lawsuits  and  trials,  the 
other  is  noble  and  salutary,  such  is  the  emulation  of 
.artists  and  artisans."  The  fable  of  the  nightingale  and  the 
hawk  was  suggested  to  him  by  all  he  had  suffered  through  the 
injustice  of  kings. 

Of  the  poems  written  between  the  ninth  century  (the 
supposed  time  of  Hesiod)  and  the  sixth,  only  a  few  fragments 
have  come  down  to  us.  The  seven  sages  were  not  philosophers, 
but  practical  men  who  endeavoured  to  inculcate  and  popularize 
moral  ideas  by  means  of  short  maxims  and  familiar  discourses. 
They  made  no  attempt  at  argument  or  discussion,  being  con- 
tent to  set  forth  clearly  truths  that  were  supposed  to  be  either 
self-evident  or  based  on  some  divine  authority.  The  gnomic- 
poets,  Solon  and  Phocylides,  likewise  expressed  in  their  moral 
reflections  the  results  of  human  experience :  the  dangers  of 
violence,  the  necessity  of  moderation  in  private  as  in  public  life, 
and  so  forth. 

The  Naturalism  of  Democritus.  Mystic  Morality  of  the  Pytha- 
goreans. The  Sophists  ;  Nature  Opposed  to  Law. 

Heraclitus  and  Democritus  were  the  first  philosophers  to  set 
forth  ethical  notions  as  the  logical  consequences  of  a  philoso- 
phical theory.  Heraclitus,  while  teaching  that  everything  is 
in  a  state  of  flux  and  that  nothing  endures,  counsels  man  to 
submit  to  the  universal  order  of  things,  and  to  let  himself  be 
gently  borne  along  with  the  unceasing  flow  of  phenomena. 

Democritus  derives  from  sensuous  principles  the  morality  of 
an  intelligent  self-interest.  He  regards  happiness  as  the  end 
•of  life,  but  he  makes  it  consist  in  good  health,  good  humour, 
and  peace  of  mind,  and  thus  makes  temperance  its  necessary 
condition. 

The  greatest  moral  teachers  amongst  pre-Socratic  philosophers 
were  the  Pythagoreans.  It  is  difficult  to  determine  precisely  the 
connection  between  their  practical  and  their  speculative  philo- 
sophy, but  the  general  tendency  of  their  morality  was  mystic. 
The  Pythagoreans  taught  that  human  life  is  in  God's  hands, 
and  consequently  they  condemned  suicide  as  an  act  of  impiety. 


4  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

But  it  was  not  by  describing  its  delights  that  they  sought  to 
reconcile  man  to  life ;  on  the  contrary,  they  maintained  that 
it  would  be  well  for  the  soul  to  be  delivered  from  the  prison- 
house  of  the  body,  but  she  must  respect  God's  commands,  and 
remain  on  earth  to  expiate  the  sins  of  a  former  life.  It  would 
seem  that  for  them  the  renunciation  of  happiness  is  the 
necessary  condition  of  virtue.  Temperance  is  the  contest 
waged  by  the  rational  soul  against  the  passions.  The  idea  of 
Justice  is  expressed  by  the  stern  law  of  retaliation,  and  to  define 
it  the  Pythagoreans  use  an  untranslatable  term,  avTi7re7rov06<?f 
— "  to  suffer  from  another  that  which  one  has  done  to  him." 
Friendship,  for  the  Pythagoreans,  was  a  manly  virtue,  free  from 
all  weakness.  "  We  should  help  others  to  take  up  their 
burdens,"  they  said,  "  but  we  must  not  carry  them  in  their 
stead."  In  the  rules  of  the  community  at  Crotona,  the 
asceticism  of  their  teaching  is  still  more  marked.  Pythagoras 
anticipated  all  the  notions  of  the  founders  of  monastic  orders. 
The  community  of  goods,  celibacy,  the  rule  of  silence,  prayer,, 
hymns  sung  in  common,  and  self-examination,  are  all  enjoined 
by  him. 

"  Let  not  thine  eyelids  yield  to  slumber,  till  thou  hast  submitted  to  thy 
reason  all  the  actions  of  the  day.  '  In  what  have  I  failed  ?  What  have  I 
done  ?  Of  what  is  commanded,  have  I  omitted  aught  ? ;  Having  thus 
reviewed  the  first  of  thine  actions,  consider  them  all  one  by  one  in  the 
same  way,  and  if  thou  hast  done  wrong,  humble  thyself.  If  thou  hast 
done  well,  rejoice  "  (Golden  Sayings). 

The  influence  of  this  austere  morality  of  Pythagoras  was. 
destined  to  last  long.  Its  traces  are  particularly  visible  in 
Platonism.  In  Pythagoreanism  there  appears  for  the  first 
time  the  great  conception  of  asceticism,  which,  broadly  speaking,, 
consists  in  sacrificing  the  natural  to  the  moral. 

In  connection  with  this  doctrine  we  may  disciiss  a  view 
which  was  more  in  accordance  with  the  Greek  spirit,  and 
which  found  about  the  same  time  its  first  exponents  in  the 
Sophists — that  of  Naturalism.  In  ethics,  as  in  politics,  the 
starting  point  of  the  Sophists  was  the  fundamental  distinction 
made  by  them  between  nature  (^>wrip)  and  custom 
From  this  principle  was  derived  their  theory  of  Law 
The  antithesis  between  natural  and  conventional  laws,  so 
eloquently  set  forth  by  Hippias  (Plato,  Protag.  337  c)  was  adopted 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM  IN   ANCIENT  TIMES  5 

and  expressed  in  similar  terms  by  all  the  Sophists.  Each, 
however,  interprets  it  in  his  own  way.  For  '  Nature '  is  one 
of  the  vaguest  of  terms,  and  the  Sophists  did  not  define  it. 
But,  beyond  doubt,  its  truest  meaning  is  that  which  was  given 
to  it  later  by  Socrates  and  the  Stoics,  namely,  reason ;  and 
this  seems  to  have  been  the  way  in  which  Protagoras  already 
understood  it,  when  he  said  that  Nature  has  given  to  all  men 
the  knowledge  of  what  is  just  (diK*}}  and  of  what  is  unjust 
(aSiKos),  and  when  he  makes  moral  justice  thus  founded  on 
Nature,  the  basis  of  political  justice  (Protagoras,  322  a-c). 
Alcidamus  and  Lycophron  seem  also  to  use  the  word  in  that 
sense,  when  they  denounce  as  contrary  to  nature — the  former 
.  the  difference  made  by  the  laws  between  the  freeman  and  the 
slave,  the  latter  the  distinction  drawn  by  prejudice  between 
the  different  classes  of  citizens.  Thus  the  Law  (1/0/^09),  in  so 
far  as  it  is  opposed  to  Nature  ((f>v<ris),  is  unjust  and  contrary 
to  reason,  and  in  so  far  as  it  is  derived  from  and  in  accordance 
with  Nature,  it  is  the  expression  of  reason  itself. 

But  the  Sophists  did  not  believe  in  the  validity  of  Eeason, 
and  if  the  masters  did  not  deliberately  preach  immorality,  their 
disciples  were  more  bold.  The  speech  which  Plato  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Callicles  (Gorgias,  482  e)  shows  what  the  result 
would  be  if  this  antithesis  of  Nature  to  custom  were  logically 
carried  out.  It  is  the  will  of  Nature  that  the  strong  should 
rule  over  the  weak.  The  man  who  had  the  intelligence  to 
despise  the  conventional  justice  instituted  by  men,  and  the 
courage  to  defy  them,  would  on  his  part  seek  to  feel  the  reckless 
joy  of  life,  to  taste  of  all  life's  pleasures ;  confiding  in  his 
strength,  which  would  make  him  feared  -by  others,  he  would 
give  full  rein  to  his  passions,  and  would  always  find  the 
means  of  indulging  them.  It  is  in  this  way,  that  from  time  to 
time,  in  the  midst  of  society,  life  according  to  Nature  is 
realized  in  a  few  exceptional  beings.  The  natural  Laws  also 
apply  to  the  State,  in  a  more  general  if  less  obvious  way. 
Civil  Law,  according  to  Callicles,  may  be  reduced  to  the  will  of 
the  stronger,  and  according  to  Thrasymachus  (Plato,  Hep.  I,  338  a) 
to  the  will  of  the  Rulers.  As  for  that  purely  human  justice 
which  forbids  violence,  it  is  a  mere  convention,  a  prejudice 
fostered  by  the  weak,  whose  interest  it  serves :  TO  Siicaiov  KOI 
TO  aia-^pov  ov  (bucrei  a\Xa 


6  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

The  Sophists  were  always  ready  to  assign  a  conventional 
origin  to  every  kind  of  institution.  Thus,  their  disciple  Critias- 
discerned  in  the  belief  in  the  Gods  a  successful  artifice,  em- 
ployed by  legislators  in  order  that  fear  might  prevent,  or  that 
remorse  might  disclose,  secret  crimes  which  would  otherwise 
go  unpunished.  Such  a  free  interpretation  of  political  and 
religious  notions  was  at  that  time  both  daring  and  original. 
It  was  a  remarkable  innovation  in  the  world  of  thought  that 
the  law,  to  which  in  the  beginning  all  nations  ascribed  a  sacred 
character,  should  be  reduced  to  the  level  of  a  natural  fact. 

The  revolutions  in  Greece  had  taught  their  lesson.  The 
different  forms  of  Government,  which  men  had  seen  alternately 
established  by  violence  and  by  violence  overthrown,  had  lost 
all  prestige ;  and  now  philosophy,  with  its  independent  criti- 
cism, finished  the  work  of  making  them  appear  contemptible. 
Unfortunately,  the  Sophists  were  inclined  to  exaggerate  the 
artificial  character  of  laws  and  institutions.  That  they  should 
be  regarded  as  a  human,  and  consequently  imperfect  product, 
was  enough,  without  further  representing  them  as  merely 
arbitrary,  the  result  of  caprice  or  of  a  blind  force.  To  see 
nothing  in  the  Laws  except  the  inventions  of  Legislators,  to 
ignore  the  natural  basis  on  which  they  rest,  was  to  be  blind 
to  the  order  which  rules  among  human  affairs.  To  leave  to 
the  established  laws  no  raison  d'etre  beyond  the  fact  of  their 
existence,  was  to  deprive  them  further  of  authority  and  to 
justify  beforehand  those  acts  of  violence  which  change  for 
good  or  evil  the  character  of  a  state.  Thus  for  all  their  bold 
attacks  on  prejudice,  the  moral  teaching  of  the  Sophists  was 
itself  a  reflection  of  the  opinions  of  an  age,  in  which  the  respect 
for  law  had  been  weakened  by  the  melancholy  spectacle  of 
successive  revolutions. 

Socrates :  Practical  Morality  ;   The  Teaching  of  Virtue. 

For  the  Sophists,  the  teaching  of  Wisdom  had  been  merely 
an  honourable  and  lucrative  profession.  For  Socrates,  it  was 
the  fulfilment  of  a  duty  to*  his  country,  and  of  a  divine  mission. 
He  devoted  himself  to  the  moral  instruction  of  the  youth  of 
Athens,  and,  unlike  the  Sophists,  he  never  thought  of  procuring 
for  himself  a  brilliant  position.  On  the  contrary,  in  order 
that  he  might  the  better  take  upon  himself  the  care  of  souls, 


THE   ETHICAL   PEOBLEM   IN   ANCIENT  TIMES  7 

he  ceased  to  occupy  himself  with  his  affairs,  and  gave  no- 
thought  to  any  concern  of  his  own  (Plato,  Apology,  23  V). 
His  preaching  was  enforced  by  the  example  of  his  life,  of  hi& 
private  virtues  and  political  courage.  In  truth,  his  great 
reputation  for  virtue  \vas  needed  if  the  militant  ardour 
and  indiscretions  of  his  zeal  were  to  be  forgiven  him. 

Socrates  adopted  a  peculiar  method  of  instruction  which 
reflects  a  curious  feature  in  Athenian  life.  The  Greeks,  whose 
private  life  was  led  in  the  market  place,  under  the  public  gaze, 
allowed  their  philosophers  to  take  a  liberty  which  seem& 
surprising  to  us, — that  of  choosing  as  a  text  for  their  moral 
lessons,  the  actions  and  conduct  of  any  private  individual 
among  them.  Socrates  was  the  first  to  exercise  jbhis  kind  of 
moral  censorship.  He  tells  us  himself  that  he  was  to  all  the 
citizens  like  a  father  or  an  elder  brother,  exhorting  them  to 
virtue  (Plato,  Apol.  31).  We  find  him  as  virtue's  true 
"  agent "  intervening  with  his  advice  in  the  intimate  concerns 
of  private  individuals.  He  helps  the  young  men,  Glaucon  and 
Charmides,  in  the  choice  of  a  profession  (Xen.  Mem.  Ill,  6 
and  7) ;  he  reconciles  two  brothers,  Chaerephon  and  Chserecrates, 
who  had  quarrelled  (Ibid.,  II,  3) ;  he  advises  Aristarchus, 
weighed  down  by  his  numerous  relations,  to  escape  from  his 
embarrassments  by  taking  to  work  (Ibid.  II,  7) ;  filled  with  a 
touching  interest  in  humble  folk,  he  exhorts  Diodorus  to  give 
help  to  Hermogenes  in  his  poverty  (Hid.  II,  10);  and  again, 
Eutherus  is  persuaded  by  him  to  accept  the  honourable  yoke  of 
domestic  service,  so  that  his  old  age  may  be  sheltered  from 
want  (Ibid.  II,  8).  In  a  word,  wherever  there  is  a  good 
action  to  be  done  or  good  counsel  needed,  there  Socrates  is 
always  to  be  found. 

In  the  process  of  giving  moral  advice  Socrates,  incidentally — 
if  one  may  so  express  it — arrived  at  certain  truths  outside  the 
compass  of  his  theoretical  scheme.  We  may  not  be  able  to 
find  in  his  philosophy  precepts  condemning  slavery  or  the  sub- 
jection of  women,  but,  with  regard  to  the  latter,  he  certainly 
taught  that  they  should  be  treated  with  respect.  In  woman, 
he  honours  the  mother  and  the  wife.  He  makes  gratitude  the 
basis  of  filial  piety,  and  exhorts  his  son  Lamprocles  to  bear 
with  Xanthippe's  trying  temper,  remembering  the  devoted  care 
which  she  bestowed  on  him  in  his  childhood  (Mem.  II,  2). 


8  THE  PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

In  conjugal  life  he  regards  woman  as  the  equal  of  man.  He 
made  no  distinction  between  them  except  such  as  springs  from 
the  different  tasks  in  a  concern  that  is  common.  To  man 
belongs  outdoor  work,  to  women  the  care  of  all  within,  and  the 
supervision  of  the  house  (Xen.  (Econ.  1,  7).  Good  order  in  the 
household  will  of  itself  secure  the  kind  treatment  of  slaves. 
The  mistress  of  the  house,  of  whom  Socrates  gives  us  an 
ideal  portrait  {Ibid.},  herself  takes  care  of  the  slaves 
when  they  are  ill,  preferring  this  task  in  fact  to  any  other, 
because  thereby  she  insures  devoted  servants  (Hid.}  Socrates 
makes  the  position  of  the  slave  altogether  honourable,  when 
he  declares  that  he  respects  him  for  his  services,  and  when  he 
points  out  to  free  men,  who  can  only  "  eat  "and  sleep,"  that 
they  should  take  example  by  the  slaves,  whose  labour  brings 
ease  and  comfort  to  their  employers  (Mem.  II,  7). 

Such  precepts,  although  they  appeared  in  the  modest  form 
of  practical  advice  merely,  had  nevertheless  a  very  lofty  import, 
and  in  order  rightly  to  estimate  their  value,  we  must  also  bear 
in  mind  that  they  were  at  that  time  quite  new. 

Theoretical  Morals  :  Virtue,  Knowledge,  and  Happiness 
identical. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  Socrates  would  scarcely  deserve 
the  title  of  philosopher  if  he  had  done  no  more  than  teach 
virtue  in  Athens  ;  but,  in  fact,  the  noble  thoughts  communicated 
by  his  word  formed  in  his  mind  a  coherent  system.  Socrates 
has  rightly  been  called  the  founder  of  Moral  Science,  for  all  his 
logical  precepts  (his  yvwQi  a-eavrov,  irony,  maieutic,  etc.)  have 
significance  only  when  applied  to  practical  life.  His  belief  in 
his  own  mission  led  him  to  declare  that  virtue  was  knowledge, 
and  could  therefore  be  taught  (Plato,  Protag.}.  When  he  said 
that  virtue  was  knowledge,  it  was  not  the  commonplace  truth 
that  it  is  necessary  to  think  correctly  in  order  to  act  well  that 
Socrates  announced.  What  he  meant  was,  that  one  cannot 
separate  knowledge  from  action,  because  he  who  really  knows 
the  good  understands  also  that  it  is  his  interest  to  do  it,  con- 
sequently he  cannot  do  otherwise  than  choose  it.  The  will 
cannot  go  against  reason,  and  when  it  is  enlightened  it  always 
makes  for  the  good.  Its  weaknesses  and  faults  are  nothing 
but  errors  of  the  intelligence.  This  follows  necessarily  from 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN  ANCIENT  TIMES  9 

another  principle,  namely,  that  the  interests  of  individuals 
always  coincide  with  the  general  good.  For  with  Socrates  the 
good  is  neither  pleasure  as  Aristippus  understood  it  {Mem.  II, 
1),  nor  what  it  might  please  any  casual  individual  to  call  the 
good,  such  as  wealth  or  honour.  It  is  that  which  is  esteemed 
by  all  men  without  exception,  that  which  all  men  agree  in 
proclaiming  fair  and  good,  KoXoKayaOov,  and  which  is  so  in  fact 
universally  and  at  all  times, — as  are  temperance  and  justice. 

Now  the  good  thus  understood  is  the  supremely  useful ;  for 
whilst  the  value  of  riches,  for  instance,  depends  on  the  use  that 
is  made  of  them,  and  they  may  consequently  be  as  harmful  to 
one  as  they  are  useful  to  another,  justice,  on  the  contrary,  is  in 
itself  of  so  great  a  worth  that  its  possession  is  always  and 
necessarily  a  good.  The  man  that  is  guided  by  his  own  interest 
must  always  choose  the  Good,  or  virtue,  and  whoever  first  com- 
mitted the  error  and  the  crime  of  separating  the  Good  from  the 
Useful  is  consigned  by  Socrates  to  the  infernal  gods. 

The  good  being  identical  with  the  useful,  it  follows  that 
happiness  is  the  end  of  virtue.  But  happiness  is  itself 
reducible  to  virtue,  and  finds  in  virtue  its  immediate  realiza- 
tion. For,  according  to  Socrates,  reason  makes  us  despise 
•external  goods,  the  signs  of  the  uncertain  favour  of  fortune 
or  of  the  gods  (evrv^id).  Reason  conceives  happiness  (euvpaj'ia) 
as  a  holy  joy,  which  implies  the  renunciation  of  common 
delights.  In  this  high  sense  of  the  term  it  may  be  truly 
said  that  happiness  does  not  deceive  the  hopes  of  those 
who  put  their  trust  in  it,  and  make  themselves  worthy  to 
enjoy  it. 

The  means  of  attaining  a  happy  life  are  the  virtues,  and  the 
virtues  are  in  their  turn  different  kinds  of  knowledge.  But  the 
virtue  par  excellence  is  wisdom,  or  the  general  knowledge  of  the 
Good,  while  the  other  virtues  are  parts  of  wisdom,  each  being 
the  special  knowledge  of  a  particular  kind  of  good.  Thus, 
temperance  is  knowledge  of  the  true  good,  as  distinguished 
from  the  false  good  which  men  call  pleasure;  courage  consists 
in  the  just  appreciation  of  merely  apparent  evils,  such  as  sick- 
ness or  death,  which  are  not  to  be  feared,  and  of  true  evils, 
such  as  injustice,  which  should  be  shunned ;  finally,  justice  is 
knowledge  of  that  which  is  permitted  or  forbidden  by  human 
or  divine  law. 


10 

If  happiness  and  virtue  are  one,  and  if,  in  consequence,  no 
one  is  voluntarily  evil,  it  is  because  the  good  has  for  man  a 
power  divine.  Hence  the  good  has  its  origin  in  reason,  and 
not,  as  the  Sophists  said,  in  convention.  There  are  two  kinds 
of  laws,  the  written  and  the  unwritten. 

" '  But  are  you  aware,  Hippias,'  asks  Socrates,  '  that  there  are  un- 
written laws  ? '  '  You  mean  those,'  asked  Hippias,  '  that  are  in  force 
about  the  same  points  everywhere  ? '  '  Can  you  affirm  then  that  men 
made  those  laws  ? '  '  How  could  they,'  said  Hippias,  '  when  they  could 
not  all  meet  together,  and  do  not  all  speak  the  same  language  ? '  '  "Whom, 
then,  do  you  suppose  to  have  made  those  laws  ? '  'I  believe,'  said  he, 
'  that  it  was  the  gods  who  made  those  laws  for  men,  for  among  all  men 
the  first  law  is  to  respect  the  gods ' "  (Mem.  IV,  4). 

The  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  unwritten  laws  is  that 
they  are  universal,  divinely  instituted,  and,  as  Socrates  adds^ 
that  they  carry  with  them  their  own  sanction. 

"  Those  who  violate  the  laws  made  by  the  gods  incur  punishment  which 
it  is  by  no  means  possible  for  them  to  escape  .  .  .  many  transgressors  of 
laws  made  by  men  escape  punishment,  some  by  concealment,  others  by 
open  violence"  (Ibid.). 

Thus,  to  the  distinction,  which  had  been  established  by  the 
Sophists,  between  natural  and  positive  laws,  Socrates  gave  a 
new,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  more  rational  and  accurate 
meaning.  And,  while  the  Sophists  only  aimed  at  destroying 
the  authority  of  the  laws,  Socrates  restored  and  strengthened 
it  by  finding  in  the  unwritten  laws  the  source  of  the  written 
laws,  and  by  making  these  participate  in  the  sanctity  and 
majesty  of  the  divine  model  of  which  they  are,  in  his  opinion, 
an  imperfect  image  (Crito). 

Plato :  The  Virtues ;  Their  Principle  in  Wisdom ;  Their 
Unity  in  Justice. 

Plato  adopted  the  ethical  conceptions  of  Socrates,  but  as 
was  always  his  way,  he  gave  them  a  wider  significance  and  a 
new  authority  by  bringing  to  light  the  metaphysical  principles 
which  were  implied  in  them.  He  distinguishes  three  parts  in 
the  soul,  and  assigns  to  each  a  special  function  and  a  special 
excellence.  Appetite  (emOu/mia),  which  has  to  be  regulated 
and  restrained,  only  gives  rise  to  a  negative  virtue,  temperance. 
The  spirited  passion  (Ov/mos),  being  enlisted  in  the  service  of 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  .ANCIENT  TIMES          II 

virtue,  becomes  courage.  Finally,  Reason  (yov<i),  when  true  to 
herself,  takes  the  name  of  wisdom. 

If,  on  the  one  hand,  the  desires  and  needs  of  the  body  must 
be  satisfied  to  the  extent  necessary  for  its  preservation,  they 
should,  011  the  other  hand,  be  fought  against  as  an  obstacle  to 
divine  life,  and,  more  especially,  to  the  attainment  of  truth. 
In  the  highest  and  most  philosophic  sense,  temperance  is,  for 
Plato,  the  renunciation  of  pleasure  and  the  release  of  the  soul 
from  the  body  (^cojOt<r/xo?  "v^u^?  a-jro  erooyaaro?,  Phaedo,  67  d). 
Plato  describes  it  in  mystical  language  as  "  the  practice  of 
dying." 

Appetite  (tviftvuiai),  which  is  lawless  and  blind,  can  be 
conquered  only  by  setting  against  it  the  spirited  passion 
which,  of  its  own  impulse,  makes  for  the  good.  Courage  thus 
completes  the  work  of  temperance ;  one  is  the  struggle  against 
pain,  while  the  other  consists  in  resisting  the  soft  seductions 
of  pleasure.  Both  are  essential  elements  of  wisdom.  By 
delivering  the  soul  from  the  fetters  of  desire  which  bind  her 
to  the  body,  these  virtues  restore  her  to  herself,  and  to  that 
contemplation  of  true  Being,  of  the  Good,  which  for  Plato,  as 
for  Aristotle,  is  the  supreme  end  of  moral  life.  Wisdom  is 
not  only  first  among  the  virtues,  it  is  also  the  principle  of 
them  all. 

"  Then  all  but  the  philosophers  are  courageous  from  fear,  and  because 
they  are  afraid  ;  and  yet  that  a  man  should  be  courageous  from  fear,  and 
because  he  is  a  coward,  is  surely  a  strange  thing.  .  .  .  And  are  not  the 
temperate  exactly  in  the  same  case  1  They  are  temperate  because  they 
are  intemperate,  which  might  seem  to  be  a  contradiction,  but  is  neverthe- 
less the  sort  of  thing  that  happens  with  this  slavish  temperance.  For 
there  are  pleasures  which  they  are  afraid  of  losing,  and  in  their  desire  to 
keep  them  they  abstain  from  some  pleasures  because  they  are  overcome 
by  others.  .  .  .  Yet  the  exchange  of  one  fear  or  pleasure  or  pain  for 
another  fear  or  pleasure  or  pain,  and  of  the  greater  for  the  less,  as  if  they 
were  coins,  is  not  the  exchange  of  virtue.  O  my  dear  Simmias,  is  there 
not  one  true  coin  for  which  all  things  ought  to  exchange  1 — and  that  is 
wisdom  ;  and  only  in  exchange  for  this,  and  in  company  with  this,  is 
anything  truly  bought  or  sold,  whether  courage  or  temperance  or  justice. 
And  is  not  all  true  virtue  the  companion  of  wisdom,  no  matter  what  fears 
or  pleasures,  or  other  similar  goods  or  evils  may  or  may  not  attend  her  ? 
But  the  virtue  which  is  made  up  of  these  goods,  when  they  are  severed 
from  wisdom  and  exchanged  with  one  another,  is  a  shadow  of  virtue  only, 
nor  is  there  any  freedom  or  health  or  truth  in  her  "  (Phaedo,  68  d}. 


12  THE  PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Thus  the  virtues  owe  their  value  to  the  principle  of  wisdom 
from  which  they  flow.  Plato's  contemptuous  disparagement 
of  interested  virtue  seems  to  offer  an  anticipatory  criticism  of 
Epicureanism. 

The  different  virtues,  therefore,  are  all  inspired  by  the  same 
spirit  of  wisdom,  and  all  participate  in  the  same  idea  of  the 
Good.  Besides  their  unity  of  origin,  their  end  is  also  one, 
which  they  pursue  in  common,  and  of  which  their  harmonious 
activity  is  the  realization.  For  although  each  of  these  virtues 
has  an  absolute  value,  and  is  an  end  in  itself,  the  particular 
ends,  named  Courage,  Temperance,  Wisdom,  have  nevertheless 
their  place  by  relation  to  a  still  higher  end,  which  is  Justice. 
By  Justice  is  meant,  in  Platonic  language,  an  internal  virtue, 
the  peace  or  harmony  established  in  the  soul  by  the  rule  of 
reason. 

The  virtues,  therefore,  are  not  isolated,  but  one  and  whole. 
We  have  already  seen  that  courage  and  temperance  are  sisters, 
being  both  the  daughters  of  wisdom ;  these  sisters,  we  may  add, 
go  hand  in  hand.  Plato  shows  clearly  the  unity  of  the  moral 
life,  when  he  makes  the  law  that  governs  the  intellect  extend  to 
the  will,  and  when  he  further  introduces  a  dialectic  of  the  pas- 
sions, and  a  hierarchy  of  the  virtues.  In  one  sense,  temperance 
and  courage  are  merely  relative  virtues,  for,  in  purifying  the  soul 
from  passion,  they  only  prepare  it  for  wisdom,  which  alone  has 
absolute  value.  Here  Plato  seems  almost  to  draw  the  same 
distinction  between  the  practical  and  the  contemplative  life,  as 
that  made  later  by  Aristotle.  But  according  to  Plato  these 
two  lives  are  in  reality  only  one.  While  it  ascends  from  one 
degree  to  another,  virtue  at  the  same  time  preserves  the  unity 
of  a  movement  that  is  continuous ;  under  all  the  variety  of 
names,  it  is  always  the  same  impulse  which  carries  us  towards 
the  Good. 

Transition  from  justice  as  the  virtue  of  an  individual,  to 
justice  considered  as  a  social  virtue,  is  suggested  by  the  nature 
of  things.  The  law  which  rules  the  mutual  relation  of  the 
faculties  of  the  soul  also  regulates  the  relations  of  men  to  one 
another  and  of  citizens  within  the  state.  Pteason,  which,  in 
the  state,  is  represented  by  its  rulers,  controls  the  passions  and 
the  lower  appetites,  which  are  in  turn  represented,  the  former 
by  the  soldiers,  the  latter  by  the  artizans  and  labourers. 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   ANCIENT  TIMES          13 

Each  class,  having  in  the  state  its  special  function,  has  also  its 
special  virtue,  and  so  Plato,  speaking  of  the  state  as  he  would 
of  the  citizen,  calls  it  wise,  courageous,  temperate,  and  just 
(Rep.  IV,  Chap.  VI).  Politics  with  him  were  thus  merely 
Ethics  on  a  larger  scale. 

The  social  virtues,  on  the  other  hand,  depend  on  individual 
morality  :  in  order  to  live  in  peace  and  harmony  with  his 
fellows,  the  individual  has  only  to  make  harmony  rule  in  his 
own  soul.  Virtue  is  in  no  sense  merely  a  personal  thing :  its 
object  is  the  Good  in  itself.  To  attain  virtue  is,  therefore,  not 
merely  to  pursue  one's  private  perfection,  or  a  good  that  is 
relative  to  one's  particular  nature,  as  Aristotle  says  afterwards 
(oiKetov  epyov) ;  it  is  to  make  the  universal  end  one's  own  end, 
and  thus  to  join  in  the  harmonious  unity  of  rational  wills. 
The  whole  theory  of  special  virtues  rests  upon  the  conception 
of  an  absolute  Good.  It  is  because  the  Good  has  an  absolute 
value,  that  we  must  always  practise  it,  at  whatever  cost  to  our 
love  of  ourselves,  or  our  hatred  of  others.  Justice  consists, 
not  as  the  old  maxims  said,  in  doing  good  to  one's  friends, 
and  evil  to  one's  enemies,  but  in  doing  good  to  all  men  with- 
out distinction.  "  Injustice  is  always  an  evil "  (Crito,  49  a) 
Thus  Plato  enjoins  the  forgiveness  of  injuries.  His  precepts  •', 
are  in  the  very  terms  of  Christian  charity ;  but  they  were  not  ' 
inspired  by  the  same  spirit,  for  he  puts  them  forward  as  a 
metaphysical  deduction,  as  the  sublime  result  of  intellectual 
insight,  rather  than  of  an  impulse  of  the  heart. 

The  Supreme  Good  and  its  Constituents ;  Pleasure  and  Know- 
ledge ;  Virtue  and  Happiness  ;  Expiation. 

With  Plato,  as  with  all  the  ancients,  the  object  of  Ethics 
was  the  determination  and  explication  of  the  nature  of  the 
Supreme  Good,  or  "  Summum  Bonum"  that  is  to  say  of  the 
good  that  is  self-sufficient  (avrdpiceia).  "  Is  the  good  sufficient  ? " 
asks  Socrates,  in  the  Philebus  (20).  "  Yes,  certainly,"  says 
Protarchus,  "  and  in  a  degree  surpassing  all  other  things." 
Among  the  things  that  men  call  good,  which  is  it  that 
fulfils  the  condition  of  supreme  good  ?  Is  it  pleasure  ?  No, 
for  pleasure  derives  its  value,  not  from  itself,  but  from  its 
union  with  mind.  Pleasure  would  be  nothing  did  we  not 
perceive  it  when  it  arises,  recall  it  in  thought  after  it  has 


14  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

disappeared  and  anticipate  it  before  it  comes.  Pleasure  has 
value,  only  because  it  is  given  witb  consciousness,  with  memory 
.and  reflection,  in  a  word  with  mind.  Moreover,  we  make  a 
distinction  between  pleasures  that  are  real  and  pleasures  that  are 
false,  and  as  the  mind  is  the  only  judge  of  truth,  pleasure  from 
this  point  of  view  also,  depends  on  knowledge.  Thus  pleasure 
is  indeed  a  good,  but  a  relative,  a  subordinate  good,  in  no  way 
deserving  of  the  title  of  Supreme  Good  (Philebus,  21  &  et  pass.). 
Is  knowledge,  then,  the  Good,  seeing  that  to  it  pleasure  owes 
its  worth  ? 

"  I  want  to  know,"  asks  Socrates,  "  whether  any  one  of  us  would 
consent  to  live,  having  wisdom  and  rnind  and  knowledge  and  memory 
•of  all  things,  but  having  no  sense  of  pleasure  or  pain,  and  wholly 
unaffected  by  these  and  the  like  feelings?"  (Ibid.  21  d). 

This  simple  question  is  substantially  the  same  as  that  which 
is  presented  in  dramatic  form  in  the  poem  of  Faust,  and  the 
answer  given  by  Plato  harmonizes  also  with  Goethe's  con- 
•ception.  Wisdom  is  not  the  good,  and  the  life  of  thought  is 
not  happiness.  Still,  as  pleasure  and  knowledge  are  the  only 
goods  we  know,  the  supreme  good,  if  it  exists,  must  be  in 
them ;  and  as  it  cannot  be  in  either  of  them,  taken  separately, 
it  follows  that  it  must  be  in  the  union  of  both.  The  Good 
.therefore  is  a  mixture ;  it  is  fed  from  two  sources.  "  And 
.here  are  two  fountains  which  are  flowing  at  our  side  ;  one, 
which  is  pleasure,  may  be  likened  to  a  fountain  of  honey :  the 
•other,  wisdom,  a  sober  draught  in  which  no  wine  mingles,  is  of 
water,  unpleasant  but  healthful "  (Ibid.  61  c). 

In  the  mixture  of  which  the  Good  is  composed  all  the 
isciences  are  included,  for  they  are  all  good,  though  in  different 
^degrees ;  between  pleasures,  on  the  other  hand,  a  choice  has  to 
be  made,  for  only  the  pleasures  that  are  true  and  pure  can 
-enter  into  the  composition  of  the  Good.  Thus  Plato  does  not 
.admit  that  simplification  of  ethics  by  which  the  Supreme  Good 
is  reduced  to  a  single  principle,  whether  this  principle  be 
i-contemplation,  as  with  Aristotle,  or  common  pleasure,  as  with 
;the  Cyrenaics.  For  Plato,  the  Supreme  Good  is  a  mixture  in 
[proper  proportions  of  pleasure  and  wisdom. 

The  notion  expressed  by  the  ancients  in  the  term  Supreme 
•Good  is  also  complex  in  another  sense,  and  made  up  of  elements 
which  were  later  considered  to  be  heterogeneous,  namely,  Virtue 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          15 

and  Happiness.  What,  then,  is  virtue  ?  What  is  happiness  ? 
And  how  was  their  relation  to  one  another  conceived  by  Plato  ? 

Virtue,  as  the  Pythagoreans  had  already  said,  is  "  the  being 
made  like  unto  God "  (6/xoiW<?  Oe<w)  ;  and  God  is  the  One,  or 
the  Good,  in  contrast  to  matter,  which  is  the  principle  of  the 
many,  or  the  evil.  To  be  like  unto  God  is  to  escape  from  the 
material  or  sensible  world,  which  is  of  necessity  the  abode  of 
evil*  and  to  take  night  towards  the  world  of  Ideas  (Theaetetus, 
176  a).  In  the  less  obscure  language  of  psychology,  this 
metaphysical  definition  means  that  virtue,  that  flight  towards 
the  region  of  things  eternal  ((f)vyi\  is  detachment  from  sense 
and  the  cultivation  of  reason  (Phaedo}.  Moreover,  as  God  is 
the  One,  virtue,  or  imitation  of  God  is  a  kind  of  participation 
in  the  divine  Unity.  No  doubt,  man,  inasmuch  as  he  consists 
of  a  body  composed  of  many  elements  and  of  a  soul  possessed 
of  many  faculties,  cannot  become  one;  but,  in  so  far  as  he 
keeps  his  body  subject  to  his  soul,  and  the  faculties  of  his  soul 
subject  to  his  reason,  he  realizes  such  unity  as  his  nature 
admits  of, — a  unity,  that  is,  made  up  of  divers  elements,  and 
which  manifests  itself  in  the  midst  of  multiplicity.  And  thus 
Plato  could  say,  following  another  Pythagorean  maxim,  "Virtue 
is  a  harmony,  and  the  wise  man  is  a  musician." 

Virtue  brings  happiness  in  its  train  (Rep.  I,  354  a),  because 
virtue  is  the  natural  good  of  the  soul.  The  just  man  is 
always  happy.  No  doubt  he  is  exposed  to  the  blows  of 
fortune — he  may  be  shamefully  treated  by  his  friends ;  he 
may,  as  the  victim  of  a  blind  hatred  or  of  a  base  betrayal,  be 
dragged  to  prison  and  scourged ;  he  may  find  an  end  to  his 
sufferings  in  death  at  the  stake ;  but  "  stripped  of  everthing 
except  Justice,"  he  still  possesses  true  happiness  (Rep.  362  a). 
For  it  is  when  virtue  is  subjected  to  humiliating  insults  that 
she  emerges,  not  only  worthy  of  all  veneration,  but  triumphant. 
And  as  the  just  man  is  happy,  even  on  the  cross,  so  the 
tyrant  is  miserable  and  hateful,  even  on  his  throne  or  in  the 
midst  of  delights. 

From  the  connection  established  by  Plato  between  virtue 
and  the  Happy  Life,  there  follows,  as  a  consequence,  a 
doctrine  which  appears  to  us  startling,  and  not  at  all  in 
harmony  with  the  Greek  spirit :  the  rehabilitation,  and,  as  it 
were,  the  vindication  of  pain. 


16  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Our  moral  offences  cannot  of  .  themselves  be  blotted  out. 
Only  by  suffering  punishment  can  we  atone  for  them.  And  from 
this  idea  that  expiation  is  necessary,  follows  that  of  suffering 
as  justified.  Pain  is  not  an  evil ;  the  greatest  of  all  evils,  on  the 
contrary,  would  be  not  to  suffer  the  punishment  our  offences 
deserve ;  and  hence,  far  from  fearing  punishment,  we  should 
desire  it  and  even  seek  it.  If  we  have  a  friend  who  is  guilty 
of  a  crime,  our  love  for  him  commands  us  to  drag  him  by 
force  before  the  tribunal,  to  denounce  him  before  the  Judge,  to 
demand  and  obtain  his  condemnation.  We  must  see  that  he 
pays  the  penalty  of  his  crime,  and  that  in  this  way  he  is 
reconciled  to  the  Good.  And  with  still  more  reason  we 
should  exercise  the  utmost  severity  in  dealing  with  ourselves. 

"  And  if  he,  or  any  one  about  whom  he  cares,  does  wrong,  he  ought  of 
his  own  account  to  go  where  he  will  be  immediately  punished  ;  he  will 
run  to  the  judge  as  he  would  to  the  physician.  .  .  .  He  should  even 
force  himself  and  others  not  to  shrink,  but  with  closed  eyes,  like 
brave  men,  to  let  the  physician  operate  with  knife  or  searing  iron,  not 
regarding  the  pain,  in  the  hope  of  attaining  the  good  and  the  honourable. 
Let  him  who  has  done  things  worthy  of  stripes  allow  himself  to  be 
scourged,  if  of  bonds  to  be  bound,  if  of  a  fint  to  be  fined,  if  of  exile  to  be 
exiled,  if  of  death  to  die,  himself  being  the  first  to  accuse  himself  and  his 
own  relations,  and  using  rhetoric  to  this  end,  that  his  and  their  unjust 
actions  may  be  made  manifest,  and  that  they  themselves  may  be  delivered 
from  injustice,  which  is  the  greatest  evil.  Then,  Polus,  rhetoric  would 
indeed  be  useful "  (Gorgias,  480). 

How  did  so  novel  a  theory  suggest  itself  to  Plato  ?  It 
would  seem  that  the  philosopher,  in  giving  to  it  an  ethical 
meaning,  had  purified  and  refined  the  idea  of  expiation  which 
plays  so  important  a  part  in  Greek  mythology  (e.g.  the  legends 
of  Oedipus,  Orestes,  Nemesis),  and  that  out  of  a  gross  supersti- 
tion he  had  brought  forth  the  Christian  doctrine  of  expiation 
by  suffering. 

When  he  represented  the  relation  of  virtue  and  happi- 
ness as  necessary,  Plato  did  not  mean  that  this  relation 
is  to  be  established  some  day  in  another  life.  He  held  that 
it  must  always  be,  and  that  it  therefore  exists  actually,  at  the 
present  moment.  Moreover,  even  if  the  good  man  were  to  re- 
gard faith  in  a  future  life  as  only  a  "splendid  possibility"  (/caXo? 
tuvSwas)  he  would  still,  like  Socrates,  face  death  in  a  calm,  serene 
spirit,  without  murmuring  against  either  justice  or  the  gods. 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          17 

Aristotle :    The   Moral  Law ;    Virtue  and  Happiness ;    The 
Virtues  ;  Justice  and  Friendship  ;   The  Contemplative  Life. 

"  Indubitably,  Plato  the  Athenian  was  a  true  Greek,  but 
added  to,  and  mixed  with  the  national  qualities  so  conspicuous 
in  him,  there  was,  one  might  almost  say,  something  Christian  in 
his  manner  of  thinking  and  speaking.  Aristotle,  on  the  other 
hand,  represents  with  singular  exactness  the  genius  of  ancient 
Greece.  No  other  moralist  has  given  us  an  ideal  picture, 
drawn  from  life,  in  which  what  is  most  profound  and  most 
enduring  in  the  Greek  mind  "is  so  happily  expressed"  (Olle- 
Laprune,  Morale  d'Aristote,  pp.  67-69).  The  idea  of  moderation, 
of  harmonious  activity,  of  happiness  through  reason  (/caret  TOV 
opOov  \6yov),  of  fitness,  and  of  beauty  (TO  KO\OV),  prevail 
throughout  all  Aristotle's  speculations  on  the  moral  life. 

Practical  reason  ((frpovtja-i?)  differs  from  wisdom  (<ro(£/a). 
Ethical  questions  do  not  admit  of  mathematical  exact- 
ness. We  must  not  expect  equal  accuracy  in  all  branches 
of  knowledge,  TO  jap  aKpifies  ov%  o/xo/w?  ev  oVao-t  TOIS  \6yoi$ 
eTTi^rjTrjreov  (1094,  B.  12),  but  only  to  the  extent  the  subject 
studied  admits  of :  TreTraiSev/mevov  yap  e<ntv  CTTI  TOCTOVTOV 
TO.Kpi/3e$  eTriftjTeiv  /caO'  eicacrTOv  yevos  ed>'  o<rov  rj  TOV  7rpa.yju.aTO? 
(pv<TL<s  eTriSe-^eTai "  (24).  In  short,  what  Aristotle  says  con-\ 
cerning  equity  as  contrasted  with  justice,  would  apply  to  thef 
whole  of  his  Ethics.  The  rule  of  what  is  indeterminate  must/ 
itself  be  indeterminate,  TOV  yap  aopta-Tov  aopia-Tos  /cat  6  Kavwv 
CO-TIV  (Nic.  Ethics,  Bk.  V,  Ch.  10). 

According  to  Aristotle,  experience  of  life  and  practice  in  doing  good 
actions  produce  in  the  soul  as  it  were  an  eye  which  is  able  at  first  sight  to 
perceive  and  discern  the  true  principles  by  which  our  conduct  should  be 
governed,  the  good  or  evil  in  any  case.  We  should  follow  these  intuitions 
of  our  inner  life  with  the  same  confidence  as  the  principles  of  science. 
"  And  on  this  account  we  ought  to  pay  the  same  respect  to  the  undemon- 
strated  assertions  and  opinions  of  persons  of  age  and  experience  and 
prudence,  as  to  their  demonstrations"  (Nic.  Ethics,  Bk.  VI,  Chap.  11). 

Aristotle  constantly  repeats  that  the  virtuous  man  is  the 
rule  and  measure  of  the  Good  (6  (nrovSaios  Kavwv  /cat  /meTpov). 
And  this  rule  is  universal  as  well  as  particular,  for  in  the  case 
of  the  virtuous  man  it  is  not  opinion  that  decides,  but  right 
reason  realized  and  living  in  him.  Being  truly  man,  he  is 

II.  B 


18  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

pleased  with  what  ought  to  please  him,  he  distinguishes 
clearly  the  good  from  the  evil,  he  is  the  rule  and  measure  of 
things. 

Experience  and  practical  reason  show  us  that  the  end  of 
man,  his  supreme  good,  is  happiness  (evSai/movia).  But  what  is 
happiness  ?  Pleasure  completes  an  action,  is  added  to  it,  as 
"  to  youth  its  bloom."  The  being  which  acts  according  to  its 
nature  finds  pleasure  in  the  very  consciousness  of  its  own  per- 
fection, and  when  of  all  the  actions  of  which  its  nature  renders 
it  capable,  that  being  accomplishes  the  highest  and  the  most 
essential  to  that  nature,  then  it  tastes  of  the  purest  and  most 
intense  joy  (apicrrov  yap  KOI  ifiitrrov}.  Now  virtue  for  any 
being  consists  in  performing  excellently  its  special  function, 
Tracra  aperr'}  ou  av  ft  apeTrj,  TO  epyov  O.VTOV  ev  aTroSiSaxriv  (Nic. 
Etk.  II,  6),  the  virtue  of  man  consists  in  exercising  most  fully 
the  highest  functions  of  man. 

Thus  happiness  is  life  according  to  virtue,  and  according 
to  the  most  perfect  virtue.  Nature  actual  and  ideal,  the 
End  and  the  Good,  Virtue  and  Happiness,  these  terms  all 
imply  and  explain  each  other.  It  is  in  this  sense  that 
happiness  is  the  principle  of  all  human  action  (TO  apurrov), 
the  end  for  whose  sake  everything  else  is  willed,  and  which  is 
itself  willed  for  its  own  sake  only,  TO  Ka6'  auro  atperov  (1199 
a  33).  So  far  everything  is  clear.  Happiness  comes  from  per- 
fection and  is  identical  with  virtue.  But  Aristotle,  taking  into 
account  the  conditions  of  human  life,  affirms  that  external 
goods  (TO.  e/cTo?  ayaQa)  are  necessary  to  happiness.  The"" 
virtuous  man  may  despise  ordinary  misfortunes,  which  are  to 
him  only  an  opportunity  for  displaying  his  courage,  but  mis- 
fortunes such  as  those  of  Priam,  without  making  him  absolutely 
miserable  (a9\io$~),  still  prevent  him  from  being  quite  happy 
(yua/cct^oi09).  To  be  complete,  happiness  requires  that  the  favour 
of  the  gods  be  added  to  merit.  In  order  that  there  may  be 
nothing  more  that  he  could  desire,  a  man  must  taste  of  the  joys 
of  friendship,  and  of  family  affection ;  he  must  have  political 
power,  wealth,  high  birth,  beauty ;  in  short  he  must  lack  none 
of  those  useful  accessories  which  are  the  ornament  of  life. 
This  does  not  mean  that  we  cannot  be  happy  without  all 
these  advantages.  The  pursuit  of  happiness  entails,  on  the 
contrary,  many  sacrifices  to  which  reason  consents  ;  but  so  long 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          19 

as  those  conditions  of  which  fortune  disposes  remain  unfulfilled, 
there  is  still  something  wanting. 

If  our  happiness  depends  in  part  on  fortune,  it  would  seem 
that  virtue,  which  is  a  habit  whose  principle  is  in  the  will, 
ought  to  be  more  independent  and  more  clearly  defined.  But 
virtue  itself  is  no  more  than  a  means  of  attaining  happiness, 
and  therefore  it  has  no  intrinsic,  or  unconditional  value.  It 
is,  moreover,  relative  to  the  agent,  and  varies  with  the  indi- 
vidual. This  follows  from  its  very  definition  ;  it  consists  in 
"  finding  pleasure  and  pain  in  the  right  objects  "  (Nic.  Eth.  II, 
3).  It  is  the  habit  of  behaving,  with  regard  to  the  passions,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  avoid  all  excess,  and  always  to  observe 
the  due  mean  (TO  pea-ov) :  courage,  for  instance,  consists  in 
keeping  at  an  equal  distance  from  the  two  extremes  of 
cowardice  and  temerity.  "  And  the  mean  with  which  we  are 
here  concerned  varies  in  different  individuals.  If  ten  pounds 
of  food  is  too  much  for  a  given  man  to  eat,  and  two  pounds  too 
little,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  trainer  will  order  him  six 
pounds,  for  that  also  may  be  too  much  for  the  man  in  question 
or  too  little ;  too  little  for  Milo,  too  much  for  the  beginner  " 
(Nic.  Ethics,  II,  6).  Moral  obligations  are  not  the  same  for 
every  one.  "  Temperance  (craxp poa-vvrj]  is  not  the  same  for 
woman  as  for  man  "  (Poht.  Ill,  4). 

But  does  not  virtue,  once  it  is  determined  by  the  particular 
nature  of  the  agent,  at  least  depend  exclusively  on  the  will  of 
the  latter  ?  One  might  be  inclined  to  think  so,  remembering 
that  the  peculiar  and  essential  characteristic  of  virtue  is  that 
it  involves  free  choice,  intention  or  preference  (-Trpoaipea-is). 
But  while  he  asserts  that  the  honour  or  merit  of  virtue  belongs 
to  the  will,  Aristotle  is  far  from  holding  that  volition  alone 
is  of  consequence,  and  that  the  action  is  accessory  or  unimpor- 
tant. According  to  Aristotle,  the  whole  of  morality  consists 
in  willing  to  observe  in  all  things  the  due  mean,  and  in  actually 
observing  it.  We  see  that  in  this  way  Aristotle  leaves  man  at 
the  mercy  of  external  circumstances.  "  To  be  liberal  one  must 
have  something  to  give,  to  be  just  one  must  be  able  to  requite 
those  who  have  done  us  good,  etc." 

Nor  is  this  all :  virtue  can  only  develop  in  the  state.  It 
is  a  law  of  nature  that  man  only  becomes  virtuous  amongst 
his  fellows.  To  sum  up  :  virtue,  which,  by  definition,  is  relative 


20  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

and  contingent,  since  it  depends  on  the  nature  of  the  individual, 
is  further  subject  to  two  kinds  of  conditions :  the  accidental 
conditions  of  fortune,  and  the  better  defined  and  less  unstable 
conditions  of  the  state. 

It  is  unnecess'ary  to  examine  in  detail  the  virtues  that  are 
enumerated  and  described  in  the  Nicomachean  Ethics.  But 
among  those  which  Aristotle  honours  with  an  analysis  we  must 
note  certain  exceptional  virtues  which  are  altogether  Greek  and 
aristocratic,  such  as  Liberality  (Nic.  Etli.  IV,  1)  and  Magnifi- 
cence (Ibid.  IV,  2)  which  are  reserved  for  the  wealthy ;  for 
they  consist,  the  one  in  making  good  use  of  money  in  general, 
the  other  in  the  right  use  of  a  large  fortune.  Magnanimity  is 
a  still  more  exclusive  virtue,  for,  besides  high  birth,  it  implies 
a  great  soul,  a  cultivated  mind,  superior  talents,  in  a  word, 
everything  that  would  justify  the  highest  ambition. 

The  fact  that  Aristotle  makes  a  virtue  of  political  capacity 
and  of  the  right  use  of  wealth,  shows  sufficiently  the  character 
of  his  ethics.  The  ideal  which  he  proposes  is  not  an  abstract 
ideal,  or  one  that  appears  in  violent  contrast  with  the  customs 
of  his  time.  It  is  an  ideal,  born,  so  to  speak,  of  what  was 
actual,  in  harmony  with  Greek  life  and  adapted  to  its  form  of 
government  and  classes  of  society.  The  virtues  of  which 
he  makes  the  most  exhaustive  study  are  accordingly  the  virtues 
of  social  life :  justice  and  friendship. 

The  beauty  of  justice  he  extols  in  the  following  words : 
"'Neither  evening  nor  morning  star  is  so  lovely  "  (Nic.  Ethics, 
V,  1).  He  adds  that,  according  to  the  poet  Theognis,  justice 
includes  all  the  other  virtues,  for  it  is  in  truth  "  a  good  to 
another,"  aXXoTptov  ayaOov.  Everything  that  tends  to  pro- 
duce prosperity  in  civil  life,  or  to  increase  it,  belongs  to  justice : 
and  since  everything  that  concerns  morality  is  part  of  the 
social  order,  that  which  virtue  requires  is  also  ordered  by  the 
law.  Between  the  political  and  the  moral  life  there  is  not 
only  interdependence,  but  a  perfect  analogy. 

But  Aristotle  also  gives  the  name  of  justice  (Ibid.  V,  2,  3)  to 
a  special  virtue,  which  consists  in  observing  equality,  either  in 
the  distribution  of  honours,  wealth,  etc.,  or  in  exchange,  in  social 
transactions  (selling,  buying,  lending,  salaries,  etc.),  and  the 
repression  of  legal  offences  and  crimes.  In  this  second  case,  all 
that  justice  demands  is  that  the  things  exchanged  be  strictly 


THE   ETHICAL  PKOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          21 

equal  in  value,  that  the  punishment  be  exactly  proportioned 
to  the  wrong.  But  in  the  former  case  justice  is  not  so  easily 
satisfied ;  it  demands  that  the  merit  of  persons  be  taken  into 
account,  as  well  as  the  value  of  things.  Aristotle  states  in 
mathematical  terms  the  different  rules  belonging  to  these  two 
kinds  of  justice.  Distributive  justice  has  for  its  symbol  Geome- 
trical proportion,  while  the  rule  of  exchange  and  of  penalties 
is  represented  by  Arithmetical  proportion. 

Aristotle  pays  particular  attention  to  political  virtue,  and 
divides  it  into  legal  justice,  which  is  conventional  and  variable, 
and  natural  justice,  which  depends  neither  on  the  decrees  nor  on 
the  opinions  of  men,  but  has  the  characteristic  of  being 
universal  and  immutable.  On  this  important  distinction  is 
based  the  theory  of  equity,  which  consists  in  appealing  to 
natural  law  against  the  severities  and  injustices  of  conventional 
law. 

"Though  what  is  equitable  (TO  €7ri€t/<es)  is  just,  it  is  not  identical  with, 
but  a  correction  of  that  which  is  just  according  to  law,  «ravo/30w/xa 
vofj.ifj.ov  SIKCUOU.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that  every  law  is  laid  down  in 
general  terms  .  .  .  and  the  essence  of  what  is  equitable  is  that  it  is  an 
amendment  of  the  law,  in  those  points  where  it  fails  through  the  generality 
of  its  language  "  (Nic.  Eth.  V,  10). 

Aristotle  compares  equity  to  the  Lesbian  leaden  rule,  which, 
following  the  outline  of  the  stone,  gives  a  more  exact  measure 
than  the  iron  rule,  which  is  the  symbol  of  mere  legal  justice. 

By  means  of  justice  good  order  is  established  in  the  State, 
but  friendship  brings  about  the  true  union  of  the  citizens. 
Friendship  may  be  extended  to  all  men,  and  it  then  becomes 
philanthropy  (<pi\av6pa)Tria).  Thus  understood,  it  involves 
justice  and  surpasses  it. 

"  Friendship  is  the  bond  that  holds  States  together.  ...  If  citizens  be 
friends,  they  have  no  need  of  justice,  but  though  they  be  just,  they  need 
friendship  or  love  also  ;  indeed,  the  cornpletest  realization  of  justice  seems 
to  be  the  realization  of  friendship  or  love  also"  (TWV  SIKO.IWV  TO  ^aAtcrra 
</uAiKoi/  fivai  SoKfi)  (Nic.  Ethics,  VIII,  1). 

Nowhere  does  Aristotle's  identification  of  politics  and  ethics, 
of  social  and  private  virtue,  appear  more  clearly  than  in  his 
theory  of  friendship.:/  He  upholds,  for  example,  in  friendship, 
the  rules  of  an  uncompromising  justice,  in  which  the  virtues  of 
both  parties  are  strictly  taken  into  account.  Of  two  friends 


22  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  better  man  should  be  loved  more  than  he  loves.  The 
rights  of  moral  superiority  must  be  maintained.  True  friend- 
ship has  its  origin  neither  in  pleasure  nor  in  interest,  but 
in  virtue.  Among  men  we  love  those  who  are  good,  and  we 
love  them  because  of  their  goodness.  Consequently  the  only 
true  friends  are  good  men,  who  become  united  with  the  sole 
object  of  becoming  better,  and  hence  more  lovable.  In  fact,  in 
friendship  as  in  virtue  disinterestedness  is  the  essential  feature. 
Aristotle  speaks  with  contempt  of  those  friendships  which  are 
made  and  unmade  with  a  view  to  advantage.  Such  are  the 
friendships  formed  by  politicians  and  the  aged.  The  kind  of 
friendship  he  holds  up  as  a  model,  is  that  of  a  benefactor  or  a 
mother's  love.  He  would  have  us  love  our  friend  for  his  own 
sake,  and  love  htm  like  ourselves  (erepos  yup  avros  6  ^>/\o9 
ea-ri,  Nic.  Ethics,  IX,  9).  In  short,  he  makes  the  perfection  of 
friendship  consist  in  loving  rather  than  in  being  loved  (Soicei  §' 
i'j  <pi\ia  ei>  TU>  (biXeiv  /uaXXoi/  »/  ev  T(p  (ptXeierOai,  Nic.  Ethics, 
VIII,  8). 

The  object  of  practical  life  is  not  the  absolute  good,  but  a 
particular  or  determinate  good  (oiKelov  epyov  TrpaitTov  ayaOov), 
the  good  that  is  conformable  to  the  nature  of  man  ;  but  the  life 
of  contemplation  gives  us  that  perfect  happiness,  which  tran- 
scends our  sensible  nature,  and  belongs  to  God  alone.  In 
contrast  with  the  intellectual  virtues,  the  moral  and  political 
virtues  fade  into  insignificance,  for  their  worth  is  not  in  them- 
selves; they  are  only  the  auxiliaries  of  wisdom.  By  subjecting 
the  soul  to  reason,  they  prepare  the  way  for  the  divine  life. 

"  As  the  steward  of  a  great  house  looks  after  everything  in  it,  orders 
everything,  so  that  the  management  of  domestic  affairs  may  not  prevent 
the  master  from  attending  to  his  duties  as  a  citizen  ;  so  does  prudence,  by 
restraining  and  controlling  the  passions,  secure  for  wisdom  the  leisure  she 
requires  in  order  to  perform  her  own  functions"  (Nagna  Moralia,  1, 
XXXV,  11986  12). 

Moreover,  wisdom,  once  it  is  born  in  us,  is  self-sufficient. 
The  wise  man  need  not  go  outside  himself  to  seek  happiness. 
He  finds  it  in  his  own  contemplation ;  and  if  political  life  still 
has  any  attraction  for  him,  it  is  solely  because  he  may  be  able 
to  make  others  share  in  his  thoughts.  He  need  not  even 
practise  the  moral  virtues  any  longer.  He  has  only  to  develop 
within  himself  eternal  and  divine  reason. 


THE   ETHICAL   PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          23 

"  Nevertheless,  instead  of  listening  to  those  who  advise  us,  as  men  and 
mortals,  not  to  lift  our  thoughts  above  what  is  human  and  mortal,  we 
ought  rather,  as  far  as  possible,  to  put  off  our  mortality  " :  e(f>'  6'crov  evSe^erat 
a#ai>aTt£etv  (JVic.  JSthics,  X,  7). 

But  how  can  we  enter  into  the  divine  life  ?  God  is  blessed 
in  Himself  and  in  virtue  of  His  nature.  He  is  at  once  pure 
intelligence  and  pure  actuality ;  He  is  eternal  thought,  which 
finds  its  eternal  object  in  itself.  Our  nature  does  not  itself 
provide  all  that  is  necessary  for  contemplation  (ou  'yap 
avTapKqs  rj  <pv<ri?  irpos  TO  Oeovpeiv).  As  human  beings, 
we  need  external  goods  (Nic.  Eth.  X,  8).  Our  passions 
are  an  obstacle  to  perfect  happiness,  which  lies  in  in- 
telligence alone.  We  have  then  first  to  fight  against  our 
sensible  nature ;  and  for  this  we  employ  the  moral  virtues. 
But  as  it  is  by  reason  that  we  are  distinguished  from  all  other 
beings,  so  also  in  reason  is  found  that  happiness  which  is  truly 
human,  although  modelled  on  the  divine  felicity. 

"Happiness,  then,  extends  just  as  far  as  contemplation,  and  the  more 
contemplation,  the  more  happiness  is  there  in  a  life — not  accidentally,  but 
as  a  necessary  accompaniment  of  contemplation  ;  for  contemplation  is 
precious  in  itself  "  (Ibid.). 

But  could  Aristotle  represent  the  moral  end,  now  as  human 
happiness,  and  now  as  divine  blessedness  ?  Could  he,  without 
contradiction,  declare,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  virtuous  man 
is  the  measure  of  virtue,  and,  on  the  other,  that  virtue  consists 
in  making  one's  self  immortal  ?  Certainly  he  could,  for  to 
him  prudence  (<ppoi>*](ris)  already  implies  reason,  moral  life 
being  thus  the  promise  and  manifestation  of  the  intellectual 
or  divine  life  (o  /caret  TOV  vovv  (3tos).  It  is  true  that  there  is 
in  each  of  us  a  beast  and  a  god,  but  the  aspirations  of 
the  beast  tend  to  nothing  less  than  oneness  with  the  thoughts 
of  God.  Prudence  is  not  different  in  nature  from  reason 
(i/oy?).  Man  possesses  prudence  naturally,  he  advances 
willingly  towards  reason,  and,  leaving  his  animal  nature,  he 
ascends  to  God.  The  entrance  into  immortality  is  the  glorious 
goal  of  his  moral  life.  From  action  to  contemplation  there 
is  no  abrupt  transition,  but  a  gradual  ascent,  a  continuous 
aspiration.  And  so  without  inconsistency  the  practical  and 
the  speculative  life  may  be  said  to  become  one. 


24  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Character  of  Post-Aristotelian  Ethics :   Individualism-. 

Post-Aristotelian  philosophy  is  characterized  by  the  sub- 
servience of  every  branch  of  investigation  to  ethical  ends. 
Human  thought  seems,  at  the  time  of  Zeno  and  Epicurus,  to 
free  itself  from  metaphysical  speculation,  just  as  at  the  time  of 
Socrates  it  had  lost  all  interest  in  hypotheses  as  to  the  origin 
of  the  material  world. 

At  the  same  time,  the  revolution  that  had  already  taken 
place  in  the  practical  sphere  being  transferred  into  the  world 
of  thought,  man's  individual  life  was  now  conceived  as  having 
an  intrinsic  value,  and  consequently  a  destiny  and  an  aim 
other  than  the  performance  of  his  functions  in  the  state. 
While  Plato  could  find  consolation  for  the  unhappiness  of  the 
citizens  in  the  thought  that  the  state  is  happy,  while  Aristotle 
makes  so  little  distinction  between  political  and  moral  life 
that  he  regards  happiness,  if  not  virtue  itself,  as  the  special 
privilege  of  the  free,  Epicurus,  like  Zeno,  places  the  end  of 
man  in  man  himself,  frees  him  morally  from  his  obligations 
to  the  state,  and  finds  a  use  for  his  life  even  when  the 
political  career  is  closed  to  him.  Thus,  from  the  advent  of 
Epicureanism  and  of  Stoicism,  there  dates  a  new  period  in 
philosophy,  that  in  which  the  individualistic  conception  is 
introduced  into  ethics. 

The  Precursors  of  Epicurus :   the  Cyrenaics. 

But,  as  it  is  in  the  nature  of  ethical  doctrines  not  to  belong 
to  any  exact  date,  and  often  to  be  in  advance  of  the  historical 
facts  with  which  we  connect  them,  there  is  nothing  surprising 
in  the  fact  that  an  immediate  follower  of  Socrates,  Aristippus 
of  Gyrene,  should  be  the  forerunner  of  Epicurus.  Aristippus 
starts  from  the  Socratic  principle  that  happiness  is  the  end  of 
man.  He  makes  happiness  consist  in  pleasure,  and  in  any 
kind  of  pleasure,  provided  it  is  present,  and  hence  felt ;  but  he 
does  not  adhere  to  this  gross  conception,  which  would  be  the 
negation  of  all  morality.  He  adds,  as  corrective,  this  important 
rule,  that  in  the  midst  of  pleasure  man  should  preserve  in- 
ternal freedom,  maintain  possession  of  himself.  Thus  he  says 
of  himself,  "  I  possess  Lais  and  am  not  possessed  by  her,"  e'x&> 
KOI  OVK  e'xo/jicu.  Theodorus  the  Atheist,  a  disciple  of  Aristippus, 
finds  this  internal  liberty  of  which  Aristippus  speaks,  in  in- 


THE   ETHICAL  PKOBLEM   IN   ANCIENT  TIMES          25 

dependence  and  intellectual  boldness.  In  ethics,  as  well  as  in 
religion,  he  professed  opinions  which  would  justify  his  double 
name  of  adeos  and  OpacrvraTos  (D.L.  II.  116).  Taking  the  con- 
sequences of  an  action  as  the  measure  of  its  worth,  he  held 
that  robbery,  sacrilege,  adultery  could,  in  certain  cases,  be 
permitted  ;  thus  he  did  not  shrink  from  the  most  extreme 
consequences  of  Hedonism. 

A  more  surprising  consequence  of  the  development  of  this 
same  doctrine  is  the  pessimism  of  one  of  the  last  of  the 
Cyrenaics,  Hegesias  (300  B.C.),  surnamed  "the  advocate  of  death" 
(•7rei<ri9dvaTo$).  If  pleasure  is  a  fleeting  thing  that  cannot 
be  seized,  how  can  we  set  it  up  as  an  end  ?  How  are  we  to 
avoid  the  disgust  and  satiety  that  we  find  in  it  ?  We  make 
pleasure  the  object  of  life,  but  who  can  fail  to  see  that  this 
object  will  never  be  attained  ?  The  inference  is  that  we  must 
renounce  life,  which  is  the  source  of  every  kind  of  illusion. 
Strange  result  of  a  philosophy  of  pleasure  ! 

Epicurus:  Definition  of  Pleasure;  Pleasures  of  the  Mind; 
Theory  of  the  Desires  ;  Virtue. 

Epicurus  sought  to  free  man  from  the  yoke  of  passion,  and 
the  tyranny  of  the  gods,  and  to  give  him  "  that  impenetrable 
rampart  of  liberty  of  heart  which  nothing  can  force  "  (Fenelon). 
In  order  to  take  away  the  government  of  the  world  from  the 
gods,  a  materialistic  system  of  physics  was  needed,  and  this 
physical  system  involved  an  empirical  logic.  Thus  the  whole 
Epicurean  philosophy  is  constructed  with  a  view  to  their 
ethics,  for  which  it  prepares  the  way,  and  which  completes  it. 

By  the  doctrine  of  Atomism,  man  is  delivered  from  the 
chimeras  of  superstition — the  fear  of  death,  the  fear  of  hell, 
the  fear  of  the  gods.  This  is  the  threefold  chain  broken  by 
the  Epicurean  physics.  The  gratitude  of  the  disciples  of 
Epicurus  (for  they  almost  adored  him  as  a  redeemer),  their 
cult  of  the  master's  memory  (charms,  rites,  etc.),  show  with 
how  strange  an  oppression  the  ancient  superstition  had  weighed 
upon  them  (see  Martha,  The  poem  of  Lucretius). 

When  the  mind  has  been  purified  by  the  principles  of 
physics,  the  initiation  into  the  deepest  mysteries  of  Epicurean 
ethics  may  commence.  The  gods  are  so  far  away  that  it  is 
only  seldom  that  some  simulacrum,  escaping  from  their  glorious 


26  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

bodies,  traverses  space,  and  reveals  to  us  their  existence. 
Nature,  left  to  herself  by  the  gods,  is  all  that  man  has  to 
deal  with.  What  then  in  nature  is  the  supreme  good  which  he 
should  aim  at  ?  Like  Aristippus,  Epicurus  replies,  "  Pleasure." 
For  has  not  the  canonic  proved  that  the  affections  (TO.  irdQrf), 
the  impressions,  that  is,  of  pleasure  or  pain,  are  the  only  means 
we  have  of  distinguishing  good  from  evil,  of  knowing  what 
is  to  be  desired  and  feared,  to  be  sought  and  avoided  ? 

In  the  second  place,  observation  shows  that  all  animals, 
from  the  moment  of  their  birth,  seek  pleasure  and  avoid  pain. 
This,  then,  is  the  first  principle  of  Epicurean  ethics :  Avoid  pain ; 
seek  pleasure.  The  next  question  is,  What  is  pleasure  ?  We 
have  to  distinguish  two  kinds  of  pleasure ;  the  first,  passive 
pleasure,  is  calm  and  enduring ;  the  other,  active  pleasure,  is 
lively,  rapid,  fleeting.  The  first  is  the  freedom  from  all  pain, 
all  anxiety ;  the  second  is  excited  in  us  by  a  titillation  of  the 
senses,  and  invites  us  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  the  body.  What 
it  requires  is  the  tranquil  sense  of  enjoyment  that  results 
from  the  performance  of  all  one's  functions.  It  is  the  state  of 
comfortable  existence  which  good  health  produces.  Not  to 
suffer  in  body,  to  be  untroubled  in  mind,  these  are  the  two 
conditions  of  happiness.  The  pleasures  of  the  body,  which 
are  always  mixed  with  uneasiness  and  feverishness,  only 
remove  want,  and  prepare  the  way  for  the  true  pleasure, 
which  consists  in  the  peaceful  slumbering  of  all  pain  and 
of  all  passion. 

The  pleasures  of  the  soul  are  a  thousand  times  more  precious 
than  those  of  the  body,  for  the  body  is  only  affected  by  the 
present  impression,  but  the  mind  enjoys  the  present,  the  past, 
and  the  future.  We  must  not,  however,  mistake  the  sense  of 
this  teaching.  As  anticipation  (7rp6\t]\^if)  implies  the  remem- 
brance of  past  sensations,  the  pleasure  of  the  mind  is  in  reality 
the  renewal  in  memory  of  sensible  pleasures  accompanied  by 
the  hope  that  they  will  be  experienced  again. 

" '  For  I  do  not  know  what  I  can  consider  good,'  Epicurus  said,  '  if  I 
put  out  of  sight  the  pleasures  of  eating  and  drinking,  of  hearing  and 
seeing,  and  of  love'"  (D.L.  x,  6).  "Metrodorus,  the  sage  colleague  of 
Epicurus,  blamed  his  brother  Timocrates  because  he  would  not  allow 
that  everything  which  had  any  reference  to  a  happy  life  was  to  be 
measured  by  the  belly"  (Cic.  De  Natura  Deorum,  I,  40,  113). 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   ANCIENT  TIMES          27 

• 

The  role  of  the  mind  is  to  anticipate  the  pleasure  that  is 
to  come  and  to  preserve  past  pleasure.  The  mind  soars 
above  present,  actual  pain,  and  remains  in  a  contented 
state,  knowing  that  the  good  moments  of  life  are  more 
numerous  than  the  bad,  and  remembering  all  the  pleasure  it 
has  experienced,  or  may  possibly  experience.  In  this  way  it 
can  escape  from  the  present,  and  enjoy  life  as  a  whole,  and 
this  is  an  enjoyment  that  cannot  be  taken  from  us.  Epicurus 
also  advises  us  not  to  think  of  future  evil.  An  evil  does  not 
become  less  by  being  thought  on,  and  it  is  a  foolish  (stulta) 
meditation  that  dwells  on  a  future  evil  which  may  never  come 
to  pass.  "  Calamitosus  est  animus  futuri  anxius  et  ante  miserias 
miser  "  (apud  Sen.). 

There  is  an  analogy  here  between  the  doctrines  of  Epicurus 
and  those  of  Zeno.  Zeno  does  not  find  the  good  in  particular 
acts,  but  in  the  harmony  of  the  whole  life.  Similarly,  for 
Epicurus,  bodily  enjoyments  are  only  the  material  of  the  good, 
which  itself  consists  in  reflection  upon  pleasures.  The  reflec- 
tion of  Epicurus,  like  the  will  of  the  Stoic,  overcame  the 
limitations  of  time.  By  staying  itself  on  the  memory  and  on  the 
hope  of  a  happier  state,  it  is  able  to  offer  adequate  resistance 
to  the  present  evil.  The  analogy  is,  however,  not  complete, 
for  with  the  Stoics  the  object  of  the  will  is  duty,  while  with  the 
Epicureans  it  is  pleasure. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  know  that  true  happiness  consists 
in  freedom  from  pain  and  in  peace  of  mind.  We  must  seek 
and  find  the  means  of  realizing  this  ideal.  The  swerving 
of  the  atoms  becomes  free  will  in  man,  and  it  depends  on 
ourselves  alone  whether  our  lives  are  shaped  after  the  model 
of  those  of  the  gods,  and  imitate  the  serenity  of'  their 
blessed  existence.  "  Better  be  still  in  the  trammels  of  the 
common  superstitions  concerning  the  gods,  than  bound  by  the 
fatalism  of  physicists.  One  might  still  hope  to  move  the  gods 
to  pity,  but  necessity  is  inexorable."  In  order  to  attain  this 
wisdom  which  is  so  precious,  we  must  discover  exactly  what  it 
is  that  nature  demands,  which .  are  the  desires  the  satisfaction 
of  which  is  a  law  of  nature  ratified  by  pain.  To  this  question 
Epicurus  replies  by  his  theory  of  the  desires. 

There  are,  in  the  first  place,  desires  that  are  natural  and 
necessary.  These  are.  easily  satisfied.  "Are  not  bread  and 


28  THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

water  an  excellent  repast  when  one  is  hungry  and  thirsty  ?  " 
But  we  have  to  remember  that  carnal  pleasure  is  merely  a 
means  to  an  end,  that  it  disappears  as  soon  as  the  pain  caused 
by  the  want  has  ceased,  that  to  attempt  to  prolong  it  is  a 
folly  which  would  be  certain  to  result  in  pain ;  and  we  should 
recognize  the  benevolence  of  nature  in  that  she  demands  so 
little.  Then  there  are  desires  that  are  natural  but  not 
necessary :  the  instinct  of  reproduction,  the  love  of  parents 
for  their  children.  These  desires  are  indeed  natural,  since  all 
animals  share  them,  but  the  wise  man  has  no  difficulty  in 
freeing  himself  from  them.  Marriage  and  paternity  bring  so 
many  cares  that  it  is  more  prudent  to  avoid  them.  Lastly, 
natural  appetites,  when  they  become  depraved,  give  rise  to 
superfluous  desires.  We  long  for  wealth,  power,  rank,  fame, 
and  we  aspire  to  reform  men  and  to  rule  the  state ;  as  if  true 
riches  were  not  the  suppression  of  cupidity,  and  as  if  man 
had  not  enough  to  do  in  governing  himself. 

"  I  never  had  any  ambition  to  please  the  people,  for  the  things  that 
I  am  concerned  to  know,  they  dislike  ;  and  what  they  like,  I  know  not " 
(ap.  Sen.  Ep.  XXIX,  10). 

Since  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  is  the  supreme  law,  virtue  has, 
in  itself,  no  worth.  The  good  and  the  beautiful  are  nothing 
without  the  useful  and  the  agreeable.  Apart  from  pleasure  all 
the  virtues  taken  together  are  not  worth  a  brass  counter  (Plut. 
Adv.  Col.  Ch.  30). 

Nevertheless,  just  as  the  art  of  medicine  is  practised,  not  for 
its  own  sake,  but  for  the  good  health  which  it  procures,  so  we 
must  practise  virtue  not  for  itself,  but  because  of  the  happiness 
which  it  alone  can  insure  to  us.  It  is  prudence  that  teaches 
us  to  discern  the  true  and  the  false  goods,  while  temperance 
makes  us  resist  the  assaults  of  apparent  pleasures,  and  attain 
the  supreme  delight.  And  if  this  virtue  is  good,  it  is  not 
because  it  purifies  the  mind,  but  because  it  secures  for  us 
more  lasting  joys.  It  is  the  same  with  courage,  which 
makes  us  bear  present  pain  and  procures  more  precious  goods 
in  the  future ;  and  with  justice,  which  is  a  refined  form  of 
egoism,  a  mere  convention,  by  which  we  agree  not  to  attack 
our  fellow  creatures,  in  order  thereby  to  avoid  violence  on 
their  part.  There  is  nothing  mysterious  in  the  legal  right : 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          29 

it  is  founded  on  egoistic  calculation,  and  if  it  has  a  sacred 
character  it  is  on  account  of  its  utility.  The  moment  a  law 
loses  its  utility  it  loses  its  title  to  respect,  in  fact  it  ceases  to 
exist. 

The  desire  for  absolute  calm,  for  repose  and  silence,  lassitude 
and  disgust  with  every  kind  of  pleasure,  are  the  prevailing 
note  in  the  Epicurean  philosophy.  Never  was  an  ethical 
system  less  voluptuous  and  more  melancholy  than  this  ascetic 
sensualism.  Nihil  admirari,  not  to  be  interested  in,  or  drawn 
to  anything,  to  retire  altogether  into  one's  self,  to  play  as 
small  a  part  in  life  as  possible,  this  is  true  wisdom,  this  is 
the  only  road  to  happiness.  The  ideal  would  even  seem  to  be 
to  reduce  one's  whole  being,  one's  whole  life,  into  a  point  in 
space  and  time,  so  as  to  leave  to  pain  no  hold  or  purchase. 

Antecedents  of  Stoicism. — The  Cynics  ;  Gospel  of  toil  (TTOVOS). 
Pyrrho  ;  Absolute  Indifference. 

The  Cynic  school  is  a  link  between  the  moral  doctrine  of 
Socrates  and  that  of  Zeno.  Antisthenes  was  a  disciple  of 
Socrates,  Crates  the  Cynic  was  to  be  the  master  of  Zeno.  But 
Antisthenes  was  not  a  faithful  disciple,  for  he  simplified  and 
impoverished  the  doctrines  of  Socrates.  He  separated  Ethics 
from  Metaphysics,  virtue  from  knowledge ;  the  good,  the  sole 
object  of  his  philosophy,  he  regards  as  a  matter  of  practice 
and  not  of  speculation  or  fine  words.  Virtue,  with  the  Cynics, 
no  longer  depends  on  the  intellect,  but  on  the  will ;  it  is  moral 
strength,  or  self-control,  and  thus  it  lies  in  action,  in  victorious 
contest.  The  Cynics  offer,  in  opposition  to  the  prejudices  of 
ancient  Greece,  the  apologia  of  toil  and  labour.  The  model 
they  set  up  was  Hercules,  "  the  only  Greek  hero  whose 
exploits  took  the  form  of  labours  "  (Michelet). 

Thus  Cynicism,  which  has  become  synonymous  with  an 
ethics  of  shamelessness,  was  in  reality  a  form  of  asceticism,  its 
main  principle  being  that  pleasure  is  an  evil,  pain  a  good. 

But  there  is,  in  the  teaching  of  the  Cynics,  a  startling 
discordance  between  their  lofty  premisses  and  the  frequently 
low  and  coarse  nature  of  their  conclusions.  To  the  Cynics 
belongs  the  honour  of  having  laid  down  the  principles  out  of 
which  Stoicism  arose,  but  their'  interpretation  of  these 
principles  was  often  contrary  to  all  morality.  Thus  they  threw 


30  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

away  the  merit  of  the  great  conception  that  there  is  no  good 
but  virtue  and  no  evil  but  vice,  and  made  good  fame 
(evSo^ia)  "  the  prating  of  fools "  (Epictetus,  Discourses,  Bk.  I, 
Chap.  24).  In  the  same  way,  in  the  contempt  for  wealth 
which  they  professed,  they  did  not  confine  themselves  to 
praising  temperance,  but  made  this  contempt  the  apologia  of 
poverty  and  a  life  of  mendicancy  (see  Xenophon's  Sym- 
posium). 

While  the  cynic  sage  soars  over  the  prejudices  of  the  state 
and  regards  the  master  and  the  slave  as  equals,  he  fails,  owing 
to  another  prejudice,  to  recognize  the  obligations  of  the  citizen. 
He  flouts  our  first  duty  to  our  country,  which  is  to  defend  it. 
In  derision  Diogenes  rolls  his  tub  about  in  Corinth  when  it  was 
besieged.  When  asked  which  is  his  country,  he  replies,  "  I  am 
a  citizen  of  the  world  "  (Kocr/moTroXir^  e<prj,  Diog.  L.  VI,  63). 
Finally,  in  his  anxiety  to  be  independent  and  self-sufficing 
the  Cynic  takes  care  not  to  burden  himself  with  a  family,  and 
regards  marriage  as  a  state  of  slavery. 

What  made  these  paradoxical  doctrines  dangerous  was  that 
they  were  presented  in  the  living  form  of  preaching  and 
example.  Zeller  calls  the  Cynics  the  "  Capuchin  friars  of 
antiquity."  They  were  indeed  mendicant  preachers,  and,  en- 
forcing their  precepts  by  example,  carried  out  all  their  own 
maxims,  not  excepting  the  most  coarse  and  shameless.  They 
said  of  themselves  that  they  were  like  the  choir  masters  who 
sing  a  note  loudly  in  order  to  give  it  to  their  pupils.  Their 
originality  lay  in  their  method  of  teaching,  and  this  also  was 
their  title  to  fame.  Diogenes,  for  instance,  is  still  "  one  of  the 
most  popular  figures  of  ancient  Greece  "  (Zeller). 

Another  strikingly  original  personality  was  that  of  Pyrrho, 
who  may  be  given  a  place  between  Antisthenes  and  Zeno.  He 
had  followed  the  army  of  Alexander,  and  appears  to  have  been 
much  struck  by  the  Indian  mystics.  Pyrrho  despised  logic  and 
science  only  because  he  held  them  to  be  of  no  profit  to  the  soul. 
His  scepticism  was  linked  with  his  ethical  views,  being  in  his 
opinion  a  means  of  attaining  virtue.  "  To  turn  doubt  into  an 
instrument  of  wisdom,  of  moderation,  firmness,  and  happi- 
ness, such  was  Pyrrho's  novel  conception,  the  leading  idea 
in  his  system  "  (Waddington,  Etude  sur  Pyrrhon).  No  doubt 
if  we  were  persuaded  that  there  is  for  us  in  life  neither 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          31 

good  nor  evil  we  should  indeed  become  "  indifferent  to  all 
things,"  and  be  spared  the  humiliation  of  superfluous  desires 
and  miserable  fears.  But  Pyrrho  omitted  to  draw  the 
distinction  made  later  by  the  Stoics  between  false  goods 
(wealth,  honour,  etc.),  which  they,  too,  treated  with  indifference, 
and  the  only  true  good,  which  is  virtue.  "  He  used  to  say 
that  nothing  was  honourable  or  disgraceful,  just  or  unjust. 
And  on  the  same  principle,  he  asserted  that  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  downright  truth  ;  but  that  men  did  everything  in 
consequence  of  custom  and  law.  For  that  nothing  was  more 
this  thing  than  that"  (D.L.  ix). 

Pyrrho  not  only  renounced  happiness,  but  did  not  even 
believe  in  practical  virtue.  Indifference,  which  frees  us  from 
all  passion,  all  desire,  he  held  to  be  wisdom  itself.  We  see  in 
him  a  disillusioned  man,  a  Greek  turned  ascetic. 


The   Stoics  :    Nature   and    Will  ;    KadfJKOv   and 
Private    Morality  ;    Wisdom  ;  Social  Morality  ;  Natural  Law  ; 
Cosmopolitanism  ;    Religious  Morality  ;    Piety  and  Resignation. 

The  maxim  which  the  Stoics  adopted  sums  up  the  ethics  of 
Cynicism  :  "  All  that  is  natural  is  good  "  (Ravaisson),  and 
man  has  only  to  live  in  conformity  with  nature  :  tyv 
6fj.o\oyov/uL€i>(a$  -777  (pvarei.  They  distinguished,  however,  two 
kinds  of  lives,  one  of  which  is  according  to  nature,  and  the 
other  according  to  reason  ;  but  these  two  are,  and  ought  to  be 
interdependent  and  at  one  with  each  other.  Life  according 
to  nature  is  based,  not  as  Epicurus  taught,  on  pleasure,  but  on 
a  fundamental  instinct  from  which  pleasure  takes  its  rise, 
which  is  the  love  of  a  being  for  itself.  In  the  Stoic  physics, 
animals,  plants,  and  organic  bodies,  severally  form  a  whole 
composed  of  material  parts,  and  bound  together  by  a  force 
(crJo-racrt?,  constitutio). 

The  acts  by  means  of  which  a  being  maintains  its  con- 
stitution are  its  functions  (KaOr/Kovra,  officia),  not  virtues,  but 
duties.  The  function,  or  KaOfjicov  is  merely  an  instinctive  act 
which  corresponds  with  the  needs  of  a  being,  and  thus  serves 
the  ends  of  Nature.  In  itself  it  is  neither  good  nor  bad  ;  it  is 
morally  indifferent.  To  become  a  virtuous  act  (KaTopOco/ma)  it 
needs  to  be  accomplished  by  reason  of,  and  with  a  view  to  the 
good.  There  is  a  whole  class  of  things  which  are  not  connected 


32  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

with  morality,  and  are  hence  indifferent  (aSid<popa,  indi/erentia). 
Such  are,  for  example,  health  and  riches.  Still,  as  they  assist 
in  the  conservation  or  in  the  development  of  a  being,  they  are 
useful  things,  advantages  (commoda)  if  not  actually  goods,  and 
preferable  (Trpo^y/meva,  potiora)  to  sickness  and  poverty,  which 
are  themselves  not  evils  but  inconveniences  (incommoda)  not 
preferable  and  to  be  avoided.  To  sum  up :  life  according  to 
nature,  which  is  merely  the  sensible  life  common  to  men  and 
animals,  already  admits  of  regularity  and  order,  but  the 
performance  of  functions  which  is  its  law  is  spontaneous  and 
instinctive. 

What  then  does  this  life  according  to  nature  need  in  order 
to  have  moral  value  ?  That  it  be  ruled  not  merely  by 
instinct,  but  by  free  will  and  reason.  Let  the  order  amongst 
the  functions  be  desired,  respected,  and  maintained  by  man 
himself,  and  there  will  then  be  room  for  merit  and  virtue.  It 
is  when  human  life,  instead  of  being  the  product  of  a  natural 
spontaneity  becomes  "  a  work  of  art "  (Ravaisson)  that  morality 
appears.  In  other  words,  conduct  that  is  merely  in  conformity 
with  nature  or  order,  and  is  not  regulated  with  a  view  to 
order,  cannot  be  called  virtuous.  No  doubt  virtue  must  have, 
as  Kant  would  say,  a  matter,  and  this  it  finds  in  the  natural 
functions  ;  but  virtue  proper  lies  in  the  form,  that  is,  in  the  will 
which,  stretching  over  (TOI/O?)  all  our  acts,  constitutes  their 
unity  and  their  harmony,  as  the  divine  force  which  extends 
throughout  all  the  elements  constitutes  the  living  unity  of  the 
universe.  The  formalism  that  separates  virtue  and  vice  from 
the  actions  in  which  they  express  themselves,  was  professed  by 
Ariston  of  Chios  alone,  and  in  this  he  breaks  away  from  the 
Stoic  orthodoxy. 

It  is  true  that,  with  the  Stoics,  to  live  according  to  reason 
was  to  live  according  to  nature,  but  the  principle  of  this  life 
in  agreement  with  nature  is  choice,  free  will,  not  a  blind  and 
natural  instinct.  Hence  this  school  had  a  double  tendency ; 
sometimes  it  was  with  the  will,  with  the  harmony  with  one's 
self,  that  they  were  concerned,  and  then  indifference  was 
exaggerated  to  the  point  of  Cynicism  (e.g.  in  the  paradoxes : 
"  All  error  was  equally  bad ;  Who  is  not  wise  is  mad,  etc."). 
At  other  times  they  approached  the  Peripatetic  doctrine,  as 
in  their  theory  of  KaOijKovTa.  and 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          33 

And  now,  what  was  the  practical  morality  of  the  Stoics  ? 
Let  us  first  consider  it  as  it  appears  in  the  individual. 
The  virtue  that  regulates  our  conduct  as  regards  our 
passions  was  by  the  Stoics  called  not  temperance,  but  apathy 
(onrdOeta).  For  with  them  passion  was  not  a  natural  appetite, 
legitimate  when  restrained,  but  "  a  movement  of  the  mind 
which  is  irrational  and  contrary  to  nature."  Aversa  a  recta 
ratione,  contra  naturam  animi  commotio  (Cic.  Tusc.  IV,  6). 

Passion  cannot  have  its  source  in  nature,  from  which  only 
good  can  flow ;  it  is  therefore  reason,  but  reason  ill  regulated 
and  corrupted.  Being  an  act  of  reason,  it  is  a  kind  of 
judgment,  a  wrong  opinion.  It  arises  in  us  out  of  ignorance  of 
the  good ;  for  if  we  were  imbued  with  the  thought  that  happi- 
ness is  in  virtue  alone,  we  should  be  insensible  to  wealth,  to 
honours,  to  all  those  false  goods  which  ordinarily  are  the  object 
of  our  desires.  In  order  to  free  ourselves  from  our  passions 
we  have  then  only  to  correct  our  judgments.  Let  our  mind 
refuse  its  consent  (cruy/caTaOecr/f,  assensio]  to  those  flattering 
images  which  stimulate  our  lust,  and  the  guilty  desires  will  then 
be  suppressed.  But  are  we  to  close  our  hearts  to  every  kind 
of  feeling  ?  No,  we  must  not  understand  the  Stoics  literally 
when  they  speak  of  insensibility,  cnrdQeia.  Although  they  con- 
demn pleasure,  sadness,  desire,  and  fear  (laetitia,  aegritudo, 
libido,  metus)  (Cic.  Tusc.  IV,  6),  all  of  which  disturb  the  mind, 
still  they  allow  that,  by  a  fortunate  compensation,  joy,  fore- 
sight, and  will  (gaudium,  cautio,  voluntas),  which  do  not 
deprive  the  mind  of  peace  and  strength  (constantia},  may  have 
a  place  in  the  heart  of  the  sage. 

"  Do  you  ask  wherein  to  lay  the  foundation  [of  a  happy  life]  ?  Take  no 
pleasure  in  vanities.  .  .  .  You  think  that  I  deprive  you  of  many  plea- 
sures when  I  take  away  from  you  all  fortuitous  things,  and  advise  you 
not  to  indulge  even  hope  itself,  the  sweetest  of  all  delights  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  assure  you  I  would  have  you  always  enjoy  pleasure,  but  I  would 
have  it  originate  at  home.  .  .  .  Other  enjoyments  affect  not  the-niind, 
they  only  smooth  the  brow  .  .  .  unless  perhaps  you  think  a  man  enjoys 
pleasure  because  he  laughs.  .  .  .  Believe  me,  true  joy  is  a  serious  thing  " 
(Seneca,  Epistle  XXIII). 

So  understood,  apathy  includes  all  the  private  virtues. 
Courage  is  a  form  of  apathy,  and  may  be  defined  as  an  undis- 
turbed attitude  in  the  face  of  danger,  sickness,  and  death. 

II.  C 


34 

The  freedom  and  independence  which  the  Stoics  claim  for  the 
sage  must  belong  to  a  mind  that  has  become  insensible  to  the 
favour  of  fortune  and  of  men.  In  short,  to  have  reached 
perfect  apathy  is  also  to  possess  wisdom,  upon  which  it  is 
founded.  The  sole  object  of  wisdom  is  not,  however,  to  regu- 
late our  affections  by  showing  us  the  goods  on  which  exclusively 
to  fasten  our  desires.  Wisdom  is  denned  by  the  Stoics  as  the 
knowledge  of  things  human  and  divine,  by  which  we  are  to 
understand  the  knowledge  of  the  universal  order  estab- 
lished by  divine  reason,  to  which  the  moral  law  demands  that 
we  conform  our  will.  It  is  more  especially  the  knowledge  of 
duty.  All  moral  activity  flows  from  wisdom ;  and  the  Stoics 
who  did  not  separate  action  from  knowledge,  or  will  from 
reason,  naturally  attribute  every  perfection  to  the  sage.  For 
by  wisdom  they  meant  right  reason  joined  to  a  good  will,  and 
there  is  no  virtue  that  does  not  belong  to  wisdom  when  thus 
denned. 

The  Stoic  sage  being,  like  God,  self-sufficing,  ought,  one 
would  think,  to  retire  from  society,  since  he  regards  it  as  one 
of  those  indifferent  things  in  which  his  virtue  is  not  concerned. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  his  activity  is  extended  by  social 
life,  which  consequently  widens  the  sphere  of  his  duties,  and 
affords  him  the  opportunity  of  practising  justice.  Hence  he 
will  feel  the  obligation  to  give  a  place  in  his  soul  to  the 
social  virtues.  The  principle  upon  which  society  and  justice  rest 
is  law.  Law  has  its  source  in  nature,  not  in  opinion  or  custom 
(Cic.  De  Leg.  I,  xiv).  There  is  a  supreme  law  which  has  existed 
from  all  ages,  before  any  legislative  enactments  were  drawn  up 
in  writing  (Ibid.  Ch.  VI).  And  infractions  of  this  law  are 
punished  by  the  torments  of  remorse,  symbolically  represented 
by  the  Furies  of  the  myths  (Ibid.  Ch.  XIV). 

Natural  law  emanates  from  divine  reason,  or  rather  is 
divine  reason  itself  taking  the  form  of  a  command.  Chrysippus 
defines  it  as  "  the  highest  reason  implanted  in  nature 
which  prescribes  those  things  which  ought  to  be  done 
and  forbids  the  contrary.  Lex  est  ratio  summa,  insita  in 
natura,  quae  jubet  ea  quae  facienda  sunt,  prohibetque  contraria 
(De  Leg.  I,  vi). 

Religious  morality  is  the  consummation  of  social  morality. 
Every  rational  being  participates  in  the  divine  life.  In 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          35 

virtue  of  their  reason  all  men  are  of  the  family  of  the  gods  : 
ut  komines  deorum  agnatione  et  gente  teneantur  (De  Leg.  I,  vii), 
and  in  this  common  origin  they  find  the  first  cause  of  their 
unity  and  mutual  love. 

There  exists  a  natural  society,  consisting  of  rational  beings, 
which  stands  in  the  same  contrast  to  civil  society,  as  does  the 
divine  law  to  the  human.  This  society  recognizes  neither 
Greeks  nor  barbarians,  neither  strangers  nor  enemies,  neither 
masters  nor  slaves,  but  grants  the  rights  of  the  state,  Without 
distinction,  to  all  those  who  participate  in  reason.  Nay  more, 
reason  circulates  through  the  universe,  extends  to  all  beings ; 
hence  the  state  which  is  governed  by  reason  is  identified  with 
the  world,  and  justice  is  the  law  that  expresses  the  order  of 
things.  From  these  lofty  conceptions  springs  philanthropy,  or 
the  love  of  the  human  race,  a  virtue  hitherto  unknown,  and 
revealed  to  the  world  for  the  first  time  by  the  Stoics.  Cicero 
uses  the  Christian  expression  'charity'  (Caritas generis  humani). 
And  Seneca  says  :  "  Wherever  there  is  a  man  there  is  occasion 
for  a  good  deed  "  (Sen.  Ep.  XXIV,  3).  The  Stoics  substituted 
universal  brotherhood  for  the  patriotism  which  had  been 
ruined  and  deprived  of  its  object  when  the  smaller 
states  disappeared  in  the  empires  of  Alexander  and  Rome. 
Their  cosmopolitanism  did  not  prevent  them  from  being  law- 
abiding  citizens.  The  laws  of  the  state  are  a  reflection  of 
natural  and  divine  law.  Veri  juris  germanaeque  justitiae 
solidam  et  expressam  ejfigiem  nullam  tenemus,  umbra  et  imaginibus 
utimur.  Eos  ipsas  utinam  seqiieremur  !  (De  Off.  Ill,  XVII). 
So  long  as  reason  governs,  or  even  makes  its  voice  heard  in 
the  state,  the  Stoic  wise  man  is  glad  to  take  his  place  and  live 
in  it ;  he  accepts  his  share  of  public  offices  and  performs  his 
duty  as  a  citizen. 

The  Stoic  formulae  of  virtue  can  easily  be  transformed  into 
pious  maxims.  To  live  according  to  nature,  to  obey  the  law, 
what  is  this  but  to  honour  the  God  invoked  by  Cleanthes 
in  these  terms  :  "  0  Lord  of  Nature,  Thou  who  governest  all 
things  with  law  ;  0  Jupiter,  Hail !  " 

Thus  morality  leads  up  to  religion,  and  piety  was  made  the 
goal  of  virtue  not  only  by  Epictetus  or  Antoninus,  but  also  by 
one  of  the  founders  of  Stoicism.  The  religious  worship  of 
the  Stoics  was  primarily  homage  to  the  Sovereign  Eeason. 


36  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Thee,  O  Jupiter,  it  is  lawful  for  all  mortals  to  address.  .  .  .  There- 
fore I  will  forever  sing  Thee  and  celebrate  Thy  power.  All  this  universe 
rolling  round  the  earth  obeys  Thee,  and  follows  willingly  at  Thy 
command.  Such  a  minister  hast  Thou  in  Thy  invincible  hands,  the 
two-edged,  flaming,  vivid  thunderbolt.  .  .  .  By  it  dost  Thou  control  that 
common  reason  which  circulates  through  all  things,  and  which  is  in 
the  great  and  in  the  smaller  lights  of  heaven.  Such,  Thou  King  Supreme, 
is  thy  mighty  rule  o'er  all  things "  (Hymn  of  Cleanthes,  trans,  by  Sir 
Alex.  Grant). 

Knowledge  of  the  order  established  by  God  in  the  world 
inclines  our  will  to  conform  to  it.  For  this  order  is  necessary. 
The  facts  of  Nature,  the  events  of  history,  form  an  indissoluble 
chain  whose  links  were  rivetted  by  Fate,  and  which  chance  can- 
not break.  Ducunt  volentem  fata,  nolentem  trahunt  (Sen.  Trag.}. 
But  God  does  not  only  constrain  us  by  force ,  He  also  persuades 
us  by  reason.  The  reign  of  necessity  is  at  the  same  time  the 
triumph  of  justice,  and  destiny  does  the  work  of  Providence. 
So  that,  while  it  would  be  merely  unreasonable  not  to  accept 
the  inflexible  law  of  Fate,  it  would  be  impious  and  sacrilegious 
to  oppose,  if  even  only  by  an  impotent  will,  the  wise  decrees  of 
Providence.  Deo  parere  libertas  est  (Sen.  De  Vita  beata).  To 
be  pious  is  to  will  what  God  wills,  because  we  know  not  only 
that  His  will  is  always  accomplished,  but  also  that  it  is 
always  worthy  to  be  accomplished. 

"  O  King,  most  high,  nothing  is  done  without  Thee  either  in  heaven  or 
on  earth,  or  in  the  sea,  except  what  the  wicked  do  in  their  foolishness. 
Thou  makest  order  out  of  disorder,  and  what  is  worthless  becomes  precious 
in  Thy  sight ;  for  Thou  hast  fitted  together  good  and  evil  into  one,  and 
hast  established  one  law  that  exists  for  ever.  But  the  wicked  fly  from 
Thy  law,  unhappy  ones,  and  though  they  desire  to  possess  what  is  good, 
yet  they  see  not,  neither  do  they  hear,  the  universal  law  of  God  "  (Hymn 
of  Cleanthes). 

The  Stoics,  however,  far  from  treating  virtue  as  subordinate 
to  piety,  regard  the  fear  even  of  the  gods  as  contemptible 
when  it  takes  in  the  soul  the  place  of  the  desire  for  the  good. 
Thus  religion  with  them  is  primarily  devotion  to  duty.  Since 
justice  reigns,  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  a  matter  of 
indifference.  "No,"  says  Chrysippus,  "it  is  not  through  the 
fear  of  the  gods  that  we  should  try  to  dissuade  men  from 
acting  unjustly.  All  this  talk  about  divine  vengeance  is  open 
to  discussion,  and  involves  many  difficulties.  It  is  very  like 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          37 

the  stories  about  Acco  and  Alphito,  by  which  women  prevent 
little  children  from  doing  wrong." 

The  Stoics'  attitude  with  regard  to  the  popular  religion  is  a 
further  proof  of  the  ethical  nature  of  their  faith.  They  would 
disturb  none  of  the  things  that  help  to  preserve  morality. 
The  Stoics  used  the  mythological  legends  in  the  same  way  as 
Christianity  utilized  the  pagan  temples :  they  made  them 
serve  their  faith.  But  while  they  converted  ancient  religion 
into  an  ethical  symbolism,  the  Stoics  were  not  the  belated 
apologists  of  paganism,  but,  to  say  the  least,  the  promoters  of 
a  new  religion  which  we  have  already  defined  as  the  "cult 
of  duty." 

Epicureanism  in  Home ;  Lucretius.  Roman  Stoicism ; 
Cicero's  Eclecticism  ;  Seneca  ;  Direction  of  Consciences. 

In  their  philosophy  the  Eomans  lacked  originality,  but  not 
in  their  morality.  No  doubt  their  ethical  doctrines  were 
borrowed  from  Greece.  But,  as  is  always  the  case,  these 
doctrines  became  modified  by  contact  with  the  habits  and  cus- 
toms which  they  were  intended  to  influence.  Epicureanism  and 
Stoicism  could  only  be  adopted  in  Borne  by  becoming  Roman. 

Lucretius  believed  himself  to  be  the  respectful  disciple,  the 
faithful  expounder  of  Epicurean  teaching ;  but,  as  has  been 
noticed,  Epicureanism  with  him  takes  a  strong  "  Eoman  tinge," 
becomes  "  virile,  and  assumes  a  stern,  haughty,  imperious 
tone  "  (Martha).  The  precepts  of  Epicurus  as  uttered  by  him 
take  at  any  rate  a  fresh  accent.  Love,  ambition,  fill  him  with 
a  kind  of  terror  unknown  to  Epicurus.  The  Athenian  sage 
found  within  himself  the  best  remedy  for  his  passions,  namely 
disenchantment.  But  Lucretius  has  none  of  this  calm  reason- 
ableness ;  of  love  he  gives  a  terrifying  picture,  describing  it  in 
the  same  words  as  the  plague  and  other  scourges  (St.  Beuve). 
But  even  while  lifting  his  voice  with  all  the  moralist's 
burning  zeal  against  this  blameworthy  passion,  he  portrays 
it  so  truly  and  so  forcibly,  he  renders  so  well  the  emotion 
belonging  to  it,  that  it  has  been  thought  he  must  himself 
have  suffered  from  the  evils  he  describes.  The  Epicurean  ethics 
were  calculated  to  attract  minds  that  were  either  unusually 
refined  or  unusually  indolent.  And  so  in  Eome,  with  the 
exception  of  the  sage  and  prudent  Atticus,  it  had  none  but 


38  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

unworthy  votaries,  who  borrowed  its  name  to  cover  their  vices 
(e.g.  Gabinius,  Piso,  and  Caesar).  Epicureanism  was  repugnant 
to  the  Roman  temperament,  for  the  Romans  were  Stoics  before 
the  letter,  and  as  philosophers  they  became  Stoics  after  the 
spirit. 

Cicero  was  as  remarkable  for  his  fluctuations  between 
different  schools  as  Lucretius  for  the  firmness  with  which 
he  adhered  to  one.  We  cannot  say  of  Cicero  that  he  was  a 
Stoic,  but  only  that  he  was  inclined  to  Stoicism.  He  was  a 
learned  historian  of  philosophy,  rather  than  a  philosopher. 
He  defended  and  seemed  to  adopt  different  systems  in  turn, 
just  as  he  might  in  his  capacity  of  a  conscientious  and  honest 
advocate  plead  various  causes  provided  they  were  honourable. 
Thus  he  is  a  Stoic  in  the  De  Officiis,  which  is  practically 
a  translation,  and  in  the  Tnsculans;  he  is  a  Peripatetic, 
and  the  opponent  of  Epicureanism  in  the  De  Finibus; 
and  he  is  an  Academic  throughout  all  his  writings. 
Cicero's  contribution  to  philosophy  has  no  unity  beyond 
that  derived  from  his  own  personality.  His  writings 
reveal  an  upright  and  elevated  mind,  devoted  to  law  and 
justice,  and  careful  of  the  interests  of  his  Roman  fatherland. 
He  gives  evidence  of  an  upright  and  steadfast  conscience, 
in  the  first  place,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  deals  with  the 
subtle  and  often  treacherous  art  of  casuistry.  He  denounces 
all  legal  frauds,  bad  faith  in  the  making  of  contracts,  intrigues 
for  obtaining  legacies.  He  lays  down  the  principles  of  the 
law  of  nations,  of  generosity  to  the  conquered,  and  observance 
of  treaties  (De  Officiis).  Again  he  proves  himself  a  subtle 
moralist  when  he  points  out  the  rules  of  decorum,  and 
defines  those  pleasing  obligations  of  good  breeding  which 
are  part  of  an  exquisite  politeness,  and  matters  rather 
of  good  taste  than  of  conscience.  But  his  is  above  all 
a  generous  mind,  whose  sympathy  naturally  inclines  to 
the  noblest  doctrines :  hence  he  speaks  with  equal  admira- 
tion of  Zeno  and  of  Aristotle,  and  considers  indeed  that  they 
differ  only  in  the  language  they  use :  Sentit  idem  Zeno  quod 
Xenocrates,  quod  Aristoteles,  loquitur  olio  modo  (De  Ley.  I,  21). 

Why  is  he  so  violent  in  his  attack  on  Epicureanism  ?  It  is 
because  this  doctrine  lowers  the  ethical  ideal,  because  it 
would  relieve  man  of  his  duties  as  a  citizen,  as  of  a  heavy 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   ANCIENT  TIMES          39 

burden,  and  this  is  offensive  to  Cicero's  patriotic  feelings.  He 
even  becomes  intolerant  when  dealing  with  Epicurus.  "  It  is 
not  a  philosopher  that  is  needed  to  refute  this  language,  but  a 
censor  to  condemn  it." 

Whilst  philosophy  is  for  Cicero  the  occupation  of  a  cultured 
leisure  (liberate  otium),  Seneca  looks  upon  it  as  a  profession  ; 
its  object  for  him  is,  not  to  give  intellectual  pleasure  (oblecta- 
mentum),  but  to  cure  souls  (remedium :  Epist.  CXVII,  33) ;  he 
preaches  philosophy  with  an  ardour  that  aims  less  at  dogma 
than  at  precept. 

"...  Here  is  no  room  for  jesting.  You  are  called  upon  to  succour 
the  distressed  ;  you  are  under  an  obligation  to  lend  all  possible  assistance 
to  the  shipwrecked,  to  the  prisoner,  to  the  sick,  to  the  poor  and  needy, 
and  to  the  unhappy  under  sentence  of  death  "  (Epist.  XLVIII). 

He  never  loses  sight  of  the  conversion  and  the  salvation  of 
souls.  The  Treatise  on  Clemency,  dedicated  to  •  Nero,  the 
Consolations  to  Helvia,  Marcia,  and  Polybius,  are  works  of  direct 
moral  advice.  The  Letters  to  Lucilius  are  a  veritable  treatise 
on  moral  direction.  The  philosopher  is  seen  grappling  with 
all  the  diseases  of  the  soul :  weariness,  hardness,  the  fashionable 
levity  which  scoffs  at  virtue  and  at  philosophers :  "  He  may 
make  me  laugh,  but  perhaps  I  shall  make  him  weep  "  (Epist. 
XXIX,  .7). 

Side  by  side  with  the  director  of  conscience  there  is  in 
Seneca  the  casuist — witness  his  justification  of  the  murder  of 
Agrippina,  and  his  personal  apologia  in  the  De  Vita  Beata. 
He  came  from  Spain,  the  country  of  casuistry.  But  what 
strikes  us  most  in  him,  is  that  he  is  much  more 
deeply  imbued  than  Cicero  with  the  humanitarian  principles 
of  the  Stoics.  In  slaves,  he  sees,  not  merely  '  servants 
hired  in  perpetuity  "  {De  Off.  I,  13),  but  "  friends  of  humble 
estate"  (Epist.  XLVII).  They  are  slaves,  but,  above  all, 
they  are  men.  Cicero  was  not  above  calling  the  gladiatorial 
games  a  school  for  courage  :  "  When  it  is  the  guilty  that  fight, 
we  might  by  our  ears  perhaps,  but  certainly  by  our  eyes  we 
could  not,  have  better  training  to  harden  us  against  pain  or 
death  "  (Tusc.  II,  17).  Seneca,  on  the  contrary,  does  not  wish 
the  people  to  be  taught  cruelty :  "  This  man  has  committed  a 
theft ;  what  then,  he  deserves  to  be  hanged :  another  slew  a 
man ;  it  is  but  just  he  be  slain  himself.  And  what  hast  thou 


40  THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

deserved,  oh   wretch,  who  canst  take  delight  in  this  horrid 
spectacle  ? "  (Epist.  VII). 

While  they  condemned  pity,  the  Stoics  nevertheless  held 
that  the  principle  of  assisting  the  poor  is  founded  on  natural 
right.  In  this  way  they  connected  charity  with  justice,  and 
they  represent  both  as  a  strict  obligation.  "  Why,"  says 
Seneca  to  the  rich  man,  "  are  you  so  sparing  of  your  property 
as  though  it  were  your  own  ?  You  have  but  the  management 
of  it "  (De  Benef.  VI,  3).  There  is  an  element  of  socialism  in 
the  Stoic  ethics  ;  they  do  not  admit  that  the  rights  of  property 
can  be  pleaded  as  exempting  us  from  the  duty  of  alms-giving. 
It  is  by  the  insight  and  courage  he  shows  in  his  opinions  that 
Seneca  appeals  to  us;  his  ethical  teaching  proves  that  a 
veritable  revolution  had  taken  place  in  the  minds  of  men. 

EpictetuSt     Marcus  Aurelius ;    Pious  Resignation. 

Seneca  writes  for  his  friend  Lucilius,  for  his  mother  Helvia, 
for  his  pupil  Nero;  Epictetus,  on  the  other  hand,  lectures  in 
public  and  addresses  the  people.  This  fact  in  itself  shows  the 
development  of  ethical  preaching  in  Rome.  Philosophy  had 
now  become  a  profession  (Discourses,  I,  4)  or  rather  a  mission 
and  priestly  function.  The  conception  which  Epictetus  formed 
of  it  was  so  .elevated,  that  he  enjoins  those  who  exercise  this 
function  to  have  neither  wife  nor  child,  to  give  up  public  life, 
in  a  word,  to  sacrifice  all,  for  the  sake  of  the  unique  privilege 
of  being  an  instructor  of  the  human  race  (Discourses,  III,  22). 

In  thus  assuming  the  direction  of  men's  consciences, 
Philosophy  undertook  at  the  same  time  the  office  of  consulting 
their  needs,  and  responding  to  their  aspirations.  So  Epictetus, 
himself  doubly  a  slave,  having  as  master  Epaphroditus  and  as 
Emperor  Domitian,  holds  out  to  mankind,  oppressed  by  the 
yoke  of  the  Ctesars,  the  proud  consolation  that  despotism  has 
no  power  over  the  liberty  of  the  soul. 

"  Whether  then  have  you  nothing,"  asks  the  philosopher  of  his  disciple, 
"  which  is  in  your  own  power,  which  depends  on  your  self  only  and  cannot 
be  taken  from  you,  or  have  you  anything  of  the  kind  ? — I  know  not. — Is 
any  man  able  to  make  you  assent  to  that  which  is  false  ? — No  man. — Can 
a  man  force  you  to  desire  to  move  towards  that  to  which  you  do  not 
choose  ? — He  can,  for  when  he  threatens  me  with  death  or  bonds,  he  com- 
pels me  to  desire  to  move  towards  it. — If  then  you  despise  death  and 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          41 

bonds,  do  you  still  pay  any  regard  to  him  ? — No. — Is  then  the  despising 
of  death  an  act  of  your  own,  or  is  it  not  yours  ? — It  is  my  act "  (Discourses, 
IV,  1,  trans,  by  Long). 

True  liberty  consists  in  controlling  our  thoughts  and 
desires,  in  defending  ourselves  against  external  evils,  entrenched 
in  the  impregnable  fortress  of  the  will.  Some  things  depend 
upon  ourselves,  others  do  not.  (rot  e<p'  VIMV,  TO.  owe  e<£'  ^/MV, 
Manuel,  I.)  What  depends  on  ourselves  is  our  thought, 
whereas  health,  wealth,  and  all  external  advantages,  are  things 
we  have  no  control  over.  Let  us  only  cling  to  what  depends  on 
ourselves,  and  nothing  can  affect  us.  Liberty  of  mind  is  our 
most  precious  possession,  not  only  because  it  frees  us  from  all 
the  evils  created  by  opinion,  but  also  because  it  is  one  with 
reason  (TO  rjye/moi>iKov\  that  divine  part  of  the  soul,  and  there- 
fore our  dignity  (a^/w/xa)  rests  on  it.  We  should  not  hesitate 
even  to  sacrifice  our  lives,  in  order  to  maintain  this  freedom  intact. 

If  we  find  it  hard  to  renounce  all  the  supposed  joys  of  life, 
if  we  persist  in  looking  upon  sickness,  poverty,  and  death,  as 
evils,  it  is  because  we  do  not  remember  that  what  seems  to  us 
the  caprice  of  fortune  is  part  of  the  scheme  of  a  wise  Provi- 
dence leading  all  things  by  necessary  means  to  the  good. 
Epictetus'  doctrine  of  resignation  loses  its  austerity  as  it  passes 
into  respect  for  the  Divine  Will,  faith  in  Providence,  in  short, 
a  pious  submission :  he  does  his  duty  and  leaves  the  rest  to 
the  gods. 

"  For  what  else  can  I  do,  a  lame  old  man,  than  sing  hymns  to  God  ?  If 
I  were  a  nightingale,  I  would  do  the  part  of  a  nightingale.  If  I  were  a 
swan,  I  would  do  it  like  a  swan.  But  now  I  am  a  rational  creature  and  I 
ought  to  praise  God :  this  is  my  work  ;  I  do  it,  nor  will  I  desert  this 
post,  so  long  as  I  am  allowed  to  keep  it ;  and  I  exhort  you  to  join  in  the 
same  song"  (Discourses,  I,  XIII). 

Epictetus  sums  up  his  moral  doctrine  in  this  brief  and 
negative  formula  :  "  Endure  and  abstain  "  (ave-^ov  KOI  cnre-^ov). 
Marcus  Aurelius,  also,  but  more  plaintively,  proclaims  the 
impotency  of  man.  The  world  pursues  its  invariable  course, 
and  we  can  change  nothing  of  its  laws.  Yet  is  our  destiny 
linked  to  that  of  the  world ;  and  carried  along  as  we  are  by 
the  current  of  things,  we  can  only  exclaim  :  "  I  am  in  harmony 
with  all  that  is  a  part  of  thy  harmony,  Great  Universe  ! " 
(Medit.  IV,  23). 


42  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

The  whole  of  virtue  lies  in  resignation,  and  we  do  not  even 
know  that  this  resignation  is  of  a  pious  nature,  for  it  may  be 
submission  to  a  blind  necessity,  and  not  to  a  divine  goodness. 
In  vain  does  Marcus  Aurelius  say,  "  All  that  happens,  happens 
aright"  (Medit.  IV,  9).  Doubt  still  lingers  in  his  mind : 
"  The  world  is  either  a  confused  mingling  of  elements  which 
combine  and  disperse,  or  a  unity  of  order  and  Providence" 
(Medit.  VI,  10).  He  concludes,  it  is  true,  that  in  neither  case 
has  the  sage  anything  to  fear.  Nor  is  he  much  more  successful 
in  his  vindication  of  social  duties.  "  What  strikes  one  most  in 
Marcus  Aurelius  is,  no  doubt,  his  conception  of  the  unity  of  the 
world,  the  close  connection  between  all  its  parts,  and  the  con- 
sequent obligation  upon  all  men,  as  members  of  one  body,  to 
live  each  for  the  other  "  (Eavaisson).  But,  according  to  him, 
the  ideal  which  philosophers  treat  of  is  very  far  removed  from 
the  reality  of  things.  We  have  to  resign  ourselves  to  the 
injustice  of  men :  "  Protest  till  you  burst :  men  will  go  on 
just  the  same  "  (Medit.  VIII,  4). 

One  thing  alone  can  console  us  for  the  evil  done  to  us,  and 
that  is  the  selfish  reflection  that  we  are  not  sullied  thereby. 
"  Say  men  kill  you,  quarter  you,  pursue  you  with  execrations, 
what  has  that  to  do  with  your  understanding  remaining 
pure,  lucid,  temperate,  just  ?  "  (Medit.  VIII,  50). 

Marcus  Aurelius  does  not  hate  men — they  are  wicked 
and  should  be  pitied ;  but  if  he  can  be  said  to  love  them, 
it  is  with  a  love  that  knows  no  illusion  and  feels  itself  to 
be  powerless. 

Neo-Platonism :  Mystical  Ethics ;  The  Return  to  God ; 
Practical  Virtues. 

The  Alexandrians  were  disciples  of  both  Aristotle  and 
Plato,  but  they  introduced  into  their  ethics  an  element  which 
was  foreign  to  the  Greek  spirit,  namely,  the  contempt  for  action 
traditional  in  the  East,  which  naturally  asserted  itself,  more 
especially  at  a  period  of  oppression  and  civil  disturbances, 
such  as  the  beginning  of  the  third  century.  It  is  when  a  life 
of  action  is  closed  to  them  that  men  take  refuge  in  the  contem- 
plative life.  Having  no  fatherland  on  earth,  they  seek  to 
found  one  above,  and  this  is  the  sense  in  which  we  must 
understand  these  words  of  Plotinus  : 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          43 

"  Let  us  fly  to  our  dear,  our  true  fatherland.  .  .  .  Our  fatherland  i» 
there  whence  we  came,  and  there,  too,  is  our  father.  Our  feet  are  power- 
less to  carry  us  thither ;  they  can  bear  us  only  from  end  to  end  of  the 
earth.  Nor  will  ships  serve  our  need,  nor  chariots  drawn  by  swift 
horses.-  Let  us  leave  such  vain  means  aside  for  seeing  our  dear  fatherland 
again  ;  we  have  but  to  close  our  bodily  eyes  and  open  the  eyes  of  the 
spirit "  (Enneads  I,  VI,  8). 

The  ethical  doctrine  of  the  Alexandrians  was  mystical,  like 
all  their  philosophy.  Evil,  they  taught,  comes  to  the  soul,  in 
the  first  place,  from  its  having  been  born  into  an  individual  life, 
whereby  it  was  separated  from  the  soul  of  the  universe.  For 
in  its  ethical  sense  the  procession  (-TrpooSos)  of  the  Alexandrians 
is  a  fall.  Again,  evil  for  man  is,  above  all,  to  love  himself  a& 
an  imperfect  and  finite  being  and  to  be  content  with  his 
state  of  degradation ;  while  the  good  is  the  emancipation  of  the 
soul  from  the  sensible  world,  her  withdrawal  into  herself,  her 
return  towards  the  universal  soul,  towards  intelligence,  towards 
the  One.  Conversion,  or  the  turning  of  the  soul  to  God, 
culminates  in  union  with  God,  or  ecstasy,  which  is  the  perfect 
good. 

Moral  life  is  therefore  a  continuous  progress  towards 
perfection,  an  unceasing  effort  to  reach  God.  The  virtues 
belonging  to  it  mark  the  degrees  in  this  ascent  of  the  soul, 
which  is  called  conversion.  They  proceed  one  from  another, 
and  are  developed  in  dialectic  order  in  the  succession  of  time. 
The  lowest  virtues,  which  mark  the  first  stage  in  moral  life,  are 
the  practical  ones :  prudence,  courage,  temperance,  justice. 
These  have  scarcely  more  than  a  negative  value;  they  purify  the 
soul,  draw  it  away  from  evil  and  save  it  from  sin ;  they  bring  it 
to  the  threshold  of  Divine  Life,  but  do  not  cause  it  to  enter 
therein.  They  are  like  the  virtues  of  Hercules,  by  which  he 
desired  to  pass  from  earth  to  heaven,  but  are  not  yet  the 
virtues  of  the  Gods  themselves.  They  are  not  the  goal,  but 
they  are  the  steps  leading  to  it. 

In  the  contemplative  life,  to  which  the  practical  virtues 
are  the  means  of  approach,-  there  are  also  various  stages. 
The  object  of  contemplation  is  the  Beautiful.  But  there  are 
two  kinds  of  beauty :  sensible  beauty,  which  is  the  triumph  of 
form  over  matter,  and  moral  beauty,  which  is  the  triumph  of 
intellect  over  the  passions  and  senses.  Contrasting  one  with 


44  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

the  other  Plotinus  said  :  "  The  face  of  Justice  is  more  beautiful 
than  the  evening  Star."  The  different  contemplative  virtues 
correspond  to  the  different  degrees  in  beauty.  While 
thought,  as  pure  activity,  was  regarded  by  Aristotle  as  self- 
sufficing,  it  was,  for  the  Alexandrians,  a  movement  towards  an 
end.  Thought  tries  to  get  beyond  itself,  it  rises  above  beauty 
in  its  endeavour  to  reach  an  object  which  is  outside  and  above 
itself,  namely,  the  Good.  Beauty  gives  rise  to  love,  but  it  is 
not  the  principle  of  love.  What  renders  beauty  admirable  is 
the  Good  that  shines  through  it ;  that  is  the  reason,  said 
Plotinus,  why  the  face  of  a  man  alive  is  more  beautiful  than 
the  face  of  one  dead,  and  a  living  animal  is  more  beautiful 
than  an  animal  in  a  picture,  even  if  the  latter  possesses  a  more 
perfect  form. 

Contemplation  is,  therefore,  an  endless  moving  towards 
God;  it  does  not  bring  us  into  the  divine  life,  but  prepares  us 
for  it,  and  leads  us  thither.  We  cannot  unite  ourselves  to  the 
Good,  we  can  only  deserve,  by  our  virtues,  that  it  should  unite 
itself  to  us.  We  can  only  keep  our  eyes  fixed  on  the  horizon 
(which  was  the  symbol  of  contemplation)  waiting  for  the  sun 
(the  symbol  of  the  Good)  to  rise  above  the  ocean.  Plotinus, 
continuing  this  metaphor,  represents  thought  as  the  wave,  on 
which  we  are  lifted  up  and  carried  along. 

Thus  all  the  practical  and  contemplative  virtues  are  no  more 
than  the  initiation  into  the  divine  life ;  their  goal  and 
their  reward  is  ecstasy,  or  union  with  God.  In  contemplation 
the  soul  is  still  distinguished  from  her  object,  in  ecstasy  she 
becomes  one  with  it. 

"  They  who  know  nothing  of  this  higher  state,"  says  Plotinus,  "  may 
gain  some  conception  of  it  from  the  love  known  to  us  here  below,  when 
we  love  passionately  and  attain  that  which  we  love.  But  the  love  of  this 
world  has  for  its  object  nought  but  mortal  things  and  shadows.  True 
love  is  found  only  above  .  .  .  there  nothing  remains  but  that  which  loves 
and  that  which  is  loved,  and  these  are  no  longer  two,  together  they  make 
but  one  "  (Enneads,  VI,  IX,  9). 

There  are  no  words  in  which  to  describe  ecstasy,  because 
ecstasy  transcends  reason.  It  is  arrived  at,  says  Porphyry,  "  by 
the  suspension  of  all  the  intellectual  faculties,  by  repose  and  the 
annihilation  of  thought.  As  the  soul  learns  to  know  sleep  when 
slumbering,  so  it  is  in  ecstasy  or  the  annihilation  of  all  the 


THE   ETHICAL   PROBLEM   IN  ANCIENT  TIMES          45 

faculties  of  her  being,  that  she  knows  that  which  is  above 
existence  and  above  truth "  (Porphy.  Sent.  Art.  26).  In 
ecstasy  is  perfect  happiness  ;  but  this  happiness  which  fills  the 
soul  to  overflowing  lasts  but  for  one  instant ;  it  is  part  of  its- 
nature  to  elude  consciousness.  "  Those  reflections  which 
sometimes  accompany  our  actions,  far  from  making  them  more 
perfect  only  enfeeble  them,  and  diminish  their  intensity." 
Such  then  is  the  supreme  Good,  a  gift  of  God  rather  than  the 
fruit  of  virtue ;  it  is  fleeting,  nay  more,  it  is  unfelt. 

General  Character  of  Ancient  Ethics :   The  Notion  of  Duty. 

The  distinctive  character  of  ancient  ethics  was  the  identi- 
fication of  happiness  and  virtue ;  the  end  set  before  man  was 
always  that  Supreme  Good  in  which,  even  here  below,  these  two- 
objects  were  to  be  reconciled,  and  to  become  one.  The  notion 
of  duty,  in  the  stricter  sense  of  the  word,  is  a  modern  one, 
though  it  was  not  altogether  unknown  to  the  ancients ;  but 
Kant  was  the  first  to  emphasise  this  idea,  and  to  found  the 
whole  of  morality  upon  it.  Plato  and  Aristotle  speak  continu- 
ally of  the  Good  (rayaOov),  and  of  virtue ;  but  we  do  not  find 
in  their  works  any  expression  that  corresponds  to  what  we  call 
duty.  The  terms  (TO  o<£eAov,  TO  oVov)  which  come  nearest 
to  expressing  this  conception,  are  rarely  met  with  in  the  exact 
sense  which  we  give  to  the  word  duty. 

At  a  very  early  period,  however,  the  Greeks  had  formed  the 
conception  of  a  moral  law,  which  commands  and  forbids  like 
the  civil  laws,  but  differs  from  these  in  that  it  is  unwritten. 
Socrates  energetically  upholds,  in  opposition  to  the  Sophist 
Hippias,  the  doctrine  of  unwritten  laws  (VO/ULOI  aypa(^oi) ;  and 
this  notion  must  have  been  already  familiar,  since  Sophocles 
put  it  into  the  mouth  of  Antigone  in  the  play.  In  the  Crito, 
Plato  expresses  the  idea  of  absolute  obligation  which  i& 
inherent  to  the  moral  law.  "  Neither  injury  nor  retaliation, 
nor  warding  off  evil  by  evil  is  ever  right."  But  as  a  rule,  Plata 
seeks  the  good  and  the  beautiful  rather  than  the  obligatory, 
and  this  characteristic  is  even  more  striking  in  Aristotle. 

The  Stoics,  like  Plato  and  Aristotle,  aimed  especially  at 
determining  the  nature  of  the  good.  It  was  always  with  the 
notions  of  the  good  and  of  virtue,  that  they  concerned  them- 
selves. Still,  the  distinction  they  made  between  KaOfJKov  and 


46  THE  PBOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 


,  brought  them  very  near  to  the  modern  notion  of 
duty.  The  KaOfjicov,  as  we  have  seen,  expresses  every  appro- 
priate action,  or  in  other  words,  every  action  for  which  one 
can  give  some  plausible,  natural  reason  ;  as,  for  example,  reasons 
of  utility  or  of  sentiment,  such  as  the  care  of  one's  health,  of 
children,  etc.  A  higher  degree  of  wisdom  or  of  virtue,  con- 
stitutes the  KaropOdDja-a  (Officia  perfecta,  or  strictly,  perfectum), 
which  consists  in  doing  the  KaOr/Kovra,  but  in  a  different  spirit, 
namely,  as  things  good  in  themselves  and  in  harmony  with 
the  universal  order.  Of  all  the  expressions  therefore,  in  the 
ethical  terminology  of  the  ancients,  KaropOtojma  is  the  one  that 
corresponds  most  closely  with  our  idea  of  absolute  duty. 
Still,  we  must  remember  that  KaTopOoD/u-a  indicates  the  ideal 
perfection  of  human  wisdom  rather  than  the  notion  of 
obligation  in  itself. 

To  sum  up  :  the  leading  idea  in  ancient  ethics  is  that  of 
the  Supreme  Good,  that  is,  of  the  harmonious  union  of  virtue 
and  happiness  in  the  soul  of  the  wise  man. 


Christian  Morality :  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity. 

All  the  pagan  philosophers  endeavoured  to  find  the  principle 
of  human  morality  in  the  intellect :  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
Epicurus  and  the  Stoics,  even  the  Sceptics  and  the  Alexandrian 
Mystics  all  regarded  the  Supreme  Good  as  the  reward  of 
wisdom.  But  according  to  Christian  teaching,  the  mainspring 
of  the  moral  life  is  not  the  intellect  but  the  heart.  Love  is 
the  supreme  principle  in  practical  life :  love  brings  with  it 
happiness  and  virtue,  and  every  other  good. 

In  the  first  place,  faith  is  now  substituted  for  knowledge. 
Faith  is  an  act  of  the  will  as  well  as  a  conviction,  or  mental 
act.  It  is  an  act  of  self-surrender,  of  loving  and  trustful  sub- 
mission to  the  word  of  God,  and  to  His  will.  The  Christian 
dies  according  to  the  flesh  that  he  may  live  anew  according  to 
the  spirit. 

The  first  effect  of  faith  is  a  spiritual  second  birth  (7raAiyyev€<ria, 
Titus,  III,  5).  The  spirit  dwells  in  regenerated  man.  "The  fruit  of 
the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  kindness,  goodness,  faith- 
fulness "  (Gal.  V,  22)  :  all  the  Christian  virtues.  The  greatest  of  the 
virtues,  the  principle  of  all  the  others,  which  is  both  derived  from  and 
contained  in  faith,  for  it  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  law,  is  charity. 
TrXrjpwfJia  vopov  r/  dya.irr]  (Rom.  XIII,  10)  "  Faith  worketh  by  love  "  (Gal. 
V,  6) :  and  charity  manifests  itself  by  good  works.  Charity  includes  the 
love  of  God  and  the  love  of  our  neighbour  as  a  necessary  consequence  of 
the  love  of  God.  "  Beloved,  let  us  love  one  another  :  for  love  is  of  God  ; 
and  every  one  that  loveth  is  begotten  of  God,  and  knoweth  God.  He 
that  loveth  not  knoweth  not  God  ;  for  God  is  love.  Herein  was  the  love 


48  THE  PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

of  God  manifested  in  us,  that  God  hath  sent  His  only  begotten  Son  into 
the  world,  that  we  might  live  through  Him.  .  .  .  Beloved,  if  God  so 
loved  us,  we  also  ought  to  love  one  another.  ...  If  we  love  one  another, 
God  abideth  in  us,  and  His  love  is  perfected  in  us"  (1  John,  V,  7-12). 

Love  is  to  Christians  what  wisdom  was  to  the  ancients,  the 
principle,  that  is  to  say,  of  all  the  virtues. 

"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not 
charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.  And 
though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all 
knowledge ;  and  though  I  have  all  faith  so  that  I  did  remove  mountains 
and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing.  And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods 
to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have 
not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.  Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is 
kind  ;  charity  envieth  not  .  .  .  beareth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things, 
endureth  all  things"  (1  Cor.  XIII,  1-7). 

We  have  seen  that  the  Stoics  had  formed  a  conception  of 
the  brotherhood  of  man  (Caritas  generis  humani) ;  all  men,  in 
virtue  of  reason  present  in  them,  were  sons  of  God.  But  the 
charity  of  the  Stoics  was  a  rational  sentiment,  the  result  of 
reflection,  and  of  the  consciousness  of  human  dignity. 
Christian  charity  is  deeper,  more  ardent.  It  is  also  de- 
rivative and  indirect ;  for  man  by  his  nature  is  degenerate  and 
corrupt,  and  our  love  for  one  another  is  only  a  consequence  of 
the  love  which  God  bears  to  us ;  it  is  to  please  God,  to  unite 
ourselves  in  intention  with  Him  that  we  should  love  our 
neighbour.  Charity  consists  in  desiring  the  moral  good,  the 
perfection  of  our  neighbour,  and  in  the  alleviation  of  his 
woes.  Towards  the  guilty  it  is  shown  in  forgiveness  and  pity. 

"  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her " 
(John,  VIII,  7).  "Father,  forgive  them ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

In  accordance  with  this  new  morality,  there  arose  a  new 
conception  of  the  Supreme  Good,  of  the  good,  that  is,  in  which 
happiness  and  virtue  are  united.  All  the  ancients  had 
admitted  a  relation  of  identity  between  virtue  and  happiness. 
For  Socrates  and  Plato,  for  Aristotle  and  Zeno,  to  possess 
virtue  is  to  possess  happiness;  while  Epicurus  holds  that  he 
who  is  happy  is  virtuous.  But  the  Christian  conception  is 
quite  different.  Virtue  is  Charity ;  in  other  words,  it  is  the 
love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  man  in  God  and  for  God. 
Happiness  is  the  possession  of  God.  It  is  true  that  to  love 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN  MODERN  TIMES  49 

God  is  to  possess  Him  to  a  certain  extent,  and  to  be  loved  by 
Him,  but  it  is  not  to  possess  Him  fully,  and  love  tends  towards 
a  perfect  union.  Virtue,  though  it  deserves  happiness,  is  only 
the  beginning  of  it,  for  the  Supreme  Good  is  not  of  this  world ; 
it  is  in  another  life  that  our  destiny  will  be  fulfilled.  The 
faith  that  corresponds  to  this  expectation,  faith  as  belief  in  a 
Supreme  Good  that  will  in  the  future  be  real  and  necessary,  takes 
the  form  of  another  virtue,  namely,  hope  (eA-rri?),  which  has  for 
its  object  the  bliss  promised  to  the  elect  but  not  yet  possessed 
by  them.  Faith,  hope,  and  charity  are  the  three  great 
Christian  virtues,  and  they  are  closely  connected,  inseparable 
indeed,  since  they  all  represent  the  same  condition  of  the  soul. 
But  these  virtues  do  not  depend  on  the  human  will,  because 
the  condition  that  makes  them  possible  implies  Divine  grace, 
and  this  we  cannot  give  to  ourselves.  The  Spirit  bloweth 
where  it  listeth.  We  have  already  seen  the  difficulty  which 
the  Christian  theologians  had  in  reconciling  the  doctrines  of 
free  will  and  grace. 

Mediaeval   Ethics :     Conscience ;    Synderesis    and  Conscientia. 

In  Ethics,  as  in  the  other  branches  of  philosophy,  the 
scholastic  teachers  sought  no  new  principles.  They  adhered  to 
the  traditions  of  antiquity  and  of  Christianity.  But  the 
practice  of  a  religion  in  which  the  attention  of  the  mind  is  con- 
stantly turned  to  itself,  develops  in  the  soul  the  sense  of  things 
spiritual.  By  looking  into  and  examining  their  own  minds 
during  long  hours  of  anxious  and  solitary  introspection,  the 
mediaeval  theologians  discovered  conscience,  of  which  they 
were  the  first  to  make  an  analysis.  We  find  already,  in  the 
writings  of  Abelard,  the  part  played  by  conscience  in  human 
morality  clearly  pointed  out. 

Christian  morality  is  merely  the  natural  law  reformed  (reformatio 
legis  naturalis,  quam  secutos  esse  philosophos  constat  (Theol.  Chr.  II). 
Philosophers,  like  the  gospel,  made  morality  lie  in  the  intention  (intentio 
animi) ;  and  they  rightly  said  that  good  men  fly  from  evil  through  love 
of  the  good  and  not  through  fear  of  punishment.  The  Supreme  Good  in 
itself  is  God.  Like  Duns  Scotus  and  Descartes  later,  Abelard  makes  the 
distinction  between  good  and  evil  depend  on  the  arbitrary  will  of  God  : 
unde  et  ea,  quae  per  se  videntur  pessima  et  ideo  culpanda,  cum  jussione  fiunt 
dominica ;  constat  itaque  totam  boni  vel  mali  discretionem  in  divinae  dis- 
pemationis  placito  consistere  (Comm.  in  Ep.*ad  Rom.  II,  869,  Migne's  ed.). 
II.  D 


50  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

The  Supreme  Good  for  man  is  the  love  of  God,  and  the  way 
to  this  good  is  virtue,  which,  by  Abelard,  is  denned  as  good  will 
grown  into  a  fixed  habit  (bona  in  habitum  solidata  voluntas). 
It  is  not  in  the  act  itself,  according  to  him,  but  in  the  intention 
that  moral  good  or  evil  lies.  The  act  itself  is  indifferent; 
even  bad  inclinations,  which  are  the  consequence  of  original  sin, 
leave  us  innocent.  It  is  the  consent  to  evil  that  constitutes 
sin  (peccatum). 

u  Non  enim  quaefiant,  sed  quo  ammo  fiant  pensat  Deus,  nee  in  opere,  sed 
in  intentione  meritum  operantis  vel  laus  consistit "  (Eth.  3). 

"  Opera  omnia  in  se  indifferentia,  nee  nisi  pro  intentione  agentis  vel  bona 
vel  mala  dicenda  sunt "  (Eth.  7).  But  the  intention  depends  on  conscience, 
which  distinguishes  between  good  and  evil.  Man  sins  only  when  he  acts 
contrary  to  his  own  conscience.  But  to  be  virtuous  it  is  not  enough  to 
obey  conscience  ;  the  latter  must  also  be  enlightened,  and  in  agreement 
with  the  commands  of  the  law.  If  conscience  errs,  the  action  is  culpable, 
but  less  so  than  in  a  case  where  the  action  though  conformable  to  the  law 
is  contrary  to  the  injunctions  of  individual  conscience.  Non  est  peccatum 
nisi  contra  conscientiam  (Eth.  13).  Qui  persequebantur  Christum  vel  suos, 
quos  persequendos  credebant,  per  operationem  peccasse  dicimus,  qui  tamen 
graviorem  culpam  peccassent,  si  contra  conscientiam  eis  parcerent  {Eth.  14). 

Such  was  the  truly  elevated  and  novel  doctrine  of  Abelard. 
The  analysis  of  conscience  was  resumed  later  by  Albertus 
Magnus.  He  makes  a  distinction  between  the  faculty  by 
which  we  discern  good  from  evil,  and  what  we  may  call  the 
moral  sentiment,  or  rather  the  moral  disposition. 

Conscience,  properly  so-called,  is  the  law  of  reason  (lex  mentis,  lex 
rationis  et  intellectus),  by  which  we  know  what  to  do,  and  what  to  avoid. 
This  faculty,  inasmuch  as  it  implies  consciousness  of  the  general 
principles  of  practical  life,  is  innate  and  inamissible,  but  as  the  knowledge 
of  particular  duties  it  is  acquired.  Lex  mentis  habitus  naturalis  est 
quantum  ad  principia,  acquisitus  quantum  ad  scita. 

From  Conscientia  he  distinguishes  the  principle  of  moral 
activity,  Synderesis.  What  is  the  origin  and  exact  meaning  of 
this  term  ?  We  find  it  for  the  first  time  in  St.  Jerome,  but  as 
Ueberweg  says,  it  is  possible  that  the  word  used  by  the 
scholastics  was  simply  derived  from  a  copyist's  error,  and  that 
it  should  be  read  arvveifirjo-is.  However  that  may  be,  Synderesis, 
scintilla  conscientiae,  was  distinguished  by  the  scholastics  from 
Conscientia,  being,  as  it  were,  the  original  flame  of  which 
conscience  is  the  actual  radiance. 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  51 

In  the  moral  consciousness  there  is,  then,  firstly  a  mental  act, 
the  distinction  of  good  from  evil;  secondly,  a  power  inherent  in 
man  which  has  not  been  destroyed  by  original  sin  and  which 
inclines  us  to  the  good  and  draws  us  away  from  evil.  This  is 
Synderesis,  a  remnant  of  Adam's  first  nature. 

"/«  singulis  viribus  manet  aliquid  rectum  quod  in  judicando  et 
appetendo  concordat  rectitudini  priinae  in  qua,  creatus  est  homo. — 
Synderesis  est  rectitudo  manens  in  singulis  viribus,  concordant  rectitudini 
primae  (Albert.  Summ.  de  Creaturis,  p.  II,  qu.  69)." 

According  to  St.  Thomas,  Synderesis  is  not  a  potentiality  in  the  Aristo- 
telian sense,  but'  a  natural  possession  of  practical  principles,  just  as 
intellect  is  a  natural  possession  of  speculative  principles,  habitus 
quidam  naturalis  principiorum  operabilium,  sicut  intellectus  habitus  est 
principiorum  speculabilium,  et  non  potentia  aliqua  (Summa  theologiae  I,  q. 
79,  12).  Conscience  is  the  act  by  which  we  apply  our  knowledge  to  our 
actions.  Conscientia  actus  est  quo  scientiam  nostram  ad  ea  quae  agimus 
applicamus  (Ibid.  13). 

Here  again  Synderesis  is  the  principle  of  conscientia.  But  St. 
Thomas  conceives  it  in  a  more  purely  intellectual  way  than  his 
master,  Albertus  Magnus.  The  moral  philosophy  of  Thomas 
Aquinas  is,  in  other  respects,  a  combination  of  Christian  and 
Aristotelian  ethics.  He  distinguishes  the  practical  from  the 
contemplative  life.  He  regards  the  four  philosophical  virtues, 
temperance,  fortitude,  wisdom,  justice,  as  acquired  virtues 
(virtutes  acquisitae),  which  lead  to  natural  happiness,  while  the 
theological  virtues,  faith,  hope,  and  love,  are  divinely  inspired 
(virtutes  infusae)  and  lead  to  supernatural  bliss.  Our  will  is 
not  compelled.  It  is  subject  to  a  moral  necessity  which  does 
not  destroy  its  freedom :  our  choice  depends  on  ourselves. 
Here  we  have  the  notion  of  obligation,  but  St.  Thomas  hastens 
to  add  that  we  can  do  nothing  of  ourselves.  We  need  the 
grace  of  God  and  His  assistance  even  for  the  practice  of  the 
natural  virtues,  and  still  more  if  we  are  to  share  in  perfect 
bliss,  which  is  the  vision  of  God  (Visio  divinae  essentiae). 

Mysticism  sprang  naturally  from  the  depth  and  ardour  of 
religious  feeling  in  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  a  reaction 
against  the  abuse  of  logical  formalism,  and  then,  as  always, 
resolved  itself  into  the  placing  of  feeling  above  reason,  and 
of  immediate  intuition  above  discursive  thought.  "  The  highest 
felicity,"  says  St.  Bernard,  "  is  the  mysterious  flight  of  the  soul 


52 

to  heaven,  the  sweet  return  from  the  domain  of  the  corporeal 
to  the  region  of  spirits,  and  fusion  in  God." 

Hugo  and  Pilchard  of  St.  Victor  followed  the  pseudo- 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  in  his  Neo-Platonism ;  they  dis- 
tinguish contemplatio  (the  immediate  intuition  of  truth)  from 
cogitatio  (sensuous  knowledge)  and  from  meditatio  (discursive 
thought).  As  regards  its  object  they  taught  that  there  are  six 
stages  in  contemplation,  the  lowest,  in  imaginatione  et  secundum 
imaginationem,  consists  in  contemplating  divine  beauty  in  the 
beauty  of  the  sensible  world ;  the  highest,  supra  rationem 
et  praeter  rationem,  in  penetrating  into  mysteries  that  are 
inaccessible  to  reason.  From  the  psychological  point  of  view 
there  are  three  stages  in  contemplatio,  of  which  the  lowest  is  a 
dilatatio  mentis ;  the  second  an  elevation,  sublevatio  mentis : 
the  third  an  alienation,  alienatio  mentis,  an  ecstasy  in  which, 
by  suppressing  all  individual  consciousness,  we  lose  ourselves  in 
God.  Mediaeval  mysticism  finds  its  most  poetic  and  most 
popular  expression  in  the  celebrated  Imitation  of  Christ. 

Descartes  Empirical  Ethics :  the  Soul  Considered  in  its 
Relation  to  the  Body  ;  The  Life  of  the  Soul ;  Knowledge  and  Good- 
will. 

With  Bacon  and  Descartes,  Ethics  as  well  as  philosophy 
became  more  distinct  from  religion  and  more  independent  of 
theology.  There  was  a  return  to  the  traditions  of  antiquity, 
and  an  attempt  was  made  to  solve  the  problem  of  human  destiny 
through  reason  alone.  The  Cartesian  Eationalists  sought  to 
find  the  principles  of  virtue  and  happiness  in  the  knowledge 
of  universal  and  necessary  laws,  while  the  Empiricists  would 
derive  the  whole  of  morality  from  the  observation  of  human 
nature,  from  such  a  fact,  for  example,  as  egoism  or  sympathy.  It 
is  to  Kant  that  the  merit  belongs  of  having  restored  Ethics  by 
fixing  its  principle  elsewhere,  and  founding  it  wholly  upon  the 
idea  of  duty. 

Descartes'  conception  of  Ethics  was  that  of  the  ancients. 
He  endeavours  to  define  the  Supreme  Good  which  comprises 
felicity  and  virtue,  and,  by  proving  that  these  two  terms 
coincide,  to  reconcile  Epicurus  with  Zeno.  (Letter  to  the  Queen 
of  Sweden.}  Descartes  has  two  ethical  systems,  one  of  which 
leads  to  the  other.  The  first  is  empirical  and  has  to  do  with 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN  MODEEN  TIMES  53 

the  life  of  the  soul  in  its  relation  to  the  body,  its  object  being 
to  free  us  from  the  passions  and  thereby  make  possible  the  life 
of  pure  intelligence.  The  second,  which  is  based  on  good-will 
and  knowledge,  aims  at  an  independent  existence  for  the  soul 
and  a  felicity  attainable  only  through  its  own  efforts. 

The  human  body  is  an  automatic  machine  in  which  every- 
thing is  explained  by  extension  and  the  laws  of  motion.  To 
this  machine  a  soul  is  joined,  and  what  was  mechanical  action 
in  the  body  becomes  passion  in  the  soul.  All  the  passions 
(admiration,  love,  hate,  etc.)  are  therefore  merely  an  image  of 
the  body  and  its  internal  movements  reflected  in  the  soul 
(see  Vol.  I,  Chap.  VIII).  Since  self-possession,  or  the  control 
of  passion,  is  the  condition  of  wisdom,  it  is  clear  that  medical 
science  is  most  important  to  the  life  of  the  soul;  for  what 
science  could  be  more  valuable  than  the  one  which,  by 
enabling  us  to  regulate  the  course  of  our  animal  spirits 
and  to  change  their  composition,  would  make  us  masters  of 
our  passions  ?  By  means  of  remedies  properly  proportioned, 
we  should  thus  be  able  to  prearrange  and  fix  accurately  the 
degrees  of  sadness,  of  joy  or  love. 

"Descartes  thought  that  nothing  would  be  more  certain  to  produce 
temporal  felicity  than  a  happy  combination  of  medicine  with  mathematics" 
(Baillet,  III,  5).  And  Descartes  himself  says,  "the  preservation  of  health 
is  the  first  good,  and  the  foundation  of  all  other  goods  ;  for  our  mind 
depends  so  much  on  our  temperament,  and  on  the  state  of  our  bodily 
organs,  that  if  it  were  possible  to  find  any  means  by  which  men  would 
become  wiser  and  more  ingenious  than  they  have  hitherto  been,  it  is  in 
medicine  that  these  means  must  be  sought "  (Disc,  de  la  M&h.  6th  part). 

Thus  the  first  chapter  of  the  Cartesian  Ethics  would  be  a 
system  of  hygiene,  giving  prescriptions  that  would  ensure  to 
man  complete  mastery  over  his  passions. 

Notwithstanding  all  his  efforts,  Descartes  was  unable 
to  formulate  this  therapeutic  of  the  passions.  It  might 
seem,  then,  that  we  must  remain  the  slaves  of  our  bodies. 
But  what  appeared  to  be  our  ruin  is  in  reality  our  salvation, 
for  the  relation  between  body  and  soul  is  a  reciprocal  relation. 
Hence  certain  passions  (correlative  modifications)  must  corre- 
spond in  the  body  to  the  mental  acts,  and  in  this  fact  we 
perceive  a  means  of  making  ourselves  free.  For  if  the  soul  is 
free,  and  if  everything  that  takes  place  in  it  affects  the  body, 


54  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

then,  by  directing  and  regulating  the  soul,  it  is  possible  to 
regulate  the  body.  Medicine  enabled  us  to  attack  the  body 
directly,  to  fight  against  the  passions  by  physical  means ;  but 
through  the  indirect  action  of  the  soul  we  recover  possession  of 
ourselves.  It  is  true  that  the  soul  is  only  capable  of  acting  on 
itself,  but  by  calling  up  such  and  such  a  thought  and 
dwelling  on  it,  it  may,  firstly,  suspend  the  action  which 
would  ensue  from  the  passion  (Pass.  146);  secondly,  it 
may  alter  the  motion  of  the  small  gland  which  is  its 
seat  and  give  a  new  direction  to  the  animal  spirits,  and 
produce  thereby  in  itself  a  different  or  even  a  contrary 
passion  (Pass.  I,  45) ;  thirdly,  the  soul  may  sometimes  do  yet 
more,  for,  without  altering  the  action  of  the  gland,  it  may 
through  habit  associate  with  this  action  thoughts  which 
it  has  had  the  strength  to  dwell  on  while  the  action  lasted. 
"  The  connection  between  our  minds  and  our  bodies  is  of 
such  a  nature  that  when  we  have  once  associated  a  certain 
bodily  action  with  a  certain  thought,  the  dne  never  presents 
itself  without  the  other"  (Pass.  II,  136). 

Through  habit,  therefore,  we  are  able  to  change  the  natural 
order  of  the  passions  and  invert  the  relations  between  the 
physical  and  moral  life.  We  may  act  in  such  a  way  that  to 
the  motions  of  the  pineal  gland,  instead  of  the  passions  which 
would  naturally  correspond  to  them,  there  may  correspond 
quite  opposite  thoughts,  calculated  to  make  us  behave  in  a 
manner  befitting  rational,  independent  beings.  Thus,  since  we 
cannot  act  mechanically  on  the  mechanism  of  the  body,  we 
have  recourse  to  artifice  and  ingenuity  (Pass.  I,  47).  In  this 
way  we  find  a  moral  equivalent  to  medicine,  and  a  moral 
hygiene  is  substituted  for  a  physical ;  the  indirect  action  of 
the  soul  takes  the  place  of  the  direct  action  of  medicine. 

The  soul,  though  joined  to  the  body,  is  distinct  from  it,  and 
has  its  own  separate  life.  "  It  may  enjoy  pleasures  apart 
from  the  body  "  (Pass.  Ill,  212).  By  controlling  the  passions 
it  separates  itself  from  the  body,  and  recovers  its  true 
nature,  which  is  to  be  free  and  to  depend  only  on  itself  and 
on  its  thoughts.  Thus  moral  hygiene  leads  up  to  true 
morality,  which  is  the  science  of  the  Supreme  Good.  What 
then  is  the  Good  which  is  to  give  at  once  happiness  and 
virtue  ? 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES  55 

"  It  consists  in  the  determined  will  to  do  right,  and  in  the  contentment 
which  such  a  will  produces.  Not  only  is  our  free  will  in  itself  our  highest 
possession,  inasmuch  as  it  makes  us  in  a  manner  like  to  God,  and  seems  to 
exempt  us  from  being  subject  to  Him,  the  proper  use  of  it  being  con- 
sequently the  greatest  among  goods ;  but  it  is  also  the  good  that  belongs  to 
us  most  especially  and  is  for  us  the  most  important.  From  this  it  follows 
that  it  is  only  from  our  free  will  that  our  highest  satisfactions  can 
proceed  "  (Letter  to  the  Queen  of  Sweden).  "  It  is  not  necessary  that  our 
reason  should  be  never  mistaken,  it  is  enough  if  our  conscience  tells  us 
that  we  have  always  had  sufficient  firmness  and  virtue  to  execute  all 
those  things  which  we  have  judged  to  be  the  best ;  and  thus  virtue  alone 
suffices  to  give  us  contentment  in  this  life"  (Letter  to  Princess  Elizabeth, 
1st  May,  1645). 

Having,  like  Kant  later  on,  placed  the  end  of  man  in  the 
good  will,  Descartes  then  seems  to  contradict  himself,  and, 
following  Socrates  and  Plato,  to  make  everything  depend  on 
the  intellect. 

"  When  our  virtue  is  not  sufficiently  enlightened  by  the  understanding 
it  may  be  false,  and  in  this  case  the  contentment  which  it  brings  is  not 
real  and  secure.  Man's  highest  happiness  depends  on  the  right  use  of 
reason,  and  consequently  the  study  that  leads  to  its  acquisition  is  the 
most  useful  occupation  he  can  have,  as  it  is  also,  without  doubt,  the  most 
agreeable  and  the  most  delightful "  (Letter  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  May, 
1 645).  How  can  this  be  doubted  when  we  remember  that  "  we  have  only 
to  judge  rightly,  and  to  judge  as  correctly  as  possible,  in  order  to  acquire 
all  the  virtues  and  all  the  advantages  and  goods  attainable  ? "  (Disc,  de  la 
M&hode,  3rd  part).  "  Omnis  peccans  est  ignorans.  If  our  understanding 
never  represented  to  the  will  as  good  the  things  that  are  the  contrary, 
the  will  could  never  be  mistaken  in  its  choice"  (Letter,  April,  1637). 

This  being  the  case,  the  ethical  problem  takes  the  form  of  a 
scientific  problem.  We  must  not  consent  to  pursue  pleasures 
that  we  perceive  confusedly,  we  must  not  accept  a  thing  as 
good  unless  we  see  plainly  that  it  is  so ;  in  a  word,  we  must 
be  on  our  guard  against  confused  ideas,  and  be  guided  only  by 
those  that  are  clear.  The  problem  then  is  how  to  determine 
the  order  of  perfections,  how  to  make  a  science  of  the  different 
kinds  of  good,  and  of  their  relative  value.  But  Descartes 
never  constructed  such  a  science.  He  was  content  to  show 
that  passion  exaggerates  the  worth  of  the  pleasures  it  seeks, 
and  to  lay  down  this  general  rule :  Pleasures  of  the  mind 
which  depend  on  ourselves,  so  far  surpass  those  of  the  body 
that  they  alone  are  sufficient  to  our  happiness.  Science  being 


56  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

incapable  of  entering  into  particulars,  cannot  take  the  place  of 
conscience ;  each  one  of  us  has  independently  to  strive  after 
the  best,  which,  like  the  true,  is  apprehended  on  evidence. 
And  since  life  allows  no  delays  we  must  be  content  to  possess 
a  good  will.  We  have  seen  that  Descartes  leads  us  from  good 
will  to  right  reason,  and  now,  from  right  reason,  we  find 
ourselves  thrown  back  on  good  will. 

But  the  contradiction  is  only  apparent,  for  knowledge  is 
closely  connected  with  freedom,  since  judgment  is  a  voluntary 
act,  and  to  affirm  or  to  deny  is  to  will.  Knowledge  both  pre- 
supposes and  flows  from  freedom.  I  owe  the  truth  to  myself, 
and  am  to  a  certain  extent  responsible  for  my  errors.  The 
Supreme  Good  is  good  will,  which  alone  depends  on  ourselves ; 
but  good  will  is  nothing  else  than  the  will  "  to  make  the  best 
possible  use  of  our  minds  in  order  to  know  what  to  do  and 
what  to  avoid  on  every  occasion  in  life "  (Letter  to  the 
Princess  Elizabeth,  1st  May,  1645).  Good  will  is  our  most 
precious  possession ;  it  justifies  our  actions  abundantly  to 
ourselves  and  before  God,  and  it  insures  to  us  inward  content- 
ment ;  but  only  through  the  intellect  is  true  wisdom  attained. 
Wisdom  implies  knowledge.  Wisdom  should  be  our  ideal,  which 
it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  get  as  near  to  as  possible ;  and 
the  inward  satisfaction  which  comes  from  this  striving  after 
the  best  constitutes  our  happiness. 

This  would  appear  to  be  a  solution  of  the  ethical  problem. 
But  may  not  the  vicissitudes  of  life  throw  the  soul  back  again 
into  the  bondage  of  pain  ?  Man  lives  in  a  world  in  which 
events  occur  over  which  he  has  no  control ;  how  can  it  be 
said  that  he  depends  on  himself  alone  ?  Descartes  tries  to 
eliminate  such  unforeseen  events  from  the  problem  of  life,  by 
considering  man  in  his  relation  to  the  world  and  to  God. 
Let  us  remember,  he  says,  that  everything  in  the  universe 
happens  mechanically,  according  to  inflexible  laws,  and  we  shall 
endeavour  to  change  the  nature  of  our  desires  rather  than  the 
order  of  the  world.  Fortune  is  "  merely  a  chimera,  born  of  an 
error  in  our  understanding"  (Pass.  II,  145).  If  we  were  once 
convinced  that  when  we  have  done  all  that  lies  in  our  power  the 
advantages  we  do  not  possess  are  all  equally  beyond  our  reach, 
"  we  should  no  more  desire  health,  when  ill,  or  freedom,  when 
in  prison,  than  we  now  do  bodies  as  incorruptible  as  diamonds, 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES  57 

or  wings  with  which  to  fly  like  birds  "  (Disc,  de  la  Mtth.  3rd 
part).  The  consciousness  of  a  universal  necessity  delivers  us 
from  all  superfluous  regrets  or  desires. 

But  as  evil  exists  none  the  less  for  being  necessary,  this 
submission  to  the  laws  of  the  universe  resembles  a  defeat. 
There  would  appear  to  be  something  which  evades  the  good  and 
the  intelligible.  Yes,  if  we  forget  that  everything  depends  on 
God,  that  everything  is  arranged  by  His  Providence.  We 
cannot  penetrate  into  the  ways  of  God,  but  we  know  that 
they  express  the  highest  perfection ;  and  when  we  have  acted 
as  we  thought  best,  this  knowledge  should  make  us  feel  con- 
tent, whatever  our  fate  may  be. 

"The  true  object  of  love  being  perfection,  when  we  lift  up  our  minds  to 
consider  God  as  He  is,  we  feel  ourselves  naturally  so  strongly  disposed  to 
love  Him  that  we  derive  joy  even  from  our  afflictions,  remembering  that, 
in  all  that  happens  to  us  His  will  is  fulfilled"  (Letter  to  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  13th  June,  1645).  "  Thus  it  is  that  man,  uniting  his  will  to  that 
of  God,  loves  Him  in  so  perfect  a  manner  as  to  desire  nothing  more  in 
this  world  but  that  the  will  of  God  be  done.  Consequently,  he  no  longer 
fears  either  death,  or  pain,  or  disgrace,  knowing  that  nothing  can  befall 
him  that  has  not  been  appointed  by  God,  and  he  has  so  great  a  love  for 
the  divine  ordinance,  he  deems  it  so  just  and  so  necessary,  he  knows 
himself  to  be  so  dependent  on  it,  that  even  when  he  is  expecting  death  or 
some  other  evil,  if  the  impossible  were  to  happen,  and  he  found  he  had 
the  power  to  alter  this  decree,  he  would  not  have  the  desire  to  do  so" 
(Letter  to  M.  Chanuf). 

Having  thus  fused  our  will  with  that  of  God,  we  participate 
in  His  omnipotence,  and  nothing  occurs  without  our  willing 
it.  Happiness  is  the  reward  of  virtue;  and  man's  supreme 
good  depends  on  man  himself. 

"  It  is  certain  that  if  a  man  who  is  well  born,  in  good  health,  and  in 
want  of  nothing,  at  the  same  time  is  as  wise  and  virtuous  as  another  who 
is  poor,  unhealthy,  and  deformed,  he  may  enjoy  a  more  complete  content- 
ment than  the  poor  man.  Nevertheless,  as  a  small  vessel  may  be  as  full 
as  a  large  one,  though  containing  less  liquid,  so  also,  taking  the  content- 
ment of  each  individual  to  lie  in  the  fulness  and  satisfaction  of  his  desires, 
I  have  no  doubt  that,  when  these  are  regulated  according  to  reason,  the 
poorest  man  and  the  least  favoured  by  fortune  and  nature  may  be  as 
entirely  content  and  satisfied  as  other  men"  (Letter  to  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  1st  May,  1645).  "By  the  internal  felicity  which  good  will 
of  itself  produces,  we  may  hinder  all  the  evils  that  come  from  without 


58  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

however  great,  from  going  any  deeper  into  our  souls  than  does  the 
sadness  excited  by  actors  when  they  represent  some  tragic  event" 
(Letter  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  March,  1646). 

Life's  external  order  may  be  disturbed  by  accidents,  but  not 
the  inward  harmony  of  the  soul ;  for  accidents  are  necessary,  and 
since  they  are  part  of  God's  purpose,  we  should  not  only  accept 
but  desire  them.  Hence  nothing  can  happen  that  is  contrary 
to  our  desire.  To  make  our  will  and  our  understanding  one 
with  the  will  and  understanding  of  God — in  this  lies  the  whole 
of  morality. 

In  this  way,  then,  our  soul,  which  was  at  first  threatened  with 
bondage,  becomes  free;  the  passions  which  it  experiences  are  no 
longer  the  expression  of  the  affections  of  the  body ;  its  love  being 
no  longer  the  effect  of  the  course  of  the  animal  spirits,  is  born 
of  an  act  of  judgment  which  disposes  the  soul  to  become  attached 
in  will  to  the  things  that  it  deems  good  (Pass.  II,  79).  Its  joys, 
which  are  purely  intellectual,  spring  from  its  own  activity 
alone.  Not  only  is  the  soul  no  longer  the  expression  of  the 
body,  but  their  relations  are  reversed.  It  is  now  the  body  that 
expresses  the  soul  by  its  movements,  and  becomes  its  slave. 
There  is  a  passion  that  corresponds  to  virtue — true  nobility, 
which  causes  a  man  to  form  as  high  an  opinion  of  himself 
as  he  legitimately  can.  Nobility  is  the  bodily  expression  of 
virtue.  It  consists  of  right  notions  and  principles  of  morality, 
enforced  by  the  action  of  the  animal  spirits.  Even  that  highest, 
most  spiritual  kind  of  love,  the  love  of  God,  may  become 
a  passion,  and  affect  the  course  of  the  spirits.  Thus  the  soul 
is  its  own  mistress  because  its  thoughts  depend  on  itself 
alone,  and  it  is  mistress  of  the  body  because  the  body  is 
the  expression  of  the  soul,  and  only  gives  back  to  it,  under 
the  form  of  passions,  its  own  acts  and  thoughts.  Finally,  the 
soul  is  mistress  of  the  world  because  it  is  united  to  God  by 
love,  and  participates,  therefore,  in  His  will  and  sovereign 
power. 

Malebranche :  Ratios  of  Perfection ;  Love  of  the  Universal 
Order. 

A  science  of  goods  and  of  their  relative  value  remained  a 
desideratum  in  the  ethical  system  of  Descartes,  who  contented 
himself  with  saying  that  the  Good,  as  well  as  the  True,  is  dis- 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES  59 

covered  by  the  light  of  evidence.  Malebranche  in  his  Ethics 
develops  this  idea,  which  was  merely  suggested  by  Descartes. 
There  are  two  kinds  of  relation  between  things :  a  relation  of 
magnitude  and  a  relation  of  perfection.  The  former  has  to  do 
with  truth,  the  latter  with  order ;  the  former  bears  on  pure 
science,  the  latter  on  Ethics. 

If  the  human  intellect,  fashioned  diversely  by  custom  and 
education,  and  different  at  different  periods,  is  able  to  discover  this 
immutable  order,  it  is  because  there  is  in  it  a  divine  impersonal 
element,  namely,  reason,  the  Eternal  "Word  by  which  all  minds 
are  united.  Reason  is  the  Divine  voice  speaking  in  us,  and  he 
who  listens  not  to  it  falls  into  error  and  disorder.  "  He  who 
values  his  horse  more  than  his  coachman,  and  he  who  thinks 
that  a  stone  has  in  itself  a  greater  worth  than  a  fly  or  the 
smallest  organism,  does  not  perceive  what  perhaps  he  imagines 
himself  to  perceive;  for  it  is  not  universal  reason,  but  individual 
reason,  that  leads  him  to  judge  things  so"  {Morale,  I,  i,  13). 

Again,  it  is  because  universal  reason  is  not  followed  that 
morality  differs  in  different  countries  and  at  different  periods. 

"  Thus  with  the  Germans  it  is  virtuous  to  be  able  to  drink.  One  can 
have  no  intercourse  with  them  if  one  does  not  get  drunk.  It  is  not 
reason  but  wine  that  binds  society  together,  and  makes  settlements  and 
contracts  "  (Morale,  I,  ii,  7). 

Love  of  the  order  in  things  is  the  only  virtue.  Actions 
that  are  merely  in  conformity  with  this  order,  namely,  duties 
(the  KaQ-fiKoyTo.  of  the  Stoics),  are  to  be  distinguished  from 
those  which  are  inspired  by  the  love  of  this  order,  namely, 
virtues. 

"  We  must  not,  owing  to  the  agreement  between  the  terms,  confuse 
virtues  with  duties.  Men  are  deceived  by  this.  Some  there  are  who 
imagine  that  they  are  following  virtue  when  they  only  follow  the  natural 
inclination  which  they  have  to  fulfil  certain  duties  ;  and  as  they  are  by  no 
means  led  by  reason,  they  are  in  fact  excessively  vicious  the  while  they 
imagine  themselves  heroes  of  virtue  "  (Morale,  I,  ii,  6).  "  He  who  gives 
his  fortune  to  the  poor,  either  through  vanity  or  natural  compassion,  is 
not  liberal,  because  he  is  not  led  by  reason ;  and  his  action  is  not  inspired 
by  love  of  the  order  of  things,  but  is  the  result  of  pride  or  of  a  merely 
natural  tendency  "  (Ibid.  §  i). 

Virtue,  therefore,  is  more  than  submission  pure  and  simple 
to  the  order  of  things.  It  is  submission  through  love 


60  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

of  this  order.  It  is,  moreover,  not  an  actual  and  momentary 
obedience,  but  one  that  is  continuous  and  has  grown  into  a 
habit.  "  Virtue  is  a  habitual,  free,  and  dominating  love  of  the 
immutable  order  "  {Ibid.  I,  iii,  20). 

To  love  this  order  is  to  love  beings  and  things  in  proportion 
to  their  perfection,  and  is  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  love 
God,  Who  is  absolute  perfection,  above  all  things;  and, 
secondly,  to  love  all  other  things  only  according  to  their  rela- 
tion to  God ;  or,  better  still,  to  love  only  God  in  them,  that  is 
to  say,  the  perfection  in  them  which  makes  them  worthy  of 
love.  The  love  of  order  is  therefore  union  with  God,  by  con- 
formity of  mind  and  will. 

As  God  necessarily  loves  order  and  all  things  according  to 
this  order,  He  loves  Himself  above  everything,  and  next  to 
Himself  His  creatures,  in  so  far  as  He  finds  Himself  in  them, 
that  is  to  say,  according  to  the  degree  of  being  and  perfection 
which  they  possess.  There  are  two  kinds  of  love,  the  one 
kindness  or  esteem,  the  other  the  love  of  union.  The  first 
consists  in  loving  things  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  lovable ;  the 
latter  consists  in  giving  oneself  wholly,  without  reserve,  to  the 
beloved  object,  or,  in  a  word,  in  uniting  oneself  with  it  {Ibid.  I, 
iii,  8).  God  alone  deserves  to  be  loved  in  this  way,  because 
He  is  perfection.  He  is  the  Good  in  itself,  and  He  alone  also 
is  the  efficient  cause  of  all  the  actions  of  His  creatures.  It  is 
therefore  in  Him  only  that  we  must  love  His  creatures.  It  is 
according  to  His  will  and  His  law  that  we  must  measure  out 
to  them  the  love  which  is  benevolence. 

This  is  the  principle  that  governs  practical  morality.  The 
law  of  God  and  of  all  things  in  Him  is  the  sovereign  rule  of 
conduct,  as  vision  in  God  is  the  law  of  knowledge.  Man 
should  only  love  in  himself  that  which  makes  him  worthy  of 
love  in  the  eyes  of  God.  Eeason  is  God  present  in  us.  We 
are  the  temples  in  which  His  wisdom  dwells,  and  in  which  He 
desires  to  be  adored.  We  should  fight  against  everything  in 
us  that  is  an  obstacle  to  reason — against  the  senses,  the 
imagination,  the  passions  (Ibid.  II,  xi,  xii,  xiii).  The 
cultivation  of  reason  is  homage  rendered  to  God.  Attention 
is  a  natural  prayer,  by  means  of  which  we  receive  illumination 
from  reason.  "  Strength  and  freedom  of  mind,  which  consist 
in  being  disposed  to  seek  and  follow  truth,  and  to  accept  it 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES  61 

solely   on  evidence,  are  virtues   and   cardinal  virtues "  (Ibid. 
I,  vi,  5). 

Social  morality  is  inspired  by  the  same  spirit  as  private 
morality.  Our  love  for  others  must  be  regulated  by  their 
relation  to  God.  The  sovereign  is  the  man  among  all  others 
who  has  the  highest  place  in  our  esteem,  because  he  is  nothing 
less  than  the  representative  of  God  on  earth.  In  his  presence, 
not  only  our  bodies  but  our  minds  should  be  bowed  down  in 
reverence.  We  must  humble  ourselves  and  respect  the 
greatness  and  majesty  of  God  in  the  power  of  the  prince 
(Ibid.  II,  ix,  2).  But  the  lowest  among  men  is  also  worthy 
of  our  goodwill  and  our  esteem. 

"  "We  must  not  only  respect  and  show  respect  to  the  lowest  among  men, 
and  to  the  poor,  but  also  to  sinners  and  to  those  who  commit  the  worst 
crimes.  Their  lives  are  abominable,  their  conduct  is  contemptible,  but 
their  persons  are  still  deserving  of  respect "  (Ibid.  II,  vii,  4). 

And  this  is  because  they  have  never  ceased  to  be  the  temples 
of  Jesus  Christ  and  to  form  with  us  part  of  an  eternal  society 
in  God.  Even  the  child  should  be  to  his  parents  an  object  of 
respect,  no  less  than  of  affection.  He  should  not  be  governed 
by  force,  but  his  feeble  reason  should  be  led  by  gentle 
persuasion. 

"Let  no  father  imagine,  that  as  a  father,  he  has  an  absolute  and 
independent  authority  over  his  son.  He  only  is  a  father  through  the 
efficacy  of  God's  power,  and  he  should  only  govern  according  to  His  law  " 
(Ibid.  II,  x,  18). 

Thus  all  duties  have  their  principle  in  the  love  of  God> 
which  is  the  only  virtue,  though  it  takes  various  forms 
corresponding  exactly  with  our  various  duties. 

Spinoza ;  Determinism;  There  is  no  Absolute  Good  or  Evil  ; 
The  Good  for  Man ;  Theory  of  Goods ;  Bondage  and  Freedom. 
Spinoza  a  Utilitarian  and  Mystic. 

The  consciousness  of  a  universal  necessity  which  is  only  one 
element,  or  moment,  in  the  Ethics  of  Descartes,  is  the  first 
principle  and  the  end  of  morality  with  Spinoza,  who  makes 
no  distinction  between  this  consciousness  and  the  love  of  God. 
In  this  as  in  other  respects  Spinoza's  doctrine  is  Cartesianism 
made  logical,  simplified,  and  impoverished.  It  is  remarkable 


62  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

that  the  principal  work  of  Spinoza  should  be  a  theory  of 
Ethics,  seeing  that  he  denies  both  freedom  and  the  existence 
of  good  and  evil.  Human  actions,  according  to  him,  are 
governed  by  an  inflexible  mechanism.  The  belief  in  free  will 
is  an  illusion  and  a  folly.  Indignation  against  the  wicked  is 
childishness.  A  madman  is  no  more  bound  to  live  according 
to  the  dictates  of  reason  than  the  cat  is  bound  to  live  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  a  lion's  nature  (Theol.  Pol.  Ch.  XVI). 

But  if  we  are  necessarily  subject  to  the  laws  of  our  nature, 
may  we  not  lay  the  blame  of  our  sins  and  misfortunes  on 
God  ?  No. 

"Men  are  in  God's  power  as  clay  is  in  the  hands  of  the  potter,  who  from 
the  same  lump  makes  vessels  some  to  honour  some  to  dishonour  "  (Rom. 
IX,  21).  "  No  one  can  bring  a  complaint  against  God  for  having  given 
him  a  weak  nature  or  infirm  spirit.  A  circle  might  as  well  complain 
to  God  of  not  being  endowed  with  the  properties  of  a  sphere,  or  a  child 
who  is  tortured,  say,  with  stone,  for  not  being  given  a  healthy  body,  as 
a  man  of  feeble  spirit  because  God  has  denied  to  him  fortitude  and  the 
true  knowledge  and  love  of  the  Deity,  or  because  he  is  endowed  with 
so  weak  a  nature  that  he  cannot  check  or  moderate  his  desires  "  (Letters  to 
Oldenburg,  23  and  25). 

To  desire  things  to  be  otherwise  than  they  are,  to  chafe 
against  nature,  is  to  fail  to  recognize  that  all  that  is  is  neces- 
sary, and  is  of  necessity  that  which  it  is. 

On  the  other  hand,  that  which  is  necessary  cannot  fail  to  be 
good,  and,  from  the  ethical  point  of  view,  necessity  should  be 
called  God,  Providence,  or  Wisdom.  Thus  every  event  is 
justified  by  the  very  fact  of  its  occurrence  which  is  in  imme- 
diate connection  with  the  supreme  necessity.  The  distinction 
between  good  and  evil  has  no  absolute  value :  "  For  we  all 
admire  in  animals  qualities  which  we  regard  with  dislike  and 
aversion  in  men,  such  as  the  pugnacity  of  bees,  the  jealousy  of 
doves "  (Letter  to  BlyenbergJi).  The  moral  sanction  is  not 
founded  on  responsibility,  but  is  a  consequence  of  the  necessary, 
fixed  order  of  things. 

"  He  who  goes  mad  from  the  bite  of  a  dog  is  assuredly  excusable,  yet 
he  is  rightly  suffocated.  Lastly,  he  who  cannot  govern  his  desires  and 
keep  them  in  check  from  fear  of  the  laws,  though  his  weakness  may 
be  excusable,  cannot,  nevertheless,  enjoy  either  peace  of  soul  or  the 
knowledge  and  love  of  God,  but  necessarily  perishes"  (Letter  to 
Oldenburg,  25). 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES  63 

In  one  sense,  therefore,  there  is  for  Spinoza  neither  good  nor 
evil ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  because  the  same  explanation 
serves  for  all  things,  all  things  are  to  be  regarded  as  identical 
or  equal.  Tout  expliquer  n'est  pas  tout  confondre.  There 
are  things  that  may  be  called  good  or  useful,  bad  or  harmful, 
according  as  they  increase  or  diminish  our  perfection,  that  is  to 
say,  according  as  they  bring  us  nearer  to  God  or  lead  us 
further  away  from  Him.  Thus,  in  so  far  as  we  perceive  that  a 
thing  affects  us  with  pleasure  or  sorrow  we  call  it  good  or  evil 
(Ethics  IV,  Prop.  viii).  Pantheism,  which  justifies  the  existence 
of  all  things,  is  careful  not  to  despise  the  lower  kinds 
of  good. 

"Therefore  to  make  use  of  what  comes  in  our  way  and  to  enjoy  it  as 
much  as  possible  (not  to  the  point  of  satiety,  for  that  would  not  be  enjoy- 
ment) is  the  part  of  a  wise  man.  I  say  it  is  the  part  of  a  wise  man  to 
refresh  and  recreate  himself  with  moderate  and  pleasant  food  and  drink, 
and  also  with  perfumes,  with  the  soft  beauty  of  growing  plants,  with 
dress  and  with  music,  with  many  sports,  with  theatres  and  the  like,  such 
as  every  man  may  make  use  of  without  injury  to  his  neighbour"  (Ibid. 
Prop.  XIV,  note). 

Joy  is  good,  the  gloomy  meditations  of  the  mystic  are 
foolishness.  "  A  free  man  thinks  of  nothing  less  than  of 
death  ;  and  his  wisdom  is  a  meditation  not  of  death  but  of 
life"  (Ibid.  Prop.  XLVII).  While  he  approves  all  kinds  of 
pleasure,  Spinoza  does  not  omit  to  determine  the  value  of  each 
one  in  particular,  and  to  give  it  a  place  according  to  its  utility 
or,  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  according  to  its  degree  of 
being  or  perfection.  "  There  is  no  small  difference  between  the 
joy  which  actuates,  say,  a  drunkard,  and  the  joy  possessed  by  a 
philosopher"  (Hid.  Ill,  Prop.  LVII,  note).  In  this  way  Spinoza 
establishes  a  dialectic,  or  a  hierarchy  of  goods. 

The  good  is  freedom,  evil  is  bondage,  and  the  degrees  of 
perfection  are  indicated  by  the  degrees  of  freedom.  Bondage 
means  subjection  to  the  passions,  or  life  according  to  appetite. 
Appetite,  being  connected  with  the  imagination  and  the  senses, 
has  for  its  object  the  goods  that  are  present,  trivial,  and 
fleeting.  The  man  who  yields  to  these  is  swayed  by  inadequate 
and  confused  ideas.  Freedom,  on  the  other  hand,  consists  in 
living  under  the  dominion  of  reason,  which  conceives  things 
under  the  form  of  eternity  (sub  specie  aeternitatis)  and  is  attracted 


64       .  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

by  future  goods  as  well  as  by  those  which  are  present  and 
immediate.  Eeason  makes  known  to  each  one  what  is  in  con- 
formity to  his  nature  and  useful  to  him.  Lastly,  reason  has 
for  its  object  an  imperishable  good,  namely,  knowledge,  and  more 
especially  knowledge  of  the  eternal  truths.  But  Spinoza  can 
only  show  us  the  means  by  which  man  becomes  free,  that  is, 
knowledge  ;  we  cannot  make  ourselves  free,  we  only  know  how 
freedom  comes  to  us. 

"  An  emotion  which  is  a  passion  ceases  to  be  a  passion  as  soon  as  we 
form  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  thereof"  (Ethics,  V,  Prop.  III).  "  An  emotion, 
therefore,  becomes  more  under  our  control,  and  the  mind  is  less  passive  in 
respect  to  it,  in  proportion  as  it  is  more  known  to  us"  (Ibid.  Coroll).  "But 
what  is  it  to  know  things  if  not  to  understand  their  necessity  ?  The  mind 
has  greater  power  over  the  emotions  and  is  less  subject  thereto  in  so  far 
as  it  understands  all  things  as  necessary  "  (Ibid.  Prop.  VI). 

In  governing  our  passions  we  make  our  desires  as  well  as 
our  thoughts  conform  to  the  order  of  the  universe.  Freedom 
is  the  identification  of  ourselves  with  the  universal  necessity, 
for  we  become  free  through  knowledge,  and  knowledge  is 
participation  in  Being,  and  as  there  is  only  one  Being,  with 
the  necessary  Being. 

With  Spinoza,  as  with  Parmenides  and  Plato,  thought  is 
identical  with  its  object;  so  that,  in  so  far  as  it  possesses  know- 
ledge of  eternal  truth,  the  mind  is  itself  eternal,  and  in  so  far 
as  it  extends  this  knowledge  it  also  increases  its  share  of 
immortality.  In  like  manner,  to  know  God  is  to  participate 
in  His  essence ;  and  if  man,  having  reached  the  term  of  his 
moral  development,  is  truly  free,  it  is  because,  being  then 
united  to  God  by  intellectual  intuition,  he  is  himself  God,  and 
forms  part  of  the  supreme  necessity,  which  is  called  freedom 
because  it  develops  only  according  to  the  law  of  its  own  nature. 
Freedom  for  man  consists,  therefore,  in  being  one  with  God, 
with  the  Being,  that  is,  who,  considered  as  He  is  in  Himself,  is 
to  be  called  necessary,  but  considered  in  His  relation  to  other 
things,  which  are  merely  the  modes  of  His  activity,  is  to  be 
called  free. 

Spinoza  liked  to  join  together  contrary  terms,  such  as 
freedom  and  necessity.  Following  his  example,  one  may  say  of 
him  that  he  was  at  the  same  time,  and  without  inconsistency, 
both  a  utilitarian  and  a  mystic;  for  he  gives  as  the  principle  of 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN  MODERN  TIMES  65 

his  Ethics  now  the  tendency  of  a  being  to  persevere  and  to  perfect 
himself  in  his  being — the  love  of  self;  now  the  intellectual  love 
of  God.  The  reason  of  this  is  that  to  him  these  two  kinds  of 
love  are  only  one.  It  is  the  nature  of  man  to  know,  and  the 
object  of  knowledge  is  Being  in  all  its  degrees  and  in  all  its 
forms,  but  principally  in  its  highest  form,  which  is  the  Eternal 
and  the  Divine.  "  Hence  the  mind's  greatest  good  is  the  know- 
ledge of  God,  and  the  mind's  highest  virtue  is  to  know  God  " 
IV,  Prop.  XXVIII).  But  to  know  God  is  to  love  Him,  for  love 
is  nothing  else  than  joy  accompanied  by  the  idea  of  its  object. 
Again,  to  love  God  is  to  love  one's  self,  and  to  love  one's  self 
the  more  according  as  one  is  in  a  manner  more  fully  one's  self ; 
since  he  who  has  reached  the  term  of  knowledge  has .  also 
reached  the  highest  development  of  his  own  nature.  Thus  the 
love  of  self  leads  to  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  o£-_ 
only  a  higher  form  of  self-love. 

But  having  described  the  Ethical  theory  of  Spinoza  as  a  higher 
kind  of  Utilitarianism,  we  must  now,  with  apparent  self-contra- 
diction, show  that  from  another  point  of  view  his  system  is 
characterized  by  a  noble  disinterestedness.  For  he  repudiates 
as  servile  the  virtue  that  is  based  merely  on  the  fear  of  hell  or 
on  the  hope  of  another  life.  He  cannot  adequately  express  his 
contempt  for  the  common  opinion  according  to  which  "  piety, 
religion,  and  generally  all  things  attributable  to  firmness  of  mind 
are  burdens  which  after  death  men  hope  to  lay  aside"  (V, 
Prop.  XLI,  note).  What  an  insult  to  morality  is  this  shameful 
fear  of  the  tortures  of  Hell,  which  makes  so  many  unfortunate 
men  bear  the  "  crushing  burden  of  piety  ! "  and  how  much 
nobler  and  more  pure,  according  to  Spinoza,  is  the  notion  which 
he  would  have  us  form  of  virtue  !  "  Even  if  we  did  not  know 
that  our  mind  is  eternal,  we  should  still  consider  as  of  primary 
importance  piety  and  religion,  and  generally  all  things  which 
we  have  shown  to  be  attributable  to  courage  and  high- 
mindedness  "  (V,  XLI).  Are  we  to  understand  by  this  that, 
like  Kant,  Spinoza  regards  virtue  and  happiness  as  antagonistic, 
so  that  the  one  requires  the  sacrifice  of  the  other  ?  On  the 
contrary,  he  holds  that  the  all-wise  necessity  by  which  the 
world  is  governed  has  inseparably  linked  happiness  with 
the  life  that  is  rational  and  free,  and  he  finds  man's  happiness 
in  perfection  and  virtue  alone, 
ir.  E 


66  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Blessedness  is  not  the  reward  of  virtue,  but  virtue  itself  ;  neither  do 
we  rejoice  therein  because  we  control  our  lusts,  but  contrariwise,  it  is 
because  we  rejoice  therein  that  we  are  able  to  control  our  lusts  "  (V,  XLII). 

To  sum  up:  the  happy  life, the  free,  rational,  or  divine  life — for 
all  these  terms  correspond  to  the  different  points  of  view  from 
which  the  one  and  the  same  thing  may  be  considered — is  the 
development  of  the  human  mind  according  to  its  special  nature, 
its  progress  towards  its  end,  namely,  the  knowledge  and  the  love 
of  God. 

We  have  considered  the  human  mind  in  its  individual 
development  only  ;  but  it  has  merely  to  obey  the  laws  of  its  own 
nature  in  order  to  be  in  harmony  with  other  minds.  Where 
morality  prevails  the  rules  of  social  life  are  observed.  What 
divides  men  is  their  appetites,  because  these  are  directed 
towards  objects  which  cannot  be  shared,  as  for  example  wealth. 
In  setting  the  life  of  reason  above  the  life  of  appetite,  morality, 
although  occupied  solely  with  the  perfection  of  the  individual, 
serves  by  way  of  reaction  the  social  interest.  Eeason  unites 
men :  it  is  passion  that  divides  them,  for  the  object  of  reason 
is  God,  who  gives  Himself  to  all  without  reserve,  and  com- 
municates Himself  without  losing  Himself.  Nay,  it  is  in  the 
nature  of  this  Supreme  Good,  which  is  called  the  knowledge 
and  the  love  of  God,  to  grow,  in  a  manner,  by  the  common 
possession  of  it. 

"This  love  towards  God  cannot  be  stained  by  the  emotion  of  envy  or 
jealousy  :  contrariwise  it  is  the  more  fostered  as  we  conceive  a  greater 
number  of  men  to  be  joined  to  God  by  the  same  bond  of  love  "  (Part  V, 
Prop.  XX). 

Thus  the  love  of  God  is  the  binding  force  in  social  life,  and 
therefore  the  principle  on  which  the  whole  of  morality  depends 

Ethics  of  Leibnitz :  The  Sovereign  Good ;  The  Moral  Instinct 
and  Reason  ;  Nature  and  Grace  ;  Theory  of  Love. 

Leibnitz,  like  Spinoza  and  Malebranche,  regards  perfection 
as  the  end  of  morality,  and  intelligence  as  the  principle  of  per- 
fection. According  to  him,  the  fact  that  our  actions  are 
psychologically  determined  does  not  deprive  them  of  their 
moral  character,  any  more  than  the  fact  that  our  judgments 
are  psychologically  determined  prevents  them  from  being  true 
or  false.  Just  as  we  need  logic  for  the  direction  of  our  under- 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  67 

standing,  so  also  do  we  need  an  ethical  system  for  the  guidance 
of  our  will.  The  natural  good  of  a  being  consists  .in  its 
perfection. 

"  All  that  elevates  the  soul  I  call  p&'fection.  Perfection  consists  in  the 
force  of  action  ;  and  as  there  is  in  every  being  a  certain  force,  the  greater 
the  force  the  higher  and  more  free  is  its  essence.  Moreover,  the  greater 
a  force  is  the  more  manifest  is  plurality  in  unity  in  it.  Now  the  one  in 
the  many  is  nothing  else  than  harmony,  and  from  harmony  beauty  springs, 
and  beauty  engenders  love  "  ( Ueber  die  Gliickseligkeit,  Erdmann's  Edn. 
p.  672). 

The  perfection  of  a  rational  being  is  measured  by  the  sum 
of  his  distinct  perceptions  (Letter  to  Wolff).  Moral  good  is 
therefore  the  striving  after  knowledge,  the  cultivation  of  reason, 
the  continuous  progress  from  confused  to  distinct  perceptions. 
Pleasure  for  a  living  being  is  nothing  else  than  its  consciousness  , 
of  perfection,  and  perfection  and  happiness  are  identical  terms. 
Moral  life  is  therefore  the  continuous  passage  from  a  lesser  to 
a  greater  perfection,  and  hence  the  progressive  conquest  of 
happiness.  There  is  thus  a  foundation  of  good  in  the  nature 
of  the  object  itself,  and  it  is  the  natural  good  which  becomes 
moral  good  when  will  is  added.  JSonum  naturale  quum  est 
voluntarium  est  bonum  morale  (Ibid.). 

Nature  of  itself  leads  man  to  his  end,  that  is,  to  happiness, 
for  nature  inclines  us  to  pursue  joy  and  avoid  sorrow  (New 
Essays,  I,  II,  1).  Now  joy  is  a  sign  of  our  free  development 
and  advancement  towards  perfection.  Inclination  to  pleasure 
implies  therefore  a  desire  for  perfection  vaguely  and  confusedly 
felt,  but  real  and  effectual ;  and  nature,  whence  this  desire 
comes  to  us,  is  found  to  be  virtually  moral.  So  there  exists 
further  a  general  social  instinct,  an  affection  between  the  male 
and  female,  between  father  and  children,  "which  are  part  of 
this  natural  law,  or  this  image  of  law,  which,  according  to  the 
Roman  juris  consulti,  nature  has  taught  the  animals  "  (Ibid.  9). 
Does  morality  consist,  then,  in  following  Nature  ?  Rousseau's  Nj 
doctrine  was  criticised  in  advance  by  Leibnitz.  Instinct,  being 
entirely  concerned  with  the  present,  is  not  a  safe  guide. 

"  For  felicity  is  only  a  lasting  joy  ;  our  inclination,  however,  does 
not  tend  to  felicity  proper,  but  to  joy,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  present.  It  is 
reason  which  prompts  to  future  and  enduring  welfare "  (Ibid.  3). 
Moreover,  instinct  is  blind  :  "  the  appetitions,  called  in  the  schools  motits 


68  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

primo  primi,  are  like  the  natural  tendency  of  the  stone,  which  goes  by  the 
most  direct,  but  not  always  the  best  path  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth ; 
for  it  is  not  able  to  see  beforehand  that  it  will  meet  rocks,  upon  which 
it  will  break  in  pieces,  while  it  would  approach  its  end  more  directly 
if  it  had  mind,  and  the  means  of  turning  aside  from  th^m.  Thus  it  is 
that  by  going  straight  for  present  pleasure  we  sometimes  fall  over  the 
precipice  of  unhappiness  "  (Ibid.  II,  XXI,  36). 

In  short,  instinct  is  confused  perception,  which  should  make 
way  for  perception  that  is  distinct.  The  impressions  which 
nature  has  given  us  are  only  helps  to  reason,  and  should  not 
take  the  place  of  reason.  It  is  not  enough  for  us  that  we  are 
prompted  to  acts  of  humanity  by  instinct,  or  because  it  pleases  us ; 
we  must  further  be  induced  to  do  them  by  our  reason  and 
because  it  is  just  (New  JZssays,  I,  II,  4).  All  these  innate 
principles  which  we  feel  and  approve  even  when  we  have  no 
proof  of  them,  should  be  converted  into  fixed  maxims,  into 
distinct  truths. 

Leibnitz  is  not  one  of  those  philosophers  who  see  in 
instinct  the  enemy  of  reason;  but  he  reconciles  them  although 
he  also  distinguishes  between  them.  The  former  belongs  to 
every  kind  of  soul,  the  latter  is  the  privilege  of  spirits  or 
rational  souls.  One  leaves  us  in  the  physical  realm  of 
nature,  the  other  admits  us  into  the  moral  realm  of  grace. 
Instinct  has  moral  value  only  in  so  far  as  it  leads  to  reason ; 
in  the  same  way,  nature  is  sanctified  by  preparing  the  way  for 
grace,  by  contributing  through  its  laws  to  the  triumph  of 
justice. 

"  We  should  also  notice  here  another  harmony  between  the  physical 
kingdom  of  nature  and  the  moral  kingdom  of  grace ;  that  is,  between  God 
considered  as  the  architect  of  the  mechanism  of  the  universe,  and  God 
considered  as  monarch  of  the  divine  city  of  spirits"  (Monadology,  87). 
"  And  therefore  sins,  by  the  decree  of  nature  and  by  virtue  even  of  the 
mechanical  structure  of  things,  must  carry  their  punishment  with  them, 
and  in  the  same  way  good  actions  will  obtain  their  rewards  by 
mechanical  ways  through  their  relation  to  bodies,  although  this  may  not, 
and  ought  not  always  to  happen  immediately  "  (Ibid.  89). 

But  the  harmony  between  the  two  realms  does  not  go  so 
far  as  to  make  them  identical ;  God  does  not  look  in  the  same 
way  on  souls  which  are  merely  mirrors  of  the  universe,  "  and  on 
spirits  which  are  His  own  image."  To  the  former,  He  is  only 
"  what  an  inventor  is  to  his  machines  " ;  to  the  latter,  He  is 


THE  ETHICAL  PKOBLEM  IN   MODERN   TIMES  69 

"  what  a  prince  is  to  his  subjects,  or  even  a  father  to  his 
children"  (Monadology,  84).  Reason  is  infinitely  higher  than 
nature ;  it  brings  us  nearer  to  God  and  in  a  manner  makes  us 
participate  in  His  creative  power,  for  "  our  soul  is  architectonic 
in  its  voluntary  actions,  and,  discovering  the  sciences  according 
to  which  God  has  regulated  things  (pondere,  mensura,  numero, 
etc.)  it  imitates  in  its  department  and  in  the  little  world  where 
it  is  permitted  to  exercise  itself,  what  God  does  in  the  large 
world  "  (Principles  of  Nature  and  Grace,  14).  Again,  reason 
makes  us  enter  into  a  "  sort  of  society  with  God,"  and  places 
us  under  the  laws  of  that  perfect  government  of  spirits  in 
which  no  good  action  goes  unrewarded,  and  no  wicked  action 
unpunished. 

Finally,  reason  is  both  the  Absolute  Good  and  our  individual 
good.  Reason  constitutes  our  essence,  and  morality,  whose 
object  is  the  development  of  our  individual  perfection,  is  the 
same  thing  as  the  cultivation  of  reason  in  us.  We  shall  have 
reached  moral  perfection  when  our  soul  has  risen  to  distinct 
perception,  for  the  violent  desires  of  blind  passion  will  always 
have  less  force  than  the  persuasive  sweetness  of  enlightened 
reason. 

"  If  a  truth  has  no  effect  on  the  mind  it  is  because  it  has  not  been  given 
the  degree  of  distinctness  of  which  it  is  capable.  In  spite  of  appearances 
truth  is  the  strongest  thing  in  the  world,  provided  we  are  not  content  to 
consider  it  from  the  outside  and  merely  to  call  it  by  its  name,  but  pene- 
trate into  its  recesses  and  perceive  distinctly  the  logic  and  harmony 
contained  in  it"  (Erdmann's  Edn.  269,  a). 

The  more  our  reason  is  developed,  and  the  further  it 
extends,  the  more  also  will  it  unite  itself  with  all  that  is. 
Like  every  other  monad,  our  mind  is  a  mirror  of  the  uni verse.  \ 
The  more  it  becomes  conscious  of  its  own  true  nature,  the 
more  also  will  it  become  conscious  of  its  relation  to  other 
beings.  Hence  according  as  it  advances  towards  perfection 
it  rejoices  more  and  more  in  the  perfection  and  the  joy  of 
other  beings.  In  other  words,  the  more  perfect  it  becomes,  the 
more  it  loves.  To  love  or  to  cherish,  is  to  rejoice  in  the 
happiness  of  others,  or  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  it  is  to 
make  the  happiness  of  another  one's  own.  Amare  sive 
diligere  est  felicitate  alterius  delectare,  vel  quod  eodem  redit,felicita- 
tem  alienam  adsciscere  in  suam  (De  notione  jur.  et  just.  Erdm. 


70 

p.  118).  Love  is  disinterested,  since  we  feel  the  happiness 
of  him  whom  we  love  as  our  own,  and  consequently  we 
enjoy  his  happiness  directly,  without  thinking  of  any  ulterior 
advantage.  This  love  is  at  first  bestowed  on  other  men,  for 
nothing  is  more  natural  to  us  than  to  take  part  in  their  perfec- 
tion and  their  joy,  but  it  is  in  God  that  love  finds  its  supreme 
object.  The  love  of  God  is  disinterested,  for  it  is  caused  by 
no  sensible  attraction,  and  at  the  same  time  it  is  our  greatest 
good,  our  nearest  interest,  for  God  is  our  good  and  our 
perfection. 

"  God  being  the  most  perfect,  and  the  most  happy,  and  consequently 
the  most  lovable  of  substances,  and  truly  pure  love  consisting  in  the  state 
which  finds  pleasure  in  the  perfections  and  happiness  of  the  beloved 
object,  this  love  ought  to  give  us  the  greatest  pleasure  of  which  we  are 
capable,  when  God  is  its  object  .  .  .  from  the  present  time  on,  the  law  of 
God  makes  us  enjoy  a  foretaste  of  future  felicity  ...  it  gives  us  perfect 
confidence  in  the  goodness  of  our  Author  and  Master,  producing  a  true 
tranquillity  of  mind,  not  like  the  Stoics,  who  force  themselves  to  patience, 
but  by  a  present  content  which  assures  us  a  future  happiness  "  {Principles 
of  Nature  and  Grace,"  §§  16,  18). 

To  love  God  is  to  rise  to  the  comprehension  of  His  goodness, 
to  understand  that  the  world,  being  governed  by  Him,  cannot 
be  anything  but  good  ;  that  it  is  at  least  the  best  of  all  possible 
worlds ;  and  if  order  has  not  at  the  present  moment  been 
realized,  everything  must  finally  result  for  the  well  being  of 
the  good,  that  is  of  those  who  are  not  discontented  in  this  great 
State,  who  having  done  their  duty,  trust  in  Providence 
(Monadology,  90).  Underlying  the  ethical  system  of  Leibnitz 
we  recognize  his  metaphysical  optimism.  In  declaring  that 
life  is  good,  he  only  gives  expression  to  the  general  thesis  of 
which  his  whole  ethical  system  is  the  proof.  Life  is  good 
because  everything  in  it  has  its  reason,  because,  as  we  have 
seen,  nature,  passion,  and  the  senses,  rightly  viewed,  are  not 
contrary  nor  even  foreign  to  morality,  because  the  individual 
good,  the  oliceiov  epyov  of  Aristotle,  is  not  in  conflict  with  the 
Absolute  Good  of  which  Plato  speaks,  because  enlightened 
egoism  finds  its  own  advantage  in  love,  because  happiness  is 
not  in  reality  distinct  from  perfection  ;  in  short,  because  every- 
where we  find  harmony,  that  is  to  say,  the  regular  progress  of 
all  things  towards  good,  towards  supreme  happiness. 


THE  ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES  71 

Utilitarian  Systems.  Hobbes:  Individual  Interest.  Hdvetius  : 
Agreement  between  Individual  and  General  Interest. 

All  the  Cartesians  looked  for  the  principle  of  virtue  and 
happiness  in  reason.  With  them,  the  supreme  good  consists  in 
knowledge  of  the  Absolute,  which  unites  us  to  God,  and  makes 
our  will  one  with  His.  The  Empirics  thought  to  find  in  some 
particular  fact,  such  as  the  love  of  pleasure,  or  the  moral 
instinct,  or  sympathy,  the  principle  which,  when  followed  out, 
suffices*  for  the  organization  of  private  and  social  life.  Hobbes 
lays  down  clearly  the  principle  of  utilitarianism,  and  from  it 
deduces  with  the  utmost  riour  his  main  domas.  Sensa- 


tion  he  declares  to  be  the  criterion  of  good.     Hence  the  good 
is  pleasure,  and  pleasure  is  a  motion  "  helping  vital  action  " 
(jucundum  a  juvando),  a  motion  which  appears  in  conscious- 
ness   under    the    form    of    desire.       The    value   of    things   is  j 
measured  by  the  desire  they  engender,  and  their  comparative 
excellence   by   the   intensity  of    this   desire.     Again,  it  is  in     „ 
desire  and  not  in  possession  that  the  good  lies.      In  a  general 
way  pleasure    does    not    consist   "  in    the  repose  of  a   mind  / 
satisfied,"  but  "  in  a  continual  progress  of  the  desire  from  one  ^ 
object  to  another,  the  attaining  to  the  former  being  still  but 
the  way  to  the  latter."     Actual  pleasure  is  the  never-ceasing 
renewal  of  desire  in  us.      Thus  Hobbes  returns  to  the  Cyrenaic 
doctrine  :  Pleasure  lies  in  motion,  it  is  motion  itself.    JSonorum 
maximun  ad  fines  semper  ulteriores  minime  impcdita  progressio. 
As   he   recognized   no   other   good  but  the  physical  pleasure 
which  results  from  the  laws  of  life,  or  rather,  which  is  life 
itself,  he  might  have  said  of  pleasure  what  he  said  of  life,  that 
it  is  a  perpetual  motion  which,  when  it  cannot  advance  in  a 
straight  line,  becomes  a  circular  motion. 

But  Hobbes  takes  a  higher  point  of  view  than  Aristippus, 
for,  instead  of  accepting  the  present  pleasure  just  as  it  comes, 
he  takes  into  consideration  the  good  and  evil  resulting  from  it, 
and  he  teaches  that  conduct  should  be  regulated  with  a  view 
to  the  useful.  For  a  thing  may  not  in  itself  be  good  which 
yet  becomes  so  because  it  is  conducive  to  happiness.  Thus 
power  may  in  itself  not  be  delightful,  but  it  has  the  effect  of 
making  others  peaceably  disposed  towards  us  ;  it  protects  us 
against  envy  and  malice  ;  it  compels  respect  ;  it  wins  for  us 
good  will  and  love,  and  all  these  advantages  make  it  desirable 


72  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

and  good.  In  the  same  way,  human  society,  which  was  in  the 
beginning  merely  a  state  of  helium  omnium  contra  omnes, 
becomes,  when  for  the  blind  pursuit  of  pleasure  is  substituted  the 
intelligent  pursuit  of  the  useful,  a  state  of  peace  and  order  in 
which  the  individual  in  return  for  his  independence,  which  he 
has  forfeited,  obtains  an  advantage  that  is  much  more  real, 
namely,  security.  Inasmuch  as  it  saves  us  from  the  miseries 
of  a  state  of  nature,  society  is  advantageous  and  useful,  and 
therefore  good. 

At  the  same  time,  the  interest  by  which,  according  to 
Hobbes,  our  actions  should  be  guided,  is  always  individual 
interest — homo  homini  lupus ;  and  the  instinctive  hatred  which 
/  men  bear  to  their  fellow-creatures  may  be  veiled  by  politeness 
"N  and  education  but  cannot  be  obliterated,  and  the  proof  of  it  is, 
the  pleasure  in  backbiting  that  prevails  in  conversation  (De 
'  Give.,  Pref.).  But  our  hatred  for  others  flows  from  self-love. 
As  soon  as  they  serve  our  interest  they  become  lovable,  and  as 
man  hates  his  fellowmen  on  account  of  the  injury  they  have 
caused  him,  he  may  love  them  on  account  of  the  advantages  he 
derives  from  them.  We  may  act  benevolently  towards  others 
because  it  is  an  egoistical,  and  therefore  a  natural  satisfaction 
to  feel  that  we  have  the  power  to  make  not  only  our  own 
happiness  but  that  of  others.  Pity  for  others  in  their  mis- 
fortunes is  the  fear  we  have  that  the  like  calamity  may  befall 
ourselves.  Finally,  when  we  recognize  the  superiority  of  a 
person  and  his  power  to  injure  us,  it  is  right  to  honour  him. 
Thus  Hobbes  is  far  from  making  benevolence  arise  out  of  self- 
love,  like  Bentham ;  the  general  interest  has  no  importance 
in  his  eyes  except  in  so  far  as  it  promotes  the  individual 
interest.  His  doctrine  is  one  of  exclusive  egoism. 

The  doctrines  of  Helvetius  were  at  once  a  continuation  and 
a  contradiction  of  Hobbism.  He  adopted  the  premisses  of 
Hobbes  and  rejected  all  his  conclusions.  Self-love  was  the 
only  rule  he  recognized.  "  The  moral  universe  is  as  com- 
pletely subject  to  the  laws  of  interest  as  the  physical 
universe  to  the  laws  of  motion "  (De  I' Esprit,  II,  2).  But 
while  to  Hobbes  the  cause  of  division  and  hatred  was  the 
interest  of  the  individual,  Helvetius  discovered,  in  the  working 
of  the  laws  of  this  interest,  the  principles  of  tolerance  and  of 
sympathy. 


I 

THE  ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  73 

"  Men  are  not  wicked,  but  they  are  the  slaves  of  their  own  interests 
(Ibid.  Ch.  II,  5).  We  must  take  them  as  they  are  ;  to  be  vexed  by  the 
effects  of  their  self-love  would  be  like  complaining  of  an  April  shower. 
.  .  .  Men  are  what  they  must  be  ;  all  hatred  of  them  is  unjust ;  fools 
bring  forth  folly  as  a  wilding  bears  bitter  fruit  .  .  .  the  humane  man 
is  he  to  whom  the  sight  of  another's  misfortune  is  unbearable,  and  who 
to  escape  from  this  sight  is  compelled,  so  to  speak,  to  succour  the 
unfortunate." 

Benevolence  is  therefore  a  matter  of  nerves.  He  who  ) 
acts  kindly  thinks  only  of  his  own  relief.  While  obeying 
the  dictates  of  his  heart  he  is  ruled  by  his  own  interest. 
This  interest  may  change  so  as  to  bring  about  alternately 
virtue  and  vice,  and  just  as  it  inspires  different  courses  of 
action,  it  also  gives  rise  to  contradictory  opinions.  In  the 
eyes  of  him  whom  he  condemns  a  judge  is  always  unjust,  and 
in  the  opinion  of  him  in  whose  favour  he  decides  he  is  always 
just.  Hence  if  morality  did  no  more  than  prescribe  regard 
to  self-interest,  there  would  be  no  certain  rule  for  it.  There 
are  two  paramount  interests  which  conflict  with  one  another : 
the  individual,  and  the  general  interest. 

"  Hence  the  main  object  of  moralists  should  be  to  determine  the  proper 
use  of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  to  discover  how  these  can  be  employed 
in  order  to  connect  the  personal  with  the  general  interest.  This  union 
is  the  supreme  end  which  the  science  of  Ethics  should  set  before  itself.  . 
If  citizens  could  not  attain  their  own  happiness  without  at  the  same  time 
furthering  the  public  good,  the  only  evildoers  would  be  the  madmen  ;  all 
men  would  be  compelled  to  be  virtuous,  and  the  felicity  of  nations  would 
be  a  blessing  bestowed  upon  them  by  moral  science  "  (De  VEsp.  II,  22). 

Thus  Helvetius  calls  upon  the  law  to  assist  morality.  To  '. 
expect  men  to  practise  altruism  through  disinterested  good- 
will is  only  a  dream  of  the  mystics,  who  refuse  to  see  that 
self-interest  is  the  only  force  by  which  the  human  machine  is 
worked.  Nothing  less  than  the  threats  of  the  law  are  needed 
for  the  prevention  through  fear  of  every  action  contrary  to  the 
public  good,  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  honour  and  esteem  by 
which  the  public  repays  services  rendered  to  it,  heroism  would 
.disappear.  But  if  morality  cannot  do  without  the  support  of 
the  law,  the  law,  on  the  other  hand,  must  turn  to  morality  for 
instruction.  According  to  Hobbes,  it  is  enough  if  the  decrees  of 
legislation  are  upheld  by  force,  but  Helvetius  demands  that  these 
decrees  be  further  justified  by  reason,  that  is  to  say,  that  they 


74  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

be  always  in  accordance  with  the  interests  of  the  people  (De 
I' Esprit,  II,  17).  Is  not  this,  moreover,  the  surest  way  of 
causing  force  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  law  ?  To  sum  up  : 
according  to  Helvetius,  self-interest  demands  a  sanction  for  all 
the  rules  of  morality.  .This  sanction  acts  by  way  of  restraint 
or  of  opinion.  "  Reward,  punishment,  honour,  or  disgrace  being 
all  in  the  dispensation  of  the  legislator,  are  four  kinds  of 
divinities  by  which  he  may  always  promote  the  public  good  " 
{Ibid.  II,  22).  The  sanction  of  opinion  differs  only  in 
appearance  from  the  legal  sanction,  for  the  decisions  of  the 
former  also  represent  the  thought  of  the  legislator,  who, 
by  education,  directs  and  forms  men's  consciences,  and  thus 
gives  to  morality  its  watchword. 

Bentham  :    Moral  Arithmetic ;    General  Happiness. 

Bentham,  who  was  a  disciple  of  Hobbes  and  of  Helvetius, 
and  a  jurist  as  well  as  a  philosopher,  gave  by  his  profound 
analysis  of  the  different  kinds  of  pleasure,  a  new  development 
to  utilitarianism,  the  principles  of  which  he,  moreover,  applied 
to  jurisprudence.  The  maxim,  which  according  to  him  should 
be  the  starting  point  in  our  moral  judgments,  is  derived  from 
the  consideration  of  the  consequences  of  our  actions.  Those 
actions  cannot  be  called  good  to  wrhich  we  are  moved  by  a  blind 
impulse  of  sympathy,  but  only  those  whose  pleasurable  conse- 
quences we  know,  that  is  to  say,  which  we  foresee  will  result  in 
pleasure  for  us,  or  at  least  in  more  pleasure  than  pain.  There 
is,  it  is  true,  says  Bentham,  a  strange  doctrine,  called  asceticism, 
which  represents  pleasure  as  an  evil,  pain  as  a  good.  There 
could  not  be  a  more  absurd  paradox.  Every  pleasure,  were 
it  the  most  abominable  pleasure  of  the  vilest  of  criminals, 
is  in  itself  good,  and  is  bad  only  owing  to  a  circumstance 
external  and  collateral  to  it,  namely,  the  risk  of  painful 
consequences  which  it  involves.  Although  all  pleasures  are 
good,  they  are  not  all  good  in  the  same  degree,  and  in  order 
to  attain  happiness,  that  is,  the  largest  sum  of  pleasure  possible, 
morality  teaches  us  to  make  a  choice  between  them,  and  to 
regulate  this  choice  according  to  the  quantity  of  happiness 
which  each  one  represents.  The  determination  of  the  compara- 
tive value  of  pleasures  is  the  object  of  a  science  which  Bentham 
hoped  to  found,  and  which  he  calls  moral  arithmetic.  In  this 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  75 

science,  pleasures  are  to  be  considered,  in  the  first  place,  with 
respect  to  intrinsic  circumstances,  which  add  to  or  diminish 
their  value ;  these  are  their  intensity,  duration,  certainty, 
propinquity,  fecundity,  purity — a  pure  pleasure  means,  with 
Bentham,  one  that  is  not  mixed  with  pain.  His  moral  system, 
in  quest  of  the  greatest  pleasure,  chooses  the  one  that 
corresponds  to  the  best  combination  of  these  divers,  and  often 
contrary  relations.  But  it  is  not  enough  that  one  pleasure 
should  in  itself  be  preferable  to  another,  it  must  further 
appear  to  be  so  to  him  who  is  pursuing  it.  Views  of  pleasure 
do  actually  differ,  according  to  climate,  temperament,  age,  sex, 
character,  habits,  the  development  of  the  mind,  and  in  general 
all  those  things  by  which  the  emotions  are  modified.  These 
elements  also  belong  to  the  data  of  the  problems  of  moral 
arithmetic. 

Finally,  the  social  consequences  of  our  acts  are,  in  Bentham's 
view,  those  which  it  is  right  to  consider  most  especially ; 
because  the  social  interest  outweighs  individual  interests,  seeing 
that  it  embraces  them  all.  Now,  men  seldom  measure  the 
social  consequences  of  actions ;  in  a  theft  we  only  perceive  the 
wrong  that  is  done  to  the  person  robbed  and  indirectly  to  his 
family;  we  do  riot  notice  the  evil  effect  of  the  alarm  caused  by 
the  crime,  the  yet  greater  evil  which  will  result  from  the  bad 
example ;  still  less  do  we  suspect  the  disorganization  of  society 
which  every  act  contrary  to  the  law  tends  to  produce.  But 
if,  as  Bentham  says,  the  individual  interest  blends  with  the 
general,  if  we  are  to  adopt  as  our  ultimate  ethical  formula  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  what  a  series  of 
considerations  is  involved  in  the  smallest  voluntary  decision ! 
For  instance,  private  conduct  is  bound  to  be  in  conformity  with 
the  law  of  political  economy,  and  Ethics  then  becomes  a  vast, 
complex  science  which  embraces  Sociology.  In  order  to  know 
our  interest  and  to  make  our  actions  conformable  to  it, 
it  was  found  necessary  to  undertake  a  psychological  study  of 
the  emotions,  and  thence  to  deduce  rules  for  the  classification 
of  pleasures ;  now  we  must  further  dive  into  the  intricate 
mechanism  of  social  interests  into  which  the  lesser  interests  of 
individuals  are  merged. 

But  among  political  sciences  the  science  of  Jurisprudence 
is  the  most  closely  connected  with  Ethics.  The  laws  are 


76  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

provisions  made  in  order  to  ensure  to  citizens  the  greatest 
sum  of  happiness  possible.  Like  the  rules  of  morality  they 
refer  to  the  interest  of  all.  It  is  their  utility  that  constitutes 
their  justice,  and  their  degree  of  excellence  is  measured  by  the 
advantage  which  the  public  derives  from  them.  The  system 
of  penalties  inflicted  by  the  law  is  justified  by  the  same  reason. 
All  pain  is  indeed  an  evil,  but  this  evil  is  less  than  that 
which  it  is  intended  to  prevent.  While  utilitarianism  condemns 
as  a  useless  suffering  expiation  pure  and  simple,  which  Plato 
advocates  in  the  name  of  justice,  it  approves  the  punishment 
which  the  magistrate  dispenses  not  in  order  to  satisfy  a  desire 
for  vengeance,  but  to  prevent  or  to  make  less  frequent  the 
recurrence  of  guilty  actions.  Moreover,  the  pain  of  the 
punishment  should  be  less  than  the  pain  caused  by  the  offence. 
The  law  is  at  once  based  upon  and  limited  by  utility.  Legislation 
serves  the  ends  of  morality  by  so  combining  the  motives  which 
should  determine  men's  desires,  as  to  make  them  tend  to  their 
greatest  good.  But  the  sphere  of  action  of  the  law  is 
narrower  than  that  of  morals,  and  this  is  the  distinction 
between  them ;  for  laws  as  a  rule  can  do  nothing  to  prevent 
either  those  bad  actions  which  are  their  own  punishment,  or 
those  which  opinion  disapproves,  or  again  those  which  religion 
•condemns.  That  he  may  not  waste  his  power  in  fighting 
abuses  which  he  is  unable  to  prevent,  the  legislator  in  such 
cases  should  leave  everything  to  custom,  to  the  habits  and  to  the 
prevailing  religion,  all  of  which  are  precious  auxiliaries,  whose 
support  it  is,  moreover,  his  interest  to  gain.  In  this  practical 
and  sensible  advice  we  recognize  the  jurist  who,  while  building 
up  an  ethical  system,  has  in  view,  above  all,  the  reform  of  the 
law. 

Morality  of  Sentiment :  Moral  Sense  ;  Moral  Instinct.  Adam 
Smith :  Sympathy. 

The  doctrine  of  moral  sentiments,  in  opposition  to  utilita- 
rianism, denies  that  there  is  only  room  in  the  human  mind  for 
self-love,  and  takes  the  sentiment  which  is  the  exact  opposite  of 
self-love,  namely  sympathy,  to  be  the  guide  of  moral  life. 
Shaftesbury  {Inquiry  concerning  Virtue  and  Merit},  the  first 
representative  of  this  doctrine,  discovered  the  existence  of  a 
moral  sense  which  perceives  the  good  and  evil  in  actions,  as 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES  77 

sight  perceives  whiteness  or  blackness  in  objects.  This, 
delicate  sense  finds  more  sweetness  in  the  subtle  joys  of 
self-sacrifice  than  in  the  brutal  satisfactions  of  egoism.  By 
trusting  to  its  guidance  we  shall  find  happiness  without 
seeking  it,  in  the  practice  of  kindness  and  disinterestedness. 

This  doctrine  of  Shaftesbury  was  developed  by  Hutcheson 
{Inquiry  concerning  the  Original  of  our  Ideas  of  Virtue:  System 
of  Moral  Philosophy}.  He  maintains  that  the  Good  and  the 
Beautiful  are  immediately  perceived  by  means  of  two  special 
senses,  which  differ  from  sight  and  other  senses  only  in  that  they 
are  internal.  Laying  down  as  a  principle  the  pre-eminence  of 
our  moral  sense,  Hutcheson  assigns  to  it  the  direction  of  our 
faculties.  For  the  rest  this  sense  is  with  him  nothing  else, 
than  the  instinct  of  benevolence.  For  he  only  values  actions 
inspired  by  disinterestedness  ;  and  although  he  allows  that  some 
actions  dictated  by  self-love  are  innocent  and  may  be  forgiven, 
he  never  calls  them  good. 

Hume's  ethical  doctrine  (Inquiry  into  the  Principles  of 
Morals)  was  original,  but  was  at  the  same  time  connected 
with  the  preceding.  He  refers  the  perception  and  the  pursuit 
of  the  good  to  an  instinct.  This  instinct  is  not  the  instinct 
of  self-love,  which  reveals  to  us  our  own  good  only,  but 
humanity,  which  is  a  "  feeling  for  the  happiness  of  mankind." 
According  to  Hume  the  good  is  equivalent  to  the  useful, 
not  to  the  private  utility  of  the  agents,  but  to  utility  in 
general.  If  our  benevolent  affections  have  a  higher  value  than 
our  selfish  inclinations,  it  is  not  by  virtue  of  their  intrinsic 
nature,  but  of  their  greater  utility;  for  the  former  tend  to  the 
good  of  all  men,  whereas  the  latter  aim  only  at  the  good  of  one 
individual.  Private  virtues  have  their  own  worth,  and  we  rightly 
esteem  skill  and  prudence,  but  benevolence  and  justice  should 
be  preferred  to  them,  so  that  the  lesser  utility  should  not 
prevail  over  the  greater.  Hume's  doctrine  would  appear  to  be 
merely  utilitarian  like  Bentham's,  but  the  rule  of  universal 
happiness  is  given  by  him,  not  as  the  result  of  reason,  but  on 
the  faith  of  an  instinct,  and  in  Ethics  he  would  have  us  follow 
the  promptings  of  the  heart.  It  is  feeling  that  draws  us  to  the 
general  happiness,  and  it  alone  can  explain  moral  blame  or 
approbation. 

The  theory  of  moral  sentiments  appears  in  its  most  ingenious 


78  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

form  in  the  system  of  Adam  Smith,  who  founded  the  rules  of 
conduct  on  the  psychological  laws  of  sympathy.  By  sympathy 
Adam  Smith  means  the  communication  to  our  minds  of  all  the 
feelings  of  others.  He  remarks,  for  instance,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  witness  the  sufferings  of  others  without  being  affected  by 
the  contagion  of  this  suffering ;  that  we  cannot  hear  a  child's 
laughter,  or  watch  the  gambols  of  an  animal,  without  being 
instinctively  moved  to  take  part  in  their  frolics  and  games. 
Nature  has  thus  joined  us  in  a  fellowship  with  other  men,  so 
that  their  pleasures  and  their  pains  become  our  pleasures  and 
pains.  Nature  has  so  willed  it,  moreover,  that  this  feeling  of 
sympathy  should  not  fail  to  bring  pleasure,  and  it  may  be  sought 
for  its  own  charm.  According  to  Adam  Smith  this  fact  in  itself 

.  suffices  as  a  foundation  for  morality.  It  might  seem,  it  is  true, 
that  the  mind  must  be  affected  by  the  evil  as  well  as  by  the 
good  emotions  of  others,  but  this  is  not  the  case.  The  heart 
when  it  follows  its  natural  inclinations  is  always  drawn  to  the 
good.  We  are  less  moved  by  the  passion  of  a  violent  man 
than  by  the  gentle  and  patient  resignation  of  the  victim  of  his 
rage ;  but  if  it  is  a  question  of  virtuous  indignation  caused 
by  horror  of  vice,  we  are  on  the  side  of  him  who  feels  it,  and 
not  on  the  side  of  him  who  is  the  object  of  it.  Speaking 
generally,  the  impulses  of  sympathy  are  always  towards  what 

\  we  call  morality,  which  is  merely  the  expression  of  the  laws  of 
sympathy.  Consequently  the  following  may  be  laid  down  as  a 
practical  maxim :  We  should  have  only  those  sentiments  and 
should  perform  only  those  actions  which  ought  to  bring  the 
approbation  of  our  fellow-creatures  and  gain  their  sympathy. 

But  what  is  the  nature  of  the  sympathy  which  we  ought  to 
deserve  ?  What  are  its  characteristics  ?  It  should,  in  the  first 
place,  be  pure.  Those  actions  alone  are  absolutely  good  which 
excite  in  us  an  unreserved  or  unqualified  sympathy.  Those 
which  leave  a  mixed  impression  may  be  regarded  with  suspicion. 
Adam  Smith  adds  that  this  sympathy  should  be  universal,  it  is 
not  enough  to  win  the  admiration  of  a  friend,  or  of  a  small 
circle,  we  should  deserve  to  be  admired  by  all  men.  Some- 
times even  we  should  act  in  opposition  to  prejudice  and  face 
public  censure,  in  order  to  obtain  from  posterity,  which  is 
the  only  equitable  judge  of  conduct,  a  tardy  but  universal 
sympathy,  and  one  that  will  last  for  ever.  For  the  value  of 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  79 

our  actions  is  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  approbation  we 
obtain,  and  it  should  be  our  ambition  to  extend  as  far  as 
possible  the  circle  of  those  who  feel  affection  for  us.  Jouffroy 
sums  up  the  Ethics  of  Adam  Smith  thus : 

"The  goodness  of  an  action  is  in  direct  proportion  to  the -approbation 
which  it  excites  in  other  human  beings,  and  the  best  actions  are  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  obtain  the  most  pure  and  universal  sympathy  possible,  in 
other  words  a  sympathy  unmixed  with  antipathy,  and  felt  not  only  by 
a  few  men  but  by  the  whole  of  humanity." 

If  the  actions  of  others  did  not  sometimes  excite  in  us  sym- 
pathy and  sometimes  antipathy,  we  should  have  no  conception 
of  the  moral  value  of  our  own  actions.  A  man  alone  in  the 
world  would  remain  ignorant  of  good  and  evil,  for  it  is  after 
we  have  judged  others  that  we  judge  ourselves.  Experience 
has  taught  us  what  impressions  our  actions  and  our  thoughts 
would  make  on  others  if  they  were  known.  Our  imagination 
can  always  supply  witnesses  to  our  actions ;  more  than  this, 
we  are  at  once  the  spectators  and  the  performers  of  our  own 
actions,  and  we  sympathize  with  our  own  sentiments  as  we 
should  with  those  of  others.  If  we  observe  our  own  actions 
as  disinterested  spectators,  and  if  we  grant  them  the  same 
degree  of  approval  as  we  should  to  the  actions  of  others,  the 
approbation  which  we  feel  for  ourselves  will  be  equivalent  to 
that  of  our  fellow-creatures.  Let  each  one  of  us  then  be  an 
impartial  spectator  of  himself,  and  let  him  value  the  goodness 
of  his  actions  according  to  the  amount  of  sympathy  that  he 
finds  in  his  own  heart  for  them. 

Adam  Smith's  critics  remark  that  after  all  he  refers  us  to 
conscience.  Nevertheless,  even  while  he  substitutes  the  im- 
partial spectator  for  the  sympathy  of  men  in  general,  Adam 
Smith  extracts  this  second  criterion  from  the  first ;  even  what 
is  called  duty  he  regards  as  born  of  sentiment,  and  the  rules 
expressing  it  are  only  generalizations  of  particular  decisions 
made  by  the  sympathetic  instinct  (Jouffroy,  loc.  cit.).  When 
the  impartial  spectator  has  once  approved  of  certain  con- 
duct, what  use  is  there  in  consulting  him  in  similar  cases  in 
the  future  1  We  adhere  to  the  rule  which  embodies  our  past 
experience,  and  this  is  called  acting  according  to  duty.  Thus, 
although  he  practically  substituted  for  sympathy  the  rule  ofj 
duty,  or,  the  decision  of  the  impartial  spectators,  Adam  Smith 


80  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

still  remains  in   theory  true  to  his  principle,  for  he  derives 
both  of  these  from  sympathy. 

Kant :  Morality  based  on  the  Idea  of  Duty ;  Transition  from 
the  Form  of  the  Law  to  its  Matter ;  Autonomy  of  the  Will. 

!  So  far,  as  we  have  seen,  philosophers  have  made  morality 
'rest  on  the  notion  of  the  Supreme  Good,  which  includes  both 
(virtue  and  happiness.  Kant,  while  recognizing  that  the 
/  highest  good  consists  of  these  two  elements,  makes  a  dis- 
!  tinction  between  the  Supreme  Good,  properly  so  called,  and 
-Jbhe  moral  good.  Morality  implies  absolute  disinterested- 
ness, and  it  does  not  appeal  to  feeling ;  it  imposes  itself 
directly  upon  the  will,  and  has  therefore  nothing  to  do  with 
the  idea  of  happiness.  The  Supreme  Good  is  only  a 
desideratum.  Morality  implies,  indeed,  as  its  postulate,  a 
future  life  which  would  permit  of  harmony  between  virtue 
and  happiness,  but  this  is  the  consummation  of  morality,  not 
[  its  foundation.  In  the  second  place,  before  Kant,  philosophers 
treated  the  idea  of  law  as  subordinate  to  that  of  the  Good.  We 
should,  they  taught,  aim  at  that  which  our  reason  reveals  to 
us  as  our  good.  We  are  determined  by  a  rational  ideal,  or 
an  end  that  is  consonant  with  our  sensible  nature.  The 
originality  of  Kant's  ethical  doctrine  lies  in  his  deduction 
of  the  notion  of  good  from  the  notion  of  duty,  in  his  deriva- 
tion of  the  contents  of  the  law  from  the  form  of  the  law. 
To  him  belongs  the  merit  of  having  first  given  due  clearness 
to  the  current  notion  of  law  or  duty,  and  of  having  founded 
on  this  principle  a  new  conception  of  the  moral  life. 

The  only  thing  that  can  be  called  good  without  reservation 
is,  Kant  tells  us,  the  Good  Will.  The  best  gifts  of  nature  or 
fortune  may  prove  useless,  or  even  pernicious,  but  a  will  does 
not  owe  its  goodness  to  the  end  it  seeks.  It  is  good  in  itself, 
and  shines  with  its  own  splendour,  like  a  precious  stone  which 
derives  none  of  its  worth  from  its  utility.  Nor  is  a  volition 
good  on  account  of  the  natural  disposition  by  which  it  may 
be  determined,  even  if  this  be  in  itself  good.  An  action, 
however  praiseworthy,  if  it  springs  from  a  natural  incli- 
nation or  lively  sympathy,  is,  nevertheless,  not  a  moral 
action.  It  may  be  worthy  of  praise ;  it  is  desirable  that 
such  actions  should  be  encouraged ;  it  may  be  a  beautiful 


THE   ETHICAL  PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  81 

action,  but  it  is  not  morally  good.  The  distinctive  characteristic 
of  the  good  will  does  not  lie  in  its  end,  nor  in  the  merit  of  the 
will  itself,  but  in  the  principle  according  to  which  it  acts, 
and  in  its  relation  to  this  principle.  Now  this  principle  must 
not  be  drawn  from  feeling,  but  from  reason :  it  must  not  be 
material  but  formal ;  otherwise,  the  principle  would  be  identified 
with  the  end,  or  with  the  motives  of  the  action,  and  con- 
sequently would  still  lack  the  character  of  being  moral.  Finally, 
this  principle  should  apply  not  only  to  every  human  will,  but 
to  every  rational  being.  In  a  word,  this  principle  is  a  priori, 
though  it  still  belongs  to  practical,  not  to  speculative  reason. 
It  is  duty,  which  we  shall  now  proceed  to  examine  more 
closely. 

If  we  were  to  imagine  a  will  that  is  not  necessarily  governed 'I 
by  reason,  but  is  divided,  and  alternately  determined  by  formal  \ 
principles  and  material  motives,  that  is,  by  reason  and  by  sensi- 
bility, such  a  will  is  not  absolutely  good.  And,  as  it  is  not 
always  or  by  nature,  obedient  to  reason,  the  will  is  in  a  man- 
ner constrained,  although  only  by  an  entirely  moral  necessity, 
to  obey  reason.  This  compulsion  of  the  will  by  reason  is  what 
Kant  calls  an  imperative.  There  are  several  kinds  of  impera- 
tives. Those  which  demand  a  certain  action,  not  for  the  sake  of 
the  action  itself,  but  for  the  result  to  be  obtained  through  it, 
are  hypothetical  imperatives:  for  example,  the  prescriptions  given 
by  doctors  to  cure  the  sick,  or  those  of  the  poisoner  to  kill  his 
victims,  are  all  imperatives,  but  they  are  conditional  or  hypo- 
thetical imperatives,  that  is  to  say,  they  are  subordinate  to 
certain  ends,  and  in  this  respect  are  all  equally  good  and 
useful.  In  general,  the  maxims  connected  with  the  fulfilment 
of  our  desires,  and  of  the  strongest  of  our  desires,  which  is  the 
desire  for  happiness,  are  hypothetical  imperatives.  The  formula 
for  this  class  of  imperatives  is  the  well-known  maxim,  "  Who 
wills  the  end  wills  the  means." 

But  there  is  an  imperative  which  commands  an  action,  not 
for  the  sake  of  the  result,  but  for  its  own  sake,  and  which  has 
relation  only  to  the  principle  and  the  essence  of  the  action ; 
this  is  the  categorical  imperative,  the  imperative  of  morality,  and  \ 
its  formula  is,  "  Do  your  duty,  come  what  will."     The  first  kind  \ 
of  maxims  are,  in  reality,  only  counsels  or  rules ;  the  categorical 
imperatives  alone  deserve  the  name  of  laws  or  commands.     It 

II.  F 


82  THE  PKOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

is  evident  that  these  rules  of  skill,  the  counsels  of  prudence, 
refer  always  to  a  certain  end,  and  have  value  only  in  so  far 
as  one  knows  the  end  and  adapts  them  to  it.  The  practical, 
that  is,  the  moral  laws,  on  the  contrary,  impose  themselves 
upon  us  and  determine  the  will  to  action  without  regard  to 
the  result.  They  are  immediately  evident,  so  that  as  soon  as 
the  will  perceives  these  laws,  it  knows  that,  as  will,  it  must 
obey  them.  But  this  implies  that  these  laws  impose  themselves 
on  every  will,  of  whatever  kind;  so  that  the  distinctive  charac- 
teristic of  these  laws  is  their  universality,  and  they  may  be 
resolved  into  the  following  formula :  "  Act  on  a  maxim 
which  thou  canst  will  to  be  law  universal."  Universality 
is  a  sign  by  which  we  can  infallibly  recognize  the  law  of 
duty ;  for  though  each  one  of  us,  when  he  violates  this 
law,  is  willing  that  there  should  be  an  exception  made  in 
his  own  case,  as  not  being  of  great  consequence,  still  he 
cannot  will  that  the  law  should  not  exist;  for  he  would  not 
consent  to  have  it  violated  by  others  in  their  dealings  with 
him,  in  the  same  way  as  he  violates  it  himself :  for  instance, 
he  who  robs  his  neighbour  willingly  allows  himself  this  infrac- 
tion of  the  law,  but  he  would  not  admit  that  it  is  in  a  universal 
and  absolute  way  permissible  to  take  what  belongs  to  another. 
So  far,  however,  we  have  only  arrived  at  a  formula  which 
expresses  the  law :  we  do  not  yet  know  anything  of  its 
contents.  Every  action  has  an  end,  even  those  which  do 
not  seem  to  be  done  for  an  end ;  but  we  must  distinguish 
material  ends,  or  the  particular  objects  of  desire,  which  are 
all  relative  to  the  particular  nature  of  the  faculty  of  desire, 
and  the  formal  or  objective  ends,  which  reason  sets  before  every 
rational  creature  as  the  absolute  object  of  duty.  The  relative 
or  subjective  ends  give  rise  to  the  hypothetical  imperatives,  to 
those,  that  is,  which  command  us  to  seek  means  which  are 

,  relative  to  certain  ends,  themselves  also  relative.  Objective 
ends  are  expressed  in  a  categorical  imperative,  which  com- 
mands an  action  as  having  an  absolute  worth  on  account  of 

1  its  relation  to  an  absolute  end. 

Now  every  rational  being  is  an  absolute  end,  that  is  to  say, 
he  should  never  regard  himself  as  a  means,  but  always  as  an 
end.  Every  time,  for  instance,  that  a  man  follows  his  inclina- 
tions rather  than  his  reason,  he  treats  himself  as  a  means ;  but 


THE   ETHICAL   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  83 

to  be  means  is  the  peculiarity  of  things.  Persons,  on  the  contrary 
should  never  be  treated  this  way;  they  are  things-in-them-\ 
selves,  and  on  this  account  inviolable,  and  should  be  respected 
by  every  other  will,  as  well  as  by  themselves.  This  restricts, 
indeed,  the  liberty  of  each  individual,  but  at  the  same  time 
it  protects  him,  and  causes  man  to  be  respected  by  his  fellows. 

The  first  formula  given  by  Kant  is  thus  transformed 
and  must  be  expressed  in  these  terms :  "  Act  so  as  to  treat 
humanity,  whether  in  thyself  or  in  another,  always  as  end, 
and  never  as  means."  According  to  this  formula  our  actions 
should  not  only  not  profane  humanity  by  violating  its  rights, 
but  should  also  be  in  harmony  with  humanity,  that  is,  should 
tend  to  its  perfection  and  improvement.  From  this  follows 
the  distinction  between  acts  of  perfect  and  imperfect  obligation. 

But  as  long  as  we  regard  the  principle  of  morality  as  an 
external  law  to  which  the  will  is  subject,  it  is  impossible  to 
understand  why  the  will  should  simply  obey  it  without  being 
determined  by  some  force  or  attraction,  which  would  destroy 
the  universality  of  the  law.  Hence  the  universality  of  the 
moral  principle  is  comprehensible  only  on  condition  that  it  is 
not  only  a  law  of  the  will,  but  a  law  that  the  will  wills  and 
contains  within  itself ;  in  a  word,  on  condition  that  it  is  a 
voluntary  law  of  rational  beings. 

Thus  Kant  conceives  a  "  kingdom  of  ends,"  that  is  to  say,  a 
certain  ideal  which  includes  all  rational  wills,  these  being  ends 
in  themselves,  and  treating  one  another  as  such ;  and  they 
are  ends  in  themselves  only  because  they  have  themselves 
instituted  a  law,  and  at  the  same  time  established  it  for  all 
rational  wills.  This  is  what  Kant  calls  the  autonomy  of  the\ 
will :  it  is  this  privilege  of  participating  in  the  institution  of 
the  universal  laws,  and  of  only  being  obliged  to  obey  laws 
that  are  universal  and  that  nevertheless  the  rational  being 
contains  within  himself,  which  alone  gives  to  him  an  intrinsic 
and  absolute  value.  This  new  characteristic  of  the  moral  law 
is  expressed  by  a  new  formula,  "  Act  in  such  a  way  that  the 
will  can  regard  itself  as  in  its  maxims  imposing  universal 
laws." 

Kant's  ethical  doctrine  is  to  be  summed  up  in  the  following 
three  principles :  (1)  The  categorical  imperative,  (2)  Humanity 
considered  as  an  end  in  itself,  (3)  the  autonomy  of  the  will. 


\ 


84  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

The  separation  of  the  idea  of  duty  from  all  interested 
motives ;  the  absolute  obligatoriness  of  the  law,  quite  apart 
from  its  end  ;  the  universality  of  this  law :  man  regarded  as 
inviolable,  inasmuch  as  he  is  a  free  and  rational  being : 
finally,  the  law  itself  as  having  its  principle  in  the  inner  being 
and  essence  of  the  moral  agent,  and  never  as  the  result  of  a 
force  or  power  that  is  external  and  not  ratified  and  confirmed 
by  the  dictamen  of  conscience  :  these  are  the  principles  con- 
taining the  essence  of  his  conception  of  the  moral  life,  which 
is  entirely  built  up  on  the  notion  of  duty,  on  the  form  of  the 
law. 

John  Stuart  Mill :  Difference  of  Quality  in  Pleasures  ;  Egoism 
and  Altruism. 

Since  Kant  the  ethical  problem  has  not  been  neglected ; 
for  the  human  mind  will  never  cease  to  inquire  into  its  own 
nature  and  its  own  destiny.  But  however  interesting  the 
more  recent  enquiries  may  be,  we  shall  here  content  ourselves . 
with  giving  an  account  of  the  developments  which  Utilitarian 
ethics  owe  to  the  work  of  J.  S.  Mill  and  Herbert  Spencer. 
Mill  tries  to  prove  that  Utilitarianism  can  account  for  the 
moral  traditions  of  mankind,  that  it  can  satisfy  the  noblest 
minds,  and  can  without  inconsistency  be  made  the  basis  of"  a 
scheme  of  social  ethics.  This  is  how  he  formulates  the 
principle  of  Utilitarianism  : 

"  The  creed  which  accepts  as  the  foundation  of  morals  utility,  or  the 
Greatest  Happiness  principle,  holds  that  actions  are  right  in  proportion  as 
they  tend  to  promote  happiness,  wrong  as  they  tend  to  produce  the  reverse 
of  happiness.  By  happiness  is.  intended  pleasure  and  the  absence  of 
pain  ;  by  unhappiness  pain  and  the  privation  of  pleasure  "  (  Utilitarianism, 
p.  9). 

We  are  not  told  whether  it  is  here  a  question  of  the 
happiness  of  the  individual  or  of  universal  happiness.  The 
moral  ideas  revealed  to  us  by  conscience  are  not  contrary  to 
this  principle,  for  it  is  easy  to  give  such  a  psychological  expla- 
nation of  these  ideas  as  will  prove  that  they  have  their  origin 
in  the  pursuit  of  happiness. 

"  Life  would  be  a  poor  thing,  very  ill  provided  with  sources  of  happi- 
ness, if  there  were  not  this  provision  of  nature  by  which  things  originally 
indifferent,  but  conducive  to,  or  otherwise  associated  with,  the  satisfaction 


THE  ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES  85 

of  our  primitive  desires,  become  in  themselves  sources  of  pleasure  more 
valuable  than  the  primitive  pleasures,  both  in  permanency,  in  the  space  of 
human  existence  that  they  are  capable  of  covering,  and  even  in  intensity. 
Virtue,  according  to  the  utilitarian  conception,  is  a  good  of  this  descrip- 
tion. There  was  no  original  desire  of  it  or  motive  to  it,  save  its  conducive- 
ness  to  pleasure,  and  especially  to  protection  from  pain.  But  through  the 
association  thus  formed  it  may  be  felt  a  good  in  itself,  and  desired  as  such 
with  as  great  an  intensity  as  any  other  good  "  (  Utilitarianism,  p.  55). 

Thus  through  the  laws  of  association  we  come  to  like  for  \ 
their   own  sate   things   which   we    originally    only    liked    as  / 
means  to  ulterior  ends.     The  miser  loves  money  for  its  own ' 
sake,    owing    to    the    pleasant    notions    associated    with     its 
possession.     We  have  come  to  love  virtue  as  the  miser  loves 
money ;  and  all  our  other  moral  sentiments — remorse,  satis- 
faction, repentance — though  seemingly  simple  sentiments,  are 
in  reality  made  up  of  analogous  associations. 

Let  us  see  how  this  theory  would  affect  private  and  social 
life.  Mill  maintains  that  Utilitarianism  is  reconcilable  with 
the  demands  of  human  dignity,  and,  introducing  into  the 
comparison  between  pleasures  a  new  element,  namely,  that  of 
quality,  he  substitutes  for  Bentham's  moral  arithmetic  a  kind 
of  aesthetic  of  pleasure, 

"  It  would  be  absurd  that  while,  in  estimating  all  other  things,  quality 
is  considered  as  well  as  quantity,  the  estimation  of  pleasure  should  be 
supposed  to  depend  on  quantity  alone.  If  I  am  asked  what  I  mean  by 
difference  of  quality  in  pleasures,  or  what  makes  one  pleasure  more 
valuable  than  another,  merely  as  a  pleasure,  except  its  being  greater  in 
amount,  there  is  but  one  possible  answer.  Of  two  pleasures,  if  there  be 
one  to  which  all  or  almost  all  who  have  experience  of  both  give  a  decided 
preference,  irrespective  of  any  feeling  of  moral  obligation  to  prefer  it, 
that  is  the  more  desirable  pleasure.  .  .  .  Now  it  is  an  unquestionable 
fact  that  those  who  are  equally  acquainted  with  and  equally  capable  of 
appreciating  and  enjoying  both,  do  give  a  most  marked  preference  to  the 
manner  of  existence  which  employs  their  higher  faculties.  Few  human 
creatures  would  consent  to  be  changed  into  any  of  the  lower  animals,  for 
a  promise  of  the  fullest  allowance  of  the  beast's  pleasures  ;  no  intelligent 
being  would  consent  to  be  a  fool,  no  instructed  person  would  be  an 
ignoramus,  no  person  of  feeling  and  conscience  would  be  selfish  and  base. 
...  A  being  of  higher  faculties  requires  more  to  make  him  happy,  is 
capable  probably  of  much  more  acute  suffering,  and  certainly  accessible 
to  it  at  more  points  than  one  of  an  inferior  type ;  but  in  spite  of  these 
liabilities  he  can  never  really  wish  to  sink  into  what  he  feels  to  be  a 
lower  grade  of  existence"  (Ibid.  p.  11  sq.}. 


86  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Thus  some  pleasures  are  in  fact  higher  than  others,  and  if 
we  are  to  believe  Mill,  these  pleasures  are  preferred  to  others 
by  those  who  know  them,  and  should  consequently  be  preferred 
by  all  men. 

But  if  our  individual  happiness  is  to  be  our  end,  is  it  not 
to  be  feared  that  the  conflict  between  individual  interests  will 
be  detrimental  to  the  peace  of  society  ? 

"  The  utilitarian  standard,"  Mill  replies,  "  is  not  the  agent's  own 
greatest  happiness,  but  the  greatest  amount  of  happiness  altogether " 
(p.  16).  "  I  must  again  repeat  what  the  assailants  of  utilitarianism 
seldom  have  the  justice  to  acknowledge,  that  the  happiness  which  forms 
the  utilitarian  standard  of  what  is  right  in  conduct  is  not  the  agent's 
own  happiness,  but  that  of  all  concerned.  As  between  his  own  happiness 
and  that  of  others,  utilitarianism  requires  him  to  be  as  strictly  impartial 
as  a  disinterested  and  benevolent  spectator.  In  the  golden  rule  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  we  read  the  complete  spirit  of  the  ethics  of  utility " 
(Ibid.  p.  24). 

But  do  we  not  here  come  upon  the  difficulty  inherent  to 
/every  form  of  Utilitarianism  ?  In  the  name  of  what  principle 
are  we  to  demand  this  self-sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the  individual? 
How  can  disinterestedness  be  made  to  grow  out  of  interested- 
ness  ?  J.  S.  Mill  solves  this  difficulty  in  the  following  way : 
Egoism  is  fundamental  in  human  nature :  altruism  itself  is 
only  a  form  of  egoism.  Altruism  as  a  necessary  condition  of 
social  life  should  be  encouraged,  and  the  surest  way  to  do  this 
is  to  associate  it  with  self-love.  Egoism,  as  it  was  the  beginning 
of  altruism,  should  also  develop  and  complete  it.  In  the  first 
place,  let  the  idea  of  crime  be  associated  with  the  idea  of 
punishment,  through  the  legal  sanction,  and  the  fear  of  one  will 
produce  horror  of  the  other.  In  the  second  place,  "  education 
and  opinion,  which  have  so  vast  a  power  over  human 
character,  should  so  use  that  power  as  to  establish  in  the  mind 
of  every  individual  an  indissoluble  association  between  his  own 
happiness  and  the  good  of  the  whole ;  especially  between  his 
own  happiness  and  the  practice  of  such  modes  of  conduct, 
negative  and  positive,  as  regard  for  the  universal  happiness 
prescribes  "  (  Utilitarianism,  p.  25). 

Lastly,  and  above  all,  society  should  be  so  organized  as  to 
insure  a  real  harmony  between  the  interest  of  each  and  the 
interest  of  all.  In  such  a  perfect  society  no  one  could 


THE  ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES  87 

conceive  the  possibility  of  personal  happiness  as  a  consequence 
of  a  course  of  conduct  that  was  opposed  to  the  general  good. 
This  golden  age,  this  "issue  hors  de  la  civilization,"  as  Fourier 
calls  it,  is  the  ideal,  the  last  word  of  Utilitarianism,  which  can 
neither  be  logical  nor  sincere  unless  the  individual  and  the 
universal  interests  are  made  identical.  But  how  to  do  this  is 
just  the  problem. 

Herbert  Spencer  :  Inevitableness  of  Ethical  Evolution. 

Mill's  Ethics  were  founded  on  psychology,  and  in  his  system 
the  individual  and  society  are  considered  apart  from  the  rest 
of  Nature.  Herbert  Spencer,  on  the  other  hand,  treats  Ethics 
as  a  branch  of  cosmology.  Humanity  with  him  is  only  a  part 
of  a  vaster  system,  and  manifests,  in  its  own  sphere,  laws 
which  govern  the  world.  It  is  included  in  the  movement  of 
things,  and  the  evolution  of  man  is  only  a  part  of  the  universal 
evolution.  Progress  is  not  an  accident  but  a  necessity ; 
civilization,  far  from  being  a  product  of  art,  is  merely  a  phase 
of  nature  like  the  development  of  the  embryo,  or  the  opening 
of  the  flower. 

The  opponents  of  Utilitarianism  urge  against  it  the  impossi- 
bility of  reconciling  individual  interest  with  the  universal  good; 
but  by  virtue  of  the  laws  of  evolution,  given  the  fact  of  social 
life,  altruism  must  necessarily  come  out  of  egoism,  and,  owing 
to  heredity,  the  altruistic  sentiments  must  ever  predominate 
more  and  more.  Most  of  J.  S.  Mill's  psychological  analyses 
are,  Spencer  says,  correct,  but  they  must  be  completed  by  taking 
into  account  the  laws  of  evolution  and  by  considering  the  indi- 
vidual in  the  species,  and  the  species  in  nature. 

"  Pleasure,  somewhere,  at  some  time  to  some  being  or  beings,  is  an 
inexpugnable  element  of  the  conception  [of  morality].  It  is  as  much  a 
necessary  form  of  moral  intuition,  as  space  is  a  necessary  form  of 
intellectual  intuition  "  (Data  of  Ethics,  Chapter  III,  p.  46). 

Still  pleasure  is  itself  only  a  sign.  Physical  pleasure,  for 
instance,  is  the  sign  by  which  the  best  adjustment  of 
the  acts  of  the  animal  to  his  vital  functions  is  manifested 
in  consciousness.  Vital  activity  is  the  cause  of  pleasure. 
Vital  activity,  characterized  by  the  pursuit  of  an  end, 
is  the  humble  starting  point  of  human  conduct.  The  laws 
governing  the  evolution  of  life,  which  is  a  transition  from  the 


88  THE  PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

indefinite  to  the  definite,  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  hetero- 
geneous, apply  therefore  to  human  conduct.  The  moral  life  has 
a  characteristic  unity  and  coherence,  it  is  in  harmony  with 
itself,  sibi  constat;  whereas  immoral  conduct  is  incoherent,  that 
is  to  say,  it  consists  in  actions  that  are  inconsequent  and 
contradictory.  The  life  that  we  call  moral  is,  moreover,  varied 
in  its  activity.  The  life  of  a  married  man,  which  is  morally 
superior  to  that  of  the  celibate, is, besides,  more  heterogeneous  and 
complex.  So  also  is  the  life  of  a  generous  man  or  of  one  who 
takes  part  in  politics,  as  contrasted  with  that  of  the  egoist  or 
the  private  individual  (Chap.  V).  The  progress  of  morality 
is  therefore  merely  the  progress  of  the  adaptation  of  human 
life  to  its  constitutive  laws.  The  principle  of  moral  actions 
consists  exclusively  in  the  consideration  of  their  natural  and 
intrinsic  effects.  There  is  no  need  to  appeal  to  the  feeling  of 
obligation,  since,  when  moral  evolution  is  completed,  the  good  is 
realized  with  pleasure. 

"  Evidently  then,  with  complete  adaptation  to  the  social  state,  that 
element  in  the  human  consciousness  which  is  expressed  by  the  word 
obligation  will  disappear.  The  higher  actions  required  for  the  harmonious 
carrying  on  of  life  will  be  as  much  matters  of  course  as  are  those  lower 
actions  which  the  simpler  desires  prompt.  In  their  proper  times  and 
places  and  proportions,  the  moral  sentiments  will  guide  men  just  as 
spontaneously  and  adequately  as  now  do  the  sensations  "  {Ibid.  VII,  46) 
..."  The  moral  conduct  will  be  the  natural  conduct "  (Ibid.  47). 

And  as  private  morality  is  merely  the  result  of  the 
development  of  life  and  of  its  progressive  adaptation  to 
necessary  conditions,  so  also  will  a  perfect  state  of  society 
eventually  be  established  as  the  effect  solely  of  natural  laws 
and  cosmic  evolution.  That  agreement  between  individual  and 
universal  interest,  which  was  the  dream  of  Mill,  will  be 
automatically  realized.  The  pursuit  of  this  remote  ideal  is 
even  now  our  interest.  As  belonging  to  the  same  species,  we 
should  work  towards  the  foundation  of  the  best  form  of  society. 
But,  in  any  case,  it  will  come  to  be,  whether  we  desire  it  or 
not.  Good,  in  time,  will  come  out  of  the  natural  laws,  just  as 
evil  does  at  present.  Thus  egoism  is  now  the  first  law  of 
nature,  the  first  duty  is  self-preservation,  and  self-love  is  the 
highest  virtue  ;  but  when  political  economy  has  provided  for 
the  satisfaction  of  the  wants  of  all,  the  present  conflict  of 


THE   ETHICAL  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES  89 

interests  will  no  longer  be  possible.  The  joys  of  altruism  and 
self-sacrifice  will  then  alone  have  any  attraction,  and  there  will 
be  on  all  sides  rivalry  in  altruism,  each  desiring  to  bear  the 
burden  of  self-sacrifice  and  refusing  to  reap  its  advantage. 

And  so  the  ethical  ideal  of  which  we  only  dream  to-day  is  in 
process  of  being  realized  merely  through  the  action  of  the  laws 
of  nature,  for  it  is  the  consummation  of  our  evolution.  Natural- 
istic ethics  concludes  by  harmonizing  with  the  morality  of  duty; 
but  its  conclusions  are  the  result  of  a  kind  of  fatalism  like  the 
fatum  Mahometanum,  according  to  which  things  will  come  to 
pass  in  any  case  and  without  human  interference.  Nothing 
could  be  more  convenient  to  each  individual  than  this  theory, 
since  it  allows  him  to  yield  to  all  his  passions,  knowing  that 
progress  will  go  on  just  the  same,  and  that  the  supremacy 
of  good  will  be  in  any  case  effected  by  natural  forces. 

Conclusion. 

Let  us  now  see  what  conclusions  can  be  drawn  from  this 
long  account  of  the  efforts  made  by  the  human  mind  to  attain 
a  knowledge  of  human  destiny.  The  problem  is  to  discover 
the  meaning  of  life,  to  determine  the  principles  which  can 
co-ordinate  all  its  acts.  And  since  men  can  only  be  satisfied 
with  that  sovereign  good  which  includes  both  virtue  and 
happiness,  it  has  ever  been  the  object  of  moralists  to 
reconcile  these  two  terms  which  seem  irreconcilable,  but 
which  cannot  be  separated  without  violation  to  the 
intelligence.  Some  philosophers  reduce  happiness  to  virtue, 
others  teach  that  virtue  coincides  with  happiness.  But  both 
these  solutions  are  perpetually  being  contradicted  by  the  facts 
of  life.  For  man  is  not  an  isolated  and  independent  being. 
He  lives  in  the  midst  of  society,  and  is  therefore  largely 
dependent  upon  his  human  environment ;  he  lives  in  the 
bosom  of  nature,  and  his  acts  are  only  a  fragmentary  part  of 
the  immense  life  which  surrounds  him  on  all  sides,  which 
extends  far  beyond  his  sphere  of  action,  and  in  which  he  is 
nevertheless  included  and  involved. 

Thus  when  they  reflect  upon  human  life,  moralists  are  led 
to  consider  also  the  universal  life.  To  those  who  hold  that 
the  physical  depend  on  the  moral  laws,  our  present  life  is 
unintelligible  only  because  it  is  not  a  whole  but  a  part.  The 


90  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

other  school,  as  we  have  seen,  regard  the  moral  laws  as  being 
themselves  merely  physical  laws,  which  by  a  necessary  evolu- 
tion, are  in  process  of  bringing  about  human  morality,  and 
therewith  the  ideal  harmony  between  egoism  and  altruism, 
between  happiness  and  duty.  But  the  question  is,  whence  do 
physical  laws  derive  the  power  of  becoming  moral  laws  ?  By 
what  force  is  egoism  transformed  into  altruism  ?  Must  there 
not  be  some  motive  power,  which  impels  nature  to  rise  above 
herself  ?  And  assuming  that,  when  at  last  the  ideal  limit  and 
the  end  towards  which  this  progress  tends  has  been  reached, 
nature  and  virtue  will  be  one  (for  even  Kant  admits  that  in 
the  kingdom  of  ends  virtue  becomes  holiness),  still,  in  the 
interval  that  lies  between  us  and  this  ideal  state,  in  our 
present  life  in  fact,  it  is  through  the  idea  of  duty  that  each 
step  is  won,  it  is  this  notion  alone  that  prompts  the  effort 
without  which  there  can  be  no  progress. 


PART  III 
METAPHYSICS 


CHAPTER  I 
SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE 

THE  first  inclination  of  the  human  rnind  is  to  act  without 
questioning  itself.  In  the  beginning  of  mental  life  the 
distinction  between  thought  and  the  object  of  thought  is  not 
clearly  perceived.  But  man  falls  into  error,  and  the  moment 
he  becomes  conscious  of  this,  his  mistrust  is  awakened.  When 
later  he  discovers  the  contradictions  of  human  opinions,  his 
confidence  is  still  further  shaken.  Then  thought,  which  was 
at  first  directed  to  external  things,  turns  upon  itself.  And  as 
soon  as  we  begin  to  reflect  upon  our  own  thought,  to  speculate 
as  to  its  value,  we  have  reached  the  first  period  of  doubt, 
and  whether  we  are  to  get  beyond  this  stage  or  not,  we 
are  henceforward  obliged  to  face  the  most  formidable  of  all 
philosophical  problems :  Is  the  human  mind  capable  of 
attaining  certitude  ?  Have  we  the  right  to  expect  it  ? 

Every  system  of  philosophy  is  a  direct  or  an  indirect  answer 
to  this  question.  The  Dogmatists  in  divers  ways  affirm  the 
harmony  of  thought  and  its  object.  They  recognize,  it  is  true, 
the  existence  of  two  terms,  the  ego  and  the  non-ego,  matter 
and  mind,  but  they  are  terms  between  which  thought  itself 
constitutes  a  natural  connection.  The  Sceptics  deny  the  possi- 
bility of  knowledge :  they  either  oppose  the  mind  to  the 
object  which  it  strives  to  know  but  can  never  reach ;  or, 
imprisoning  thought  within  itself,  they  seek  to  discourage  it 
by  the  spectacle  of  its  own  contradictions.  Lastly,  seeing  the 
impossibility  of  vindicating  knowledge  if  we  accept  the  exist- 
ence of  an  object  opposed  to  the  mind  and  having  nothing  in 


94  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

common  with  it,  or  into  the  essence  of  which  it  is,  to  say  the 
least,  impossible  to  penetrate,  the  Idealists  derive  from  the 
subject  itself  the  object  of  knowledge,  and  admit  nothing  as 
real  but  the  intelligible.  Between  these  extreme  theories  we 
find  intermediate  solutions,  in  the  history  of  which  we  see  the 
efforts  that  have  been  made  by  the  mind  not  to  yield  its 
dominion  altogether,  while  yet  allowing  its  own  place  to 
scepticism. 

Pre-Socratic  Philosophy :  Antithesis  between  Sensible  and 
Rational  Knowledge.  The  Origin  of  Sophistry.  Sophistry  and 
the  Law  of  Contradiction. 

At  the  first  awakening  of  Greek  thought  the  question  did 
not  yet  present  itself,  so  that  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  any 
solution  of  it  was  given.  There  was,  however,  an  entirely 
instinctive,  spontaneous,  or,  so  to  speak,  unconscious  solution, 
in  which  we  recognize  the  natural  and  primitive  tendency  of 
the  human  mind,  and  which  is  implied  in  the  very  fact  that 
the  problem  did  not  exist.  The  mind  had  before  it  the  world 
of  nature,  and  did  not  yet  consider  itself  as  a  separate  thing. 
The  Pythagoreans  and  the  Eleatics,  Empedocles,  Democritus,  and 
Anaxagoras  all  attempted  an  explanation  of  nature,  but  never 
thought  of  raising  any  doubt  as  to  our  means  of  knowing  it ; 
philosophy,  at  this  first  period,  was  an  unconscious  dogmatism. 

No  doubt  this  dogmatism  was  not  without  some  reservation. 
Xenophanes  complains  of  the  difficulty  we  have  in  discovering 
truth,  and  he  adds,  that  even,  when  by  chance  we  '  come  upon ' 
(ru^ot)  the  true,  we  are  never  sure  of  possessing  it ;  <5o'/co?  §'  ejrl 
iraa-i  TeruKTat.  Nevertheless  Xenophanes  sets  forth,  with  the 
most  complete  conviction,  his  own  views  concerning  the  gods. 
We  find  the  same  complaint  and  the  same  dogmatism  in 
Empedocles  (V,  36  sq.)  and  in  Democritus  (Sext.  Emp.  Adi?. 
Math.  VII).  But  we  must  not  attribute  to  these  ancient 
philosophers  the  theories  that  would  seem  to  be  implied  in 
some  of  their  principles.  Because  Heraclitus  affirms  the  union 
of  contraries,  we  must  not,  like  Aristotle  (Metaph.  X,  c.  5), 
accuse  him  of  having  denied  the  law  of  contradiction,  and 
hence  the  possibility  of  any  certitude.  He  had  no  idea  of  the 
law  of  contradiction ;  he  had  not  even  a  clear  notion  of  what 
a  contradiction  is. 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  95 

But  even  in  the  dogmatism  of  these  early  thinkers  we  can 
discern  germs,  which,  when  developed,  were  to  give  rise  to 
Sophistry.  All  the  philosophers  after  Parmenides  and  Hera- 
clitus  arrived  at  the  opposition  between  knowledge  and  opinion, 
between  rational  and  sensible  knowledge.  The  operations  of 
thought  lead  to  results  that  are  in  evident  contradiction  with 
the  testimony  of  our  senses;  and  hence  we  must  decide 
between  the  concrete  data  and  the  abstract  products  of  thought. 
Heraclitus  and  Parmenides,  Democritus,  Bmpedocles,  and 
Anaxagoras,  agree  in  denying  the  veracity  of  our  senses  (see 
Vol.  L,  Chap.  III.  The  Senses  and  External  Perception).  Now, 
by  rational  knowledge  all  these  ancient  philosophers  understand, 
not  a  priori  data,  but  the  operations  of  thought  upon  the  data 
oFsense.  Was  it  not  evidently  a  dangerous  process  for  dogma- 
~Esm  to  establish  in  this  way  a  difference  in  value  between 
rational  and  sensible  knowledge,  without  distinguishing  their 
origin  ?  What  right  had  they  to  allow  to  a  knowledge  that 
was  derived,  an  authority  they  denied  to  primitive  knowledge  ? 

And  this  was  not  the  only  side  on  which  these  systems  laid 
themselves  open  to  the  attacks  of  the  Sceptics.     For  Greek 
philosophy  before  Socrates  was  not  only  a  dogmatism,  but  a 
physical   dogmatism.     Sensible  knowledge   was   therefore   not  i 
only  the  starting  point  of  the  whole  of  this  philosophy,  but  the  \ 
condition  of  its  existence ;  and  a  philosophy  that  was  led  by    V 
its    own    results    to    dispute    the    worth    of    this    knowledge  / 
destroyed  the  very  principles  on  which  it  rested. 

Besides  this  contradiction,  which  is  inherent  in  all  these 
systems,  there  was  another  which  resulted  from  the  disagree- 
ment between  the  systems  themselves.  Parmenides  denies 
Becoming  and  the  Many ;  Heraclitus  sees  in  nature  an  infinite 
multiplicity,  and  a  perpetual  Becoming;  Democritus  attributes 
perpetual  motion  to  his  atoms ;  Anaxagoras  finds  it  necessary  to 
introduce  an  independent  moving  cause,  namely,  intelligence. 
The  day  had  to  come  when  the  human  mind,  weary  of  these  end- 
less inquiries  into  the  nature  of  things,  would  review  the  results 
arrived  at  by  these  researches.  Then  was  suggested  the  oldest 
argument  of  Scepticism,  namely,  that  from  the  contradictions 
among  human  opinions. 

Thus  it  became  an  amusement  to  set  the  hypotheses  of  the 
different  philosophers  against  one  another.  Contradictions 


96  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

were  pointed  out  on   every  hand :    between  Parmenides  and 

himself ;    between  Parmenides  and  Heraclitus  ;  between  both 

of  them  and  common  sense.     This  clashing  of  contradictory 

ideas  and  arguments  gave  birth  to  Sophistry.      The  peculiarity 

I  of  this  form  of  scepticism  is  that  it  did  not  take  the  trouble  to 

Wek  for  any  scientific  basis.      It  did  not  invent  its  arguments, 

out  borrowed  them  from  former  systems,  and  was  content  to 

develop  them  with  a  certain  amount  of  skill.     Some  Sophists 

/started  from  thf  doctrine  of  Heraclitus,  others  from  that  of  the 

/  Eleatics,  and  from  such  opposite  points  of  view  they  all  arrived 

'    at  the  same  conclusions. 

Protagoras  takes  up  the  thesis  of  Heraclitus :  everything  is 
always  in  motion.  It  is  only  as  objects  move  towards  one 
another  and  mingle  that  they  become  something  determinate ; 
therefore  it  cannot  be  said  that  they  are  something,  or  even 
that  they  are  at  all,  but  only  that  they  are  becoming  something. 
This  theory  applies  as  well  to  our  knowledge.  We  are  a 
variable  term  standing  in  an  infinite  number  of  relations  to  other 
objects.  Things  are  to  each  man  only  what  they  appear  to  him 
to  be,  and  they  appear  to  him  such  as  they  must  appear,  given 
his  peculiar  state.  "  Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things,  of 
those  that  exist  and  of  those  that  do  not  exist."  Upon  such  a 
principle  no  knowledge  is  possible ;  there  is  no  escape  from 
a  chaos  of  contradictory  opinions. 

Gorgias  adopts  the  argument  of  the  Eleatics,  but  what  they 
asserted  only  of  multiple  and  changing  being  he  applies  to  Being 
in  general,  and  arrives  at  this  threefold  conclusion :  1st,  there 
is  nothing ;  2nd,  if  there  were  anything  we  could  not 
know  it ;  3rd,  and  if  we  could  know  it,  we  could  not  teach 
it  to  others  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  VII,  77  sq.).  This  was 
more  than  Scepticism,  it  was  absolute  Nihilism. 

Sophistry  arose  out  of  a  dim  consciousness  of  the  law  of 

\  contradiction.     Though  this  principle  was  first  formulated  by 

I  Aristotle,  the  Sophists  at  least  contributed  towards  its  discovery. 

They  had  a  notion  of  it  as  the  criterion  of  truth,  and  in  this 

way  Sophistry  was  to  a  certain  extent  legitimate  and  fruitful. 

It  showed  the  contradictions  of  the  philosophers  of  the  past, 

and  it  imposed  on  those  of  the  future  greater  clearness  and 

coherence  in  their  systems,  besides  pointing  out  the  necessity 

of  commencing  with  a  critical  inquiry  into  the  possibility  of 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  97 

knowledge.  So  far,  Sophistry  had  its  raison  d'etre  ;  where  it  was 
wrong  was  in  its  hasty  conclusions  as  to  our  radical  incapacity 
to  reach  truth.  It  brought  about  its  own  destruction  by 
violating  the  law  of  contradiction,  in  the  name  of  which  it  had 
been  founded.  Sophistry  went  beyond  doubt  and  negation  even, 
and  professed  to  maintain  at  the  same  time  the  most  contra- 
dictory propositions.  Thus  it  lost  its  hold  on  contemporary 
thought  and  provoked  a  reaction.  In  their  dim  conception  of 
the  law  of  contradiction  lay  the  real  strength  of  the  Sophists, 
and  it  was  by  means  of  this  law  that  Socrates  brought  about 
their  ruin. 

Socrates :  Concepts  the  Objects  of  Knowledge ;  Subjective 
Certainty.  Plato :  Concepts  and  Ideas ;  Objective  Certainty. 

While  attacking  the  Sophists,  Socrates  in  a  certain  sense 
carried  on  and  completed  their  work.  Philosophers  deceive  them- 
selves, and  we  ourselves  are  deceived  by  our  senses.  From  this 
the  Sophists  inferred  that  knowledge  is  impossible ;  but 
Socrates,  on  the  other  hand,  infers  only  that  it  was  impossible 
to  reach  science  by  the  road  hitherto  taken,  and  he  seeks  a 
new  method.  Sensible  knowledge  by  itself  leads  to  contra- 
dictions, because  it  only  shows  us  one  aspect  of  things,  the 
changing  and  fleeting  surface.  There  is  no  science  of  the 
particular  or  accidental.  Science  has  for  its  object  the  universal 
(Arist.  Met.  XIII,  1078  b,  17).  It  consists  precisely  in  deter- 
mining the  concept,  which  reconciles  apparent  contradictions, 
and  brings  them  to  the  unity  of  a  single  notion  (Xenophon, 
Mem.  IV,  ii,  11).  The  object  of  the  science  of  courage,  for 
instance,  is  not  a  certain  act  of  courage,  but  what  is  common  to  all 
courageous  acts ;  it  is  one  notion  which  is  in  the  mind  of  all 
men  when  they  use  the  word  courage ;  it  is  the  answer  to 
the  question,  TI  ea-Tiv  *i  avSpela  (Ibid.  IV,  vi,  15).  Thus  it  is 
on  concepts  that  Socrates  re-establishes  knowledge ;  these  for 
him  contain  the  principle  of  certainty,  e-rrt  rrjv  inroOecriv  eTravrjye 
TTCLVTU  TOV  \6yov  (Ibid.  13). 

The  criterion  of  certitude  is  that  it  puts  an  end  to  sophis- 
tical discussions,  that  it  brings  a  man  into  harmony  with  himself 
and  with  others  :  OTrore  8e  cii/ro9  TI  T<W  Ao-yco  fiie^toi  Sta  TWV 
jULaXicrTa.  Oju.oXoyovfjt.evow  CTropeveTO,  vofj-itjav  ravTtjv  aenpaXeiav 
elvat  \oyov.  "  Socrates  also  thought  that  those  who  knew  the 

II.  G 


98 

nature  of  things  severally  would  be  able  to  explain  them  to 
-others"  (Ibid.). 

Socrates  gives  a  reply  to  the  arguments  of  the  Sophists,  but 
he  does  not  attack  the  principles  of  scepticism ;  he  asks 
himself  how  we  can  reach  knowledge,  but  not  if  we  can  reach 
it.  He  does  not  question  the  possibility  of  arriving  at  cer- 
tainty, but  is  only  concerned  in  defining  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  to  be  sought.  His  philosophy  implies  a  full 
belief  in  the  possibility  of  knowledge,  a  belief  which  was  both 
instinctive  and  profound,  and  which  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to 
justify.  With  him,  however,  the  conception  we  should  form  of 
knowledge  becomes  the  first  problem  in  philosophy.  But  his 
solution  remained  incomplete.  Knowledge  rests  on  concepts ; 
this  is  enough  for  subjective,  but  not  for  objective  certainty. 
Are  things  in  themselves  such  as  our  concepts  represent  them 
to  be  ?  This  postulate  of  which  Socrates  had  not  recognized 
the  necessity  was  affirmed  by  Plato. 

It  is  owing  to  Plato  that  certitude  acquired  an  objective 
value.  Our  concepts  exist  outside  ourselves.  The  true  reality 
dwells  in  our  objectified  concepts,  in  notions,  in  the  Ideas.  Our 
concepts  are,  then,  not  only  the  principles  of  knowledge,  but  of 
existence  itself.  The  ideal  theory  is  a  theory  of  certainty.  To 
the  question,  how  our  concepts  can  be  at  once  the  types  and 
images  of  reality,  Plato  replies  by  his  theory  of  innate  ideas. 
It  is  evidently  not  our  concepts  themselves,  considered  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  individual,  that  determine  reality.  The  Ideas, 
the  principles  of  being,  are  not  general  ideas  abstracted  from  the 
manifold  phenomena  (Phil.  16c,  Eep.  596  a),  but  they  are  dis- 
covered by  an  immediate  intuition  which  is  not  the  result  of 
the  mere  elaboration  of  experience,  but  the  ultimate  term  of  a 
dialectic  method  (Rep.  Bk.  VII).  The  question  remains,  how  does 
our  soul  originally  obtain  these  concepts,  which  are  at  once  the 
types  and  the  images  of  reality  ?  To  this  question  Plato 
answers  by  his  theory  of  Reminiscence  (Phaedrus,  246  sq.). 

We  must  observe  that  the  possibility  of  knowledge  is  not  a 
subject  of  doubt  to  Plato  any  more  than  to  Socrates.  What 
he  discusses  is  the  conception  that  should  be  formed  of  true 
knowledge,  never  its  possibility.  The  possibility  of  knowledge 
is  in  fact  the  principle  on  which  the  whole  ideal  theory  de- 
pends. That  knowledge  is  possible,  and  that  true  knowledge 


SCEPTICISM   AND  CEETITUDE  99 

is  founded  on  concepts,  was  the  postulate  of  Socrates,  and  Plato 
deduces  its  logical  consequences.  To  say  that  concepts  alone 
constitute  true  knowledge,  or  represent  that  which  is,  is 
to  say  that  our  concepts  correspond  to  objective  reality ;  in 
other  words,  what  is  intelligible  exists,  what  is  not  intelligible 
does  not  exist,  and  reality  is  in  direct  proportion  to  intelli- 
gibility. 

Aristotle :  Impossibility  of  Proving  Everything ;  Intuitive 
Certainty  of  the  Principles  of  Knowledge. 

Aristotle  does  not,  any  more  than  his  predecessors,  question 
the  possibility  of  knowledge.  For  him  as  for  Plato  knowledge 
deals  with  concepts,  and  is  a  certain  knowledge  of  that  which 
is  general  and  universal  TO  KaOoXov.  So  full  was  the  con- 
fidence of  these  philosophers  in  the  validity  of  thought,  that 
Aristotle,  who  expressly  attacks  the  Sceptics,  does  not  even 
refer  to  the  problem  of  certainty. 

Science  is  the  knowledge  of  the  universal,  and  according  to 
Aristotle  the  universal  exists  only  through  the  particular.  It 
is  given  to  us  in  sensible  reality  (De  Anirna,  III,  viii,  432  a,  2), 
whence  it  must  be  abstracted  ;  and  this  is  the  function  of 
induction.  When  once  the  universal  is  known,  if  our  induction 
has  not  misled  us,  we  should  be  able  to  deduce  the  particular 
from  it.  True  knowledge  is  therefore  demonstrative,  and 
demonstration  is  the  criterion  of  certainty.  But  will  this 
criterion  always  be  necessary  ?  Demonstration  is  a  syllogism 
starting  from  established  premisses :  will  these  premisses 
themselves  always  require  to  be  proved  ?  To  prove  everything 
is  impossible  (Met.  1006  a,  9),  for  we  should  have  to  go  on  to 
infinity  (etV  ajreipov  yap  OLV  /SdSt'tov}.  The  series  of  inter- 
mediate terms  is  not  infinite,  and  where  these  intermediate 
terms  end  there  appears  an  immediate  knowledge,  the 
knowledge  of  principles.  These  principles  have  the  double 
characteristic  of  being  incapable  of  proof  and  of  not  requiring 
proof  (An.  Post.  II,  100  b,  8).  They  are  known  with  a 
greater  certainty  than  anything  that  can  be  deduced  from 
them.  They  are  the  source  of  the  certainty  of  which 
deduction  is  only  the  channel.  The  faculty  by  which  they 
are  known  is  reason  (vovs),  and  according  to  Aristotle  this 
faculty  never  deceives  us  (De  Anima,  429  a,  15-27  ;  430  a,  2). 


100 

This  theory  of  Aristotle  is  the  best  answer  to  a  famous 
argument  of  the  Sceptics — the  impossibility  of  proving  every- 
thing (An.  Post.  I,  3).  But  it  pre-supposes  precisely  that  which 
scepticism  called  in  question,  namely,  the  possibility  of 
knowledge.  If  everything  had  to  be  proved,  says  Aristotle, 
knowledge  would  be  impossible ;  what  do  I  care,  the  Sceptic 
replies,  it  is  precisely  the  possibility  of  knowledge  that  I 
dispute,  and  you  answer  me  by  starting  from  this  assumption 
just  as  if  it  were  a  necessary  principle.  In  fact,  Aristotle's 
whole  doctrine  is  inspired  by  the  idea  that  certainty  is  and 
must  be  possible.  He  merely  affirms  the  infallibility  of  our 
reason,  and  this  is  indeed  all  that  can  be  done  by  those  who 
wish  to  resist  scepticism.  If  we  are  to  find  certainty,  we 
must  first  of  all  believe  in  it. 

Aristotle  was  not  aware  of  the  difficulty  of  his  position,  he 
was  aware  only  of  its  strength,  for  he  had  that  natural  faith 
which  is  lacking  in  the  sceptic.  In  order  to  defend  the 
principle  of  contradiction,  he  shows  that  those  who  deny  it 
condemn  themselves  to  universal  scepticism  (Met.  1005  b,  11  sq.). 
To  him,  as  to  all  strong  minds,  doubt  is  repugnant ;  he  has 
faith  in  the  veracity  of  his  own  faculties.  He  shows  that 
scepticism  is  contradictory  and  refutes  itself  in  practical  life 
(Met.  1005  b,  25).  He  attacks  it  with  all  the  scorn  of  one  who 
is  convinced  of  the  soundness  of  his  own  reasons.  If  his  mind, 
he  says  of  the  sceptic,  holds  to  nothing,  if  he  at  the  same  time 
believes  and  does  not  believe  what  he  says,  in  what  does  such 
a  man  differ  from  a  vegetable  ?  ecrrt  S'  airoSei^ai  eXe-y/crt/cw? 

KCU    TTCpi    TOVTOV     OTl   CtSvvaTOV    O.V    /J.OVOV    Tl   \eyfl   6    a/UI.(hl<T/3t]T(Ji)V. 

av  Se  /jLyOev,  ye\oiov  TO  Yr^Telv  \6yov  Trpos  TOV  /uyOevos  eyovTa 
\6yov,  f)  /ut]  e'^er  0/0.0109  yap  (pvTU)  6  TOIOVTOS  y  TOIOVTOS  %8t]. 
Finally,  he  says,  like  Spinoza,  that  the  role  of  the  sceptic 
is  to  be  dumb :  ov  TW  TOIOVTW  Xo-yo?,  OUT'  airy  irpos  CIVTOV, 
OUTC  TTjOo?  aXXov  (Ibid.). 

After  Aristotle  the  Problem  of  Certainty  is  recognized. 
Stoicism  :  Subjective  Criterion  ;  Tension  of  the  Soul.  Illogical 
Dogmatism  of  Epicures. 

After  Aristotle  the  speculative  interest  was  made  sub- 
ordinate to  the  practical.  The  human  intellect,  having  grown 
feeble,  began  to  doubt  itself,  and  the  possibility  of  knowledge 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  101 

appeared  as  a  problem  demanding  solution.  To  discover  an 
immutable  rule  of  life  and  a  sure  measure  of  certainty  and 
knowledge  were  the  two  questions  with  which  henceforward 
philosophy  was  to  concern  itself  (Ravaisson,  M&t.  d'Arist. 
Vol.  II,  p.  65). 

But  knowledge  was  only  a  means  to  happiness  and 
Logic  prepared  the  way  for  Ethics  ;  and  thus  the  speculative 
postulate  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  became  a  practical  postulate. 
It  remained  to  be  seen  whether  the  practical  interest  really 
did  stand  in  need  of  a  scientific  conception.  The  Sceptics 
tlenied  this,  and  there  being  no  longer  any  justification  or 
motive  for  it,  science  was  declared  to  be  impossible  as  well  as 
useless. 

Notwithstanding  its  dogmatic  character,  Stoicism  already 
carried  within  it  the  germ  of  scepticism.  It  already  discussed 
intellectual  certainty,  and,  if  it  furnished  a  foundation  for  it, 
the  foundation  was  too  weak  to  resist  the  pressing  attacks 
of  the  sceptics.  This  weakness  is  a  result  of  the  gross 
materialism  which  was  combined  in  the  Stoic  system  with 
much  that  was  noble  and  true. 

For  the  Stoics  nothing  was  real  that  was  not  a  body,  therefore  nothing 
existed  that  could  be  known  otherwise  than  by  the  senses.  Sensible  percep- 
tion, however,  was  not  purely  passive  :  it  followed  the  impression  made  * 
by  the  object  on  the  soul,  and  was  distinguished  from  it.  Knowledge 
begins  with  the  consent  we  give  to  a  representation  when  we  refer  it  to 
an  object  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  VIII,  397).  But  what  is  it  that  deter- 
mines this  assent  ?  In  other  words,  by  what  signs  do  we  recognize  that  a 
representation  is  a  true  one  ?  There  are  representations  which  impose 
themselves  on  us  with  such  force  that  we  cannot  refuse  our  assent  to 
them,  <£av7acriai  /caraA^TTTtKat  (D.L.  vn,  46).  These  representations 
are  in  conformity  with  the  reality  and  express  the  peculiar  qualities 
(iSioj/AaTa)  which  distinguish  an  object  from  all  others  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv. 
Math.  VII,  250  sq.).  For  the  Stoics  maintain,  as  did  Leibnitz  later,  that 
there  are  not  two  things  in  nature  perfectly  alike  ;  and  from  this  they 
conclude  "that  there  is,  for  everything,  in  every  circumstance,  one  single 
representation  which  is  infallible  and  truly  comprehensive,  and  the  sole 
object  of  the  assent  of  the  wise  man"  (Ravaisson,  Metaph.  d'Arist.).  The 
real  object  is  recognized  by  the  impression,  or  shock  ((^avracrta  lvapyi]<s 
KCU  TrAiy/cTiKr/),  which  constitutes  the  evidence  of  its  reality.  But  by  what 
means  do  we  measure  the  shock,  the  effect  of  the  tension,  which  is  the 
special  quality  perceived  ?  By  the  energy  of  the  inner  force,  the  tension 
of  the  perceiving  soul.  Thus  we  are  brought  back  from  the  passivity  of 


102  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

the  soul  on  which  the  impression  is  made,  to  the  peculiar  activity  by 
which  it  apprehends  the  object  perceived.  "  Mem  naturalem  vim  habet 
quam  intend.it  ad  ea  quibus  movetur"  (Cic.  Acad.  II,  10). 

Truth  has  its  source  in  the  force  of  the  immediate  conviction 
which  the  (pavTacria  KaraA>/7rn/a/  carries  with  it.  This  force 
belongs  originally  to  internal  and  external  perceptions,  and 
also  to  the  universal  concepts,  TrpoXytyeis,  KOIVCU  evvoiai,  which 
are  unconsciously  abstracted  from  them  by  the  spontaneous 
activity  of  thought.  In  this  way  the  Stoics  could  say  that 
the  criteria  of  the  true  are  the  (pavTao-ia  KaraXriTTTiKr]  and 
the  TrpoXrj^ris  (D.L.  vn,  54).  On  the  other  hand  the  exact- 
ness of  the  methodically  formed  concepts  has  to  be  proved 
by  scientific  demonstration.  Yet,  when  once  they  are  proved,  — 
and  this  is  an  insoluble  contradiction  in  the  Stoic  system,  —  they 
carry  with  them  a  certainty,  not  only  equal  but  superior  to 
the  certainty  of  perceptions.  If  all  reality  is  corporeal  or 
individual,  if  every  concept  is  only  an  abstraction,  how  could 
there  be  more  truth  in  the  thought  of  what  is  not  real,  than 
in  the  conception  of  the  corporeal,  which  is  reality  itself  ?  Yet 
Zeno  compared  a  simple  act  of  perception  to  the  open  hand, 
judgment  to  the  closed  hand,  the  concept  to  the  fist,  knowledge 
to  the  fist  grasped  by  the  other  hand.  The  whole  difference 
•  between  these  four  forms  of  knowledge  lies,  as  we  see,  in 
the  greater  or  less  force  of  the  conviction.  Certitude  varies 
with  the  tension  of  the  mind  ;  there  are  in  it  differences 
of  degree,  but  not  of  nature.  In  fact,  the  real  criterion 
for  the  Stoics  was  neither  the  <pavTa<rta  KaraXrfTrriKYi  nor 
the  7rpo\t]^/i$,  but  the  force  of  conviction,  the  tension  of 
the  mind,  et/  rovu>  KOI  Svvd/u,ei  (Stob.  Edog.  II,  128)  —  an 
entirely  subjective  criterion.  The  argument  which  recurs 
perpetually  in  their  lengthy  polemics  against  scepticism 
is  the  practical  interest,  the  impotence  of  the  man  who 
doubts,  the  necessity  of  affirmation  in  practical  life  (Pint. 
De  Stoic  repugn.  47,  12  :  TO  /uu'jre  -Trpa-rreiv  /ur/re  6p/u.av 


The  Epicureans,  like  the  Stoics,  make  the  theory  of  know- 
ledge subordinate  to  ethics.  The  sensualistic  dogmatism  of 
Epicurus  rests  on  a  practical  postulate,  on  the  need  of 
a  firmly  established  conviction  in  order  to  avoid  the  uncer- 
tainties of  a  life  left  to  chance.  Since  his  ethical  system  rests 


SCEPTICISM  AND   CERTITUDE  103- 

altogether  on  the  sensations   of   pleasure  and  pain,  sensation 
must  be  for  him  the  criterion  of  truth. 

"  There  were,"  Epicurus  said,  "  three  criteria,  the  senses,  the  anticipa- 
tions or  primary  notions,  and  the  passions  :  KpiT^pca.  rrjs  ctA^eias  tiVat 
ras  aicr^o-ets  /ecu  rets  TT/aoAry^ei?  KGU  ra  iraOrj"  (D.L.  X,  31).  Through 
the  passions  we  only  know  the  pleasure  and  pain  caused  in  us  by  things. 
They  are  the  basis  of  practical  philosophy.  Anticipation,  that  by  which 
we  anticipate  or  divine  sensation,  is  the  impress  (TUTTOS,  D.L.  x,  33)  left  by  a 
frequently  repeated  sensation.  One  may  say  then  that,  for  Epicurus,  in 
the  last  resort,  the  only  criterion  of  truth  and  the  principle  of  all  specula- 
tive life  was  sensation.  If  you  resist  all  the  senses  you  will  not  even  have 
anything  left  to  which  you  can  refer  (D.L.  x,  46).  The  only  way  of 
escaping  from  absolute  doubt  is  to  admit  that  sensation  is  always  veracious. 
Where  we  think  to  find  errors  of  sense  there  are  only  errors  of  judgment. 
How  can  the  testimony  of  sense  be  contradicted  1  Is  it  by  reason  1  but 
rational  knowledge  is  derived  from  sensible  knowledge.  Do  our  senses 
contradict  one  another  ?  No  ;  for  each  one  of  them  has,  in  its  own 
domain,  an  absolute  validity.  The  different  kinds  of  perceptions  do  not 
refer  to  the  same  thing  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  VII,  203,  sq.).  Thus 
sensation  itself  is  evidence  (fvapyeia).  Error  is  possible  only  when  we 
go  beyond  sensation.  Sensation  is  the  criterion  of  the  abstract  concepts 
which  are  valid  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  confirmed  by  sensation,  and  in 
some  cases  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  not  contradicted  by  it  (D.L.  x,  33). 

Epicurus  does  not  seem  to  have  seen  the  difficulties  inherent 
in  this  theory.  All  sensations  as  such  are  true ;  and  this  being 
the  case,  we  must  return  to  the  argument  of  Protagoras. 
Epicurus  tries  to  avoid  this  sceptical  inference  by  his  theory  of 
the  idola.  Our  senses  are  affected,  not  by  the  objects  themselves,, 
but  by  the  images,  the  simulacra,  which  emanate  from  them, 
Now  there  are  many  of  these  images,  and  they  may,  moreover, 
become  altered  during  the  passage  from  the  object  to  the  sense 
which  they  affect.  If,  therefore,  the  same  object  appears  diffe- 
rent to  different  individuals  it  is  not  because  the  sensation  is- 
deceptive,  but  because  the  individuals  have  in  reality  perceived 
different  objects,  since  they  have  been  affected  by  different 
images. 

But  this  is  not  a  solution  ;  it  merely  puts  the  difficulty 
a  step  further  back.  How  is  the  faithful  image  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  image  that  does  not  correspond  to  the 
object  1  We  have  outside  us,  as  it  were,  two  worlds  which  do 
not  mingle  though  one  is  derived  from  the  other — the  world  of 


104  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

images,  the  world  of  real  objects.  We  only  know  the  former 
through  perception,  and,  as  there  is  no  constant  relation 
between  them,  the  latter  remains  unknowable.  Thus  science 
is  deprived  of  all  objective  value ;  and  the  sensualistic 
subjectivity  in  which  the  theory  of  Epicurus  culminates  is 
not  far  removed  from  the  scepticism  of  Pyrrho. 

Pyrrho' s  Radical  Scepticism.  The  new  Academy:  Criticism 
of  the  Stoic  Dogmatism.  Probabilism.  Carneades :  Theory  of 
Degrees  of  Probability. 

At  this  period  of  Greek  philosophy  everything  seemed 
to  conduce  to  scepticism.  Even  those  who  attacked  it 
fostered  it  at  the  same  time  by  their  empiricism.  They 
questioned  the  possibility  of  knowledge,  and  could  find  no 
better  foundation  for  it  than  a  practical  postulate.  If  this 
postulate  were  overturned,  if  it  were  maintained  that  our  prac- 
tical interests  do  not  depend  upon  knowledge,  that,  on  the 
contrary,  these  interests  would  be  better  served  by  abandoning 
a  knowledge  that  is,  in  any  case,  unattainable,  then  we  should 
have  a  complete  scepticism ;  tnd  there  would  be  nothing  left 
to  dogmatism  wherewith  to  oppose  it.  It  was  the  leading  idea 
of  Pyrrho  to  make  the  denial  of  knowledge  the  condition  of  the 
Sovereign  Good. 

Pyrrho  lays  down  three  propositions :  1st,  that  we  can  know 
nothing  of  the  nature  of  things ;  2nd,  that  we  must  con- 
sequently suspend  our  judgment  concerning  them;  3rd,  that 
the  result  of  this  suspension  is  ctTctpa^ia,  which  is  at  once 
virtue  and  happiness. 

We  can  know  nothing  of  the  nature  of  things,  for  how  could  we 
obtain  certain  knowledge  ?  Through  our  senses  ?  Through  them  we 
know  things,  not  as  they  are  in  themselves,  but  as  they  appear  to  us. 
Through  reason  ?  But  reason,  even  where  it  seems  to  have  most 
authority,  that  is,  in  the  moral  sphere,  rests  on  mere  custom  and  habit 
(D.L.  ix,  61).  All  we  can  do  is  to  suspend  our  judgment  ;  ^re^eiv  r>)i/ 
o-vyKaTadfcriv  ;  a  thing  is  not  more  this  than  that,  ov8fv  /zaAAov  (D.L. 
ix,  74).  The  doubt  of  the  Sceptics  does  not  refer  to  appearances,  to 
phenomena  (<^aivop.f.va\  which  are  evident  (evapyrj),  but  to  the  reality 
which  we  are  incapable  of  attaining  (D.L.  ix,  103).  "  But  what  is 
evidently  seen  prevails  wherever  it  may  be,"  says  Timon  (A p.  D.L.  ix, 
105).  The  moment  we  try  to  get  beyond  it  we  find  ourselves  confronted 
by  contradictory  and  equipollent  reasons  which  prevent  all  affirmation 


SCEPTICISM    AND  CERTITUDE  105 

(D.L.  ix,  106).  In  practical  life  apathy  and  indifference  (d8ia(f>opia, 
uTraOfia)  correspond  to  doubt  (eVo^,  a^acria)  in  theoretical  life  (Aristo- 
cles  ap.  Euseb.  Praep.  Evang.  XIV,  13,  2).  Cicero  speaks  of  Pyrrho  as  of 
one  who  was  before  all  things  a  moralist  (De  Fin.  VII,  16,  43).  To  him 
(Pyrrho)  scepticism  was  not  an  end  but  a  means.  He  cared  nothing  for  dia- 
lectics or  subtle  discussions  :  it  was  solely  with  the  moral  life  that  he  was 
occupied.  "As  Pyrrho  had  left  a  great  example,  as  he  was  venerated 
almost  as  much  as  Socrates,  the  Sceptics  thought  it  well,  when  their 
doctrine  had  been  completely  elaborated,  to  invoke  his  name,  and  to  place 
themselves  as  it  were  under  his  patronage.  It  was  a  good  answer  to  those 
who  so  often  accused  him  of  abolishing  virtue  and  making  life  impossible. 
In  short,  Pyrrho  was  a  kind  of  saint  under  whose  patronage  Scepticism 
placed  itself ;  but  the  father  of  Pyrrhonism  appears  to  have  been  very 
little  of  a  Pyrrhonian  "  (Brochard,  Revue  philosopkique,  May,  1885). 

Scepticism  was  taught  by  Pyrrho  as  an  introduction  to 
Ethics  ,  the  Academy  taught  it  for  its  own  sake,  and  com- 
menced against  the  Stoic  dogmatism  a  polemic  in  which,  with 
an  interval  of  nearly  a  century  between  them,  Arcesilaus  took 
part  against  Zeno,  and  Carneades  against  Chrysippus. 

Arcesilaus  proposes  his  theory  as  a  refutation  of  the  Stoic 
dogmatism.  He  appears  to  regard  the  doctrine  of  <pavTa<ria 
AcaraX^TTTt/o/  as  the  only  possible  theory  of  knowledge,  and  by 
proving  it  to  be  false  he  believes  that  he  has  proved  the 
impossibility  of  knowledge.  The  Stoic  criterion  was  the  force 
of  conviction  which  the  (pavraa-ia  /caTaA»?7rT//a/  carries  with  it. 
Arcesilaus  replies  that  this  conviction  may  belong  to  a  false  as 
well  as  to  a  true  perception,  nullum  tale  esse  visum  a  vero  ut 
non  ejusmodi  etiam  afalso possit  (Cic.  Acad.  II,  24,  77).  Since  all 
our  cognitions  have  their  origin  in  the  (^avracria  KaTaXrjTniKrj, 
when  the  latter  disappears  science  disappears  also,  and  the 
philosopher  cannot  give  his  assent  to  nothing.  To  the  Stoics' 
objection  that  scepticism  makes  life  impossible,  Arcesilaus 
replies  that  probability  is  the  only  rule  of  practical  life.  He 
taught  the  doctrine  of  Probabilism. 

A  century  after  Arcesilaus  the  scepticism  of  the  Academy 
had  in  Carneades  its  most  famous  representative.  There  is 
abundant  testimony  as  to  the  acuteness  and  eloquence  of  this 
philosopher,  and  the  admiration  he  inspired  not  only  in  his 
disciples  but  in  his  antagonists  (Cic.  De  Orat.  II,  38,  161  ;  D.L. 
iv,  62,  63).  This  great  thinker  not  only  gave  a  firmer  basis  to  the 
negative  side  of  scepticism,  he  also  defined  the  resources  which 


106  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

this  theory  allows  to  the  human  mind.  He  gave  precision  to 
the  doctrine  of  probability,  and  indicated  its  conditions  and 
different  degrees.  He  was  the  great  teacher  of  ancient 
scepticism. 

Carneades  does  not  confine  himself  to  refuting  the  Stoic 
doctrines,  he  also  attacks  those  of  all  the  previous  philosophers 
(Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  VII,  159).  He  denies  both  the  formal 
possibility  and  the  results  of  science.  x 

Knowledge  is  impossible,  for  there  is,  in  truth,  no  kind  of  conviction 
which  has  not  at  some  time  or  another  proved  false,  or  which  consequently 
may  be  regarded  as  the  guarantee  of  the  possession  of  truth  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv. 
Math.  VII,  159).  An  examination  of  our  mental  representations  leads 
to  the  same  conclusion.  These  representations  are  merely  subjective 
modifications,  and  before  they  could  provide  the  elements  of  knowledge  it 
would  be  necessary  that  in  manifesting  themselves  to  us  they  should  at 
the  same  time  reveal  the  external  objects  which  are  their  cause  (Ibid. 
160  sq.).  And  how  many  are  the  errors  of  the  senses  which  might  be 
mentioned  !  There  might  still  remain  the  possibility  of  establishing  a 
criterion  in  order  to  distinguish  the  true  perceptions  from  the  false  ;  but 
how  could  this  be  done  seeing  that  all  have  the  same  origin  and  bear  the 
same  mark  ?  Think  of  the  images  we  see  in  dreams,  of  the  madman's 
hallucinations  (Ibid. ;  Cic.  Acad.  II,  15,  47).  Many  false  perceptions  are  so 
like  the  true  as  to  be  indistinguishable  from  them.  There  are  objects 
which  are  so  similar  that  we  confound  them  (for  instance,  two  eggs)  :  this 
is  the  denial  of  the  Stoic  principle  of  indiscernibles  (Ibid.  164 ;  Cic.  Acad. 
II,  13,  40).  Moreover,  the  transition  from  the  true  to  the  false  usually 
takes  place  by  insensible  degrees,  and  consequently  the  distinction 
between  them  escapes  us.  Carneades  applies  this  observation  not  only  to 
sensations,  but  to  the  concepts  of  our  understanding.  His  triumph  was 
most  complete  when  he  applied  it  to  the  quantitative  notions,  reviving  the 
Sorites,  and  all  the  Megaric  logical  subtleties  (Ibid.  416  sq.  ;  Cic. 
Acad.  II,  29,  92  sq.).  To  sum  up,  knowledge  is  impossible  because  we 
have  no  criterion,  because  error  carries  with  it  the  same  conviction  as 
truth. 

As  regards  the  results  of  knowledge,  the  criticisms  of 
Carneades  were  principally  directed  against  the  views  of  the 
Stoics.  He  refuted,  by  means  of  arguments  which  are  still 
current,  the  Stoic  teleology  (Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  Ill,  26,  65-70), 
the  idea  of  a  divine  personality  (Cic.  Ibid.  Ill,  13,  32  sq.-; 
Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  IX,  139  sq.},  and  intelligence  (Sext. 
Emp.  Adv.  Math.  IX,  152,  175),  the  proof  of  the  existence  of 
God  by  general  consent  (Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  Ill,  4,  11),  the  theory 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  107 

of  determinism  (Cic.  De  Fato,  11,  23  sq.),  and  lastly,  without  much 
difficulty,  divination,  and  the  other  ancient  superstitions  (Cic. 
De  Divinitat.  I,  II). 

From  this  twofold  criticism  of  dogmatism  Carneades  con- 
cludes that  it  is  impossible  to  know  anything.  The  wise  man 
affirms  nothing,  not  even  that  he  knows  nothing  (Cic.  Acad. 
II,  9,  28). 

All  our  representations  have  by  no  means  the  same  value.  We  are 
obliged  to  act,  and  must  therefore  attribute  to  certain  representations  an 
authority  sufficient  to  allow  of  our  being  determined  by  them.  We  must 
attribute  to  them,  not  indeed  truth,  which  is  beyond  our  grasp,  but  at 
least  the  appearance  of  truth.  TO  aXrjOfj  (f>aiv€<r6at.  e/jLffxxria.  (appearance), 
TTitfavorr/s  (probability).  Truth  implies  agreement  with  the  object  and 
does  not  depend  on  ourselves.  We  can  only  judge  of  that  which  appears 
to  us  to  be  true  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv.  Math.  XII,  166  sq.).  In  this  adherence 
or  belief  there  are  degrees  which  correspond  to  the  degrees  of  probability. 
A  representation  which  appears  to  be  true  when  taken  by  itself,  but  is 
not  in  agreement  with  the  rest  of  our  representations,  has  only  the  lowest 
degree  of  probability  (Ibid.  173).  To  the  degree  immediately  above  this 
belongs  a  representation  whose  probability  is  confirmed  by  its  agree- 
ment with  concomitant  representations  (Ibid.  176)  ;  the  highest  degree 
of  probability  is  reached  when  these  concomitant  representations  are 
themselves  corroborated  in  the  same  manner  (Ibid.  182)  ;  and  since  the 
series  of  possible  experiences  is  indefinite,  we  may  in  this  way  get 
nearer  and  nearer  to  certainty  without  ever  attaining  it.  A  representa- 
tion belonging  to  the  first  degree  is  merely  probable,  but  when  it  belongs  to 
the  second  it  has  the  additional  advantage  of  not  being  contradicted.  In 
the  third  degree  the  representation  is  not  only  not  contradicted,  it  has 
also  been  tested,  is  at  once  TriOavr]  KCU  aTrfpt'o-Trao-ros  KCU  Trepna8ev/j.€vr) 
(Ibid.  184).  Thus  the  further  we  carry  our  inquiries  the  more  probable  is 
our  knowledge,  and  the  nearer  we  get  to  certainty.  Carneades  also  applies 
this  theory  to  ethical  life.  He  does  not  pronounce  on  the  question  of  the 
sovereign  good,  but  merely  determines  the  relative  value  of  different 
kinds  of  good.  In  ethics  the  theory  of  irporj-y(j.€va  or  desirable  things, 
corresponds  to  the  theory  of  probability. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  the  philosophical  value  of  this 
theory.  If  we  are  denied  absolute  certainty,  at  least  all  effort 
of  the  mind  is  not  stultified,  it  still  has  some  meaning,  some 
significance ;  the  mind  may  adhere  freely  to  a  probability 
which  is  brought  nearer  and  nearer  to  certainty  by  the  mutual 
agreement  of  representations  and  ideas  within  the  unity  of  a 
coherent  thought. 


108  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Eclecticism:  Evidence  the  Criterion  of  Truth.  Antiochus. 
Cicero. 

The  theory  of  probability  prepared  the  way  for  a  return  to 
dogmatism.  The  Sceptics  had  rejected  all  the  philosophic 
systems  as  false,  the  Eclectics  admitted  that  not  one  of  them 
was  true ;  but,  advancing  a  step  further  in  the  direction 
marked  out  by  Carneades,  they  thought  that  from  all  the 
systems  taken  together,  they  might  be  able  to  find  the  truth, 
provided  these  systems  were  critically  examined.  What  was  to 
be  the  criterion  of  truth  ?  If  \ve  are  to  depend  on  the  proposi- 
tions in  which  philosophers  agree,  we  should  only  arrive  at  very 
vague  and  general  notions.  Shall  we  fall  back  on  the  practical 
value  of  doctrines  ?  But  what  is  the  destiny  of  man  ?  Even 
this  is  one  of  the  problems  concerning  which  philosophers  are 
most  divided ;  so  that  the  only  measure  of  truth  left  is 
individual  consciousness.  But  here  again  the  Eclectics  only 
develop  the  theory  of  Carneades,  who,  for  truth  in  itself, 
substituted  that  which  appears  to  be  true.  They  accept  with 
the  Sceptics  the  subjective  character  of  evidence,  but  they 
affirm  that  man  possesses  as  it  were  a  measure  of  the  true  and 
the  false,  that  he  may  fully  trust  to  what  is  immediately 
given  in  his  consciousness,  to  what  appears  to  him  as  certain, 
apart  from  scientific  inquiry.  Eclecticism  is  the  common-sense 
school  of  antiquity.  As  Zeller  remarks,  the  Eclectics  were  to 
the  Sceptics  who  went  before  them  what  in  modern  times  the 
Scottish  school  has  been  to  Hume. 

It  was  very  natural  that  the  first  appearance  of  eclecticism  should 
have  been  in  the  Academy.  The  theory  of  Philo  of  Larissa,  the  pupil  and 
successor  of  Clitomachus,  who  was  himself  a  disciple  of  Carneades,  is 
somewhat  vague.  He  professes  to  remain  faithful  to  the  spirit  of  his 
masters,  maintaining  that  there  is  no  sure  sign  of  the  true  and  the  false 
(Acad.  II,  6,  18),  nevertheless  he  does  not  deny  the  possibility  of  cer- 
tainty. We  must,  he  says,  distinguish  inter  incertum  et  id  quod  percipi 
non possit  (Cic.  Acad.  II,  10,  32).  There  is  a  certainty  which  is  founded 
on  evidence,  and  there  are  truths  impressed  on  our  minds  which  are 
evident  and  which  yet  cannot  be  perceived  and  comprehended  as  the  Stoics 
supposed  ;  esse  aliquid  perspicui  (tVapyes)  verum  illud  quidem  impressum 
in  animo  atque  mente,  neque  tamen  id  percipi  ac  comprehendi posse  (Acad. 
II,  11,  34). 

In  order  to  attain  certitude  it  was  necessary  to  break 
altogether  from  the  theory  of  Carneades,  and  this  was  done 


SCEPTICISM   AND  CERTITUDE  109- 

by  Antiochus  of  Ascalon.  His  eclectic  dogmatism  was  founded 
on  the  postulate  which  served  as  basis  to  the  Stoic  dogmatism, 
namely,  on  the  necessity  of  fixed  opinions  in  order  to  act. 
Probability  alone  is  not  enough  for  practical  life,  and  even 
supposing  it  were  enough,  the  principles  of  Carneades  would 
destroy  it.  Probability  and  certainty  disappear  together.  If 
the  true  as  such  cannot  be  known,  how  can  anything  have 
the  appearance  to  us  of  being  true  ?  (Cic.  Acad.  II,  11,  33). 

Antiochus,  indeed,  reasserts  the  possibility  of  certainty.  He  examines 
and  refutes  Carneades'  criticisms.  As  regards  the  senses  his  arguments  re- 
solve themselves  into  the  following  :  because  our  senses  sometimes  deceive 
us,  we  have  no  right  to  infer  that  they  deceive  us  always  (Cic.  Acad.  II, 
7,  19).  As  against  general  concepts,  Carneades  used  to  bring  forward  the 
illusions  of  dreams  or  of  madness.  But  these  do  not  bear  the  evidence 
peculiar  to  true  concepts  (Ibid.  II,  15,  47).  Carneades  tried  to  reduce 
these  concepts  to  nothing  by  such  arguments  as  the  Sorites,  but  if  two 
things  resemble  one  another  it  does  not  follow  that  they  are  indis- 
tinguishable. The  only  conclusion  is  that  truth  is  difficult  to  discover. 
Finally,  scepticism  is  self-contradictory.  The  Sceptic  proceeds  by  de- 
finitions and  reasonings,  yet  he  denies  that  there  is  any  difference 
Jbetween  error  and  .  truth  ;  he  affirms  that  there  are  representations 
which  are  false,  and  yet  believes  that  there  is  no  difference  between  the 
representations  that  are  true  and  those  that  are  false  (Ibid.  II,  9 
29-41,  43). 

Having  thus  refuted  Scepticism,  Antiochus  founds  an  eclectic 
dogmatism.  He  professes  to  return  to  the  true  tradition  of 
the  Academy,  which,  according  to  him,  had  been  broken  since 
the  time  of  Arcesilaus.  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  Zeno  differ,  he 
says,  more  in  language  than  in  ideas  (Cic.  Acad.  II,  5,  15),  and 
here  we  have  another  argument  against  Scepticism.  Since  it  is 
possible  to  reconcile  the  various  systems,  the  Sceptic  can  no 
longer  bring  forward  the  contradictions  between  them  as  an 
argument  in  his  favour.  Arius  Didymus  and  Potamo,  con- 
temporaries of  Augustus,  were  likewise  eclectics. 

Cicero  had  been  taught  by  Philo  of  Larissa  and  Antiochus,  and  he 
adopted  to  a  great  extent  the  theories  of  the  new  Academy.  But  if  the 
contradictions  of  the  great  philosophers  appeared  to  him  a  sufficient 
reason  for  doubting  the  possibility  of  speculative  truth,  he  is  in  reality  an 
eclectic,  and  when  he  speaks  of  moral  truths  he  forgets  Carneades  and  is 
as  dogmatic  as  a  Stoic.  Every  conviction  rests  ultimately,  he  says,  on  an 
inner  and  immediate  certainty,  on  our  own  natural  feeling  of  truth,  on  a. 


110  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

kind  of  innate  knowledge  which  precedes  experience.  Sunt  enim  ingeniis 
nostris  semina  innata  virtutum  (Tusc.  Ill,  1,  2).  Natura  homini  dedit  talem 
mentem,  quae  oranem  virtutein  accipere  posset,  ingenuitque  sine  doctrina 
notitias  parvas  rerum  maximarum  (De  Fin.  V,  21,  59).  Animum  esse 
ingeneratum,  a  Deo  (De  Leg.  I,  8,  24). 

Revival  of  Scepticism.  Enesidemus ;  Agrippa :  the  Tropes. 
Sextus  Empiriciis.  Summary  of  Ancient  Scepticism.  Criticism 
(1)  of  the  Formal  Possibility,  (2)  of  the  Results  of  Knowledge. 

Eclecticism  was  the  offspring  of  Scepticism,  and  partook  of 
its  nature.  To  refuse  to  decide  between  rival  systems  of  philo- 
sophy was  equivalent  to  that  abstention  from  judgment  which 
was  recommended  by  the  Sceptics.  The  observation  was  soon 
made  that  the  meaning  of  a  philosophical  proposition  is 
determined  by  the  system  it  belongs  to,  and  that  consequently 
propositions  borrowed  from  different  systems  are  as  mutually 
exclusive  as  these  systems  themselves.  Thus  Scepticism  con- 
tinued side  by  side  with  Eclecticism,  but  from  this  time  forth 
it  showed  no  originality.  All  it  could  do  now  was  to  unite, 
order,  and  develop  the  arguments  of  Arcesilaus  and  Carneades. 
This  was  done  by  the  so-called  new  Sceptics. 

Ptolemy  of  Gyrene,  Enesidemus,  Agrippa,  and  Sextus 
Empiricus  (in  the  two  first  centuries  of  the  Christian  era) 
professed,  however,  not  to  belong  to  the  New  Academy,  while 
they  borrowed  from  it  most  of  their  arguments.  They  accuse 
this  school  of  inconsistency,  of  having  by  its  theory  of  pro- 
bability brought  about  the  eclectic  dogmatism  to  which  its 
later  representatives  had  been  converted.  Scepticism  in  its 
original  purity,  that  is  to  say  the  scepticism  of  Pyrrho,  seemed 
to  them  to  be  more  secure  against  the  attacks  of  dogmatism ; 
but,  in  truth,  it  is  difficult  to  say  in  what  they  differed  from 
the  Pyrrhonians  of  the  New  Academy.  The  chief  merit  of 
Enesidemus  is  that  he  collected  all  the  different  reasons  for 
doubting  under  ten  heads  or  tropes  (D.L.  IX,  87 ;  Sext.  Em- 
piricus, Adv.  Math.  VII,  345). 

Four  of  them  refer  more  especially  to  the  subject,  their  aim  being 
to  throw  doubt  upon  the  veracity  of  our  perceptions  by  showing  that 
these  contradict  one  another  (Sext.  Emp.  Pyrrh.  Hypotyp.  I,  36-117).  In 
the  first  place,  the  same  objects  appear  different  to  different  animals  ; 
secondly,  even  among  men  there  are  physical  and  moral  differences,  owing 
to  which  the  same  object  is  not  perceived  by  all  in  the  same  way  ; 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  111 

thirdly,  even  in  the  same  man  the  different  senses  are  not  always  in 
agreement,  and  sometimes  they  contradict  one  another  ;  fourthly,  our 
perception  of  things  is  affected  by  our  physical  and  moral  inclinations,  by 
the  state  of  our  health,  by  the  fact  of  our  being  awake  or  asleep,  at  rest 
or  in  motion,  sad  or  joyful,  etc.  How  are  we  to  know  whether  we  are  in 
a  condition  to  perceive  things  exactly  as  they  are  ?  Whatever  our 
criterion  may  be,  it  requires  proof  ;  and  in  order  to  know  whether  this  proof 
is  correct,  another  criterion  is  needed,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 

Enesidemus'  six  other  tropes  may  be  said  to  refer  to  the  object.  They 
show  the  uncertainty  and  difficulty  which  surround  our  knowledge  in  its 
relation  to  the  object.  Firstly,  the  same  thing  appears  differently  to  us 
according  to  the  different  forms  it  assumes  ;  the  same  substance  will 
appear  white  as  a  powder,  and  yellow  or  black  as  a  solid  mass.  A  grain 
of  sand  appears  to  us  to  be  hard,  whereas  a  heap  of  sand  is  soft. 
Secondly,  the  result  of  observations  vaiy  with  circumstances.  A  square 
tower  appears  to  us  from  a  distance  to  be  round.  Thirdly,  things  make 
more  or  less  impression  on  us  according  as  we  are  more  or  less  accustomed 
to  them.  Fourthly,  we  cannot  know  things  in  themselves  on  account  of 
the  relativity  of  all  our  representations.  Fifthly,  we  perceive  things 
through  a  medium  (air,  liquids,  etc.),  the  influence  of  which  on  our 
perceptions  we  are  unable  to  appreciate.  Sixthly,  the  differences  in  laws 
and  in  customs  render  impossible  any  decision  as  to  what  is  true  and 
what  is  false,  as  to  what  is  good  and  in  conformity  to  nature  (Sext.  Emp. 
Pyrrh.  Hypotyp.  I,  117-163). 

Most  of  these  arguments  bear  on  our  sensible  knowledge  only,  but 
Enesidemus  adds  to  this  criticism  another  which  concerns  our  conception 
of  the  true,  and  especially  of  causality  (Emile  Saisset  :  Enesideme).  He 
also  examines  our  conceptions  of  passivity,  of  birth  and  destruction,  as 
being  connected  with  our  notion  of  causality,  and  he  tries  to  show  that 
every  one  of  these  notions  involves  a  contradiction.  As  against  the 
Stoics,  he  also  maintains  the  impossibility  of  inferring  from  phenomena  to 
substance,  from  external  signs  to  what  is  hidden.  As  we  shall  see,  his 
arguments  were  developed  later  by  Sextus  Empiricus.  The  conclusion 
arrived  at  by  Enesidemus  is  that  no  one  should  affirm  anything,  not  even 
his  own  doubt.  He  wished  his  philosophy  to  be  called  not  a  doctrine 
(di/D€<ris),  but  a  tendency 


Agrippa  reduces  the  sceptical  arguments  or  tropes  to  five  : 

Firstly,  contradictions  among  human  opinions  ;  secondly,  infinite 
regress,  the  necessity  of  proving  everything  ;  thirdly,  relativity  of  all  our 
representations,  which  vary  with  the  subject  ;  fourthly,  every  demon- 
stration amounts  to  a  petitio  principi  ;  fifthly,  diallelos  :  whatever  is  used  to 
prove  a  proposition  stands  itself  in  need  of  this  same  proposition  in  order 
to  be  proved  ;  for  example,  the  veracity  of  thought  can  be  proved  only 
through  sensible  perception,  and  vice  versa  (Sext.  Emp.  Pyrrh,  Hypotyp. 
I,  164  sq.). 


112  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Finally,  at  the  end  of  the  second  century  of  the  Christian 
era,  we  find  in  Sextus  Empiricus  a  recapitulation  of  all  the 
arguments  of  his  forerunners. 

He  continually  returns  to  the  argument  of  the  impossibility  of  estab- 
lishing a  criterion  of  truth,  or  of  proving  anything,  because  every  demon- 
stration demands  another,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  Not  even  the  proposition 
that  man  is  able  to  judge  of  truth  can  be  maintained.  For  with 
whom  would  this  decision  rest  ?  With  one  man  or  with  all  men  ? 
In  the  former  case,  where  is  this  man  to  be  found  ?  In  the  latter,  how 
is  an  agreement  between  all  nien  to  be  established  ?  And  even  if  we 
were  to  grant  that  man  has  the  power  to  judge  of  the  truth,  which  of  his 
faculties  will  enable  him  to  do  so  ?  The  senses  ?  but  these  continually 
contradict  each  other  in  different  men,  and  in  the  same  man  from  one 
moment  to  another  ;  moreover,  the  senses  only  give  us  subjective  modi- 
fications and  never  enable  us  to  assert  anything  as  to  the  nature  of  things. 
Can  it  be  through  the  understanding  ?  But  how  could  man's  understanding, 
which  is  internal,  reach  the  external  ?  This  last  argument  contains,  as  it 
were,  a  presentiment  of  one  of  the  problems  in  Kant's  Critique  :  What 
proof  have  we  of  the  objectivity  of  the  categories  of  human  thought  ? 
(Pyrrh.  Hypotyp.  II,  18-84  ;  Adv.  Math.  314-445).  Sextus  Empiricus  also 
examines  our  notions  of  the  true,  but  on  this  point  his  arguments  do  not 
contain  much  beyond  what  he  had  already  said  concerning  the  criterion 
of  truth. 

Having  examined  the  formal  possibility  of  knowledge, 
Sextus  Empiricus  proceeds  to  attack  the  results  arrived  at 
by  the  divers  dogmatic  systems  of  philosophy  ;  he  develops 
the  arguments  of  his  forerunners,  and  more  especially  those 
of  Enesidemus. 

The  Stoics  had  distinguished  two  kinds  of  signs.  The  first  only 
recall  other  phenomena  with  which  by  a  previous  experience  we  know 
them  to  be  associated  ;  in  this  sense  lightning  is  the  sign  of  thunder, 
smoke  of  fire  ;  and  these  they  call  signs  of  things  already  experienced 
(cnfjfj.ela  ei/SeiKTiKa).  The  other  kind  of  sign  reveals  to  us  that  which 
we  do  not  know  through  any  experience  ;  these  are  indicative  signs 
(eKKaXinrriKa).  Phenomena,  for  example,  are  not  only  signs  that  recall 
to  memory  other  phenomena,  for  they  also  reveal  to  us  substances  and 
causes.  Sextus  Empiricus  denies  the  existence  of  these  indicative  signs. 
The  sign  and  what  is  signified  are,  he  says,  two  things  which  are  relative 
to  one  another.  Now,  of  two  correlative  things  one  cannot  be  known 
without  the  other  (e.g.  right  and  left) ;  therefore  we  cannot  understand  a 
sign  as  a  sign  without  understanding  the  thing  it  signifies,  and  consequently 
we  should  know  together  with  it  that  which  it  is  supposed  to  reveal  to  us  ; 
and  hence  the  sign  would  be  useless.  The  sign  cannot  precede  in  the  order 


SCEPTICISM   AND   CERTITUDE  113 

of  knowledge  that  which  it  signifies,  therefore  there  are  no  revealing  signs. 
How  then  can  we  infer  substance  from  phenomena  ?  The  latter  can 
make  nothing  known  to  us  that  we  do  not  already  know  at  the  same  time 
and  in  the  same  way  as  themselves  (Pyrrh.  Hypotyp.  II,  80-133  ;  Adv. 
Math.  VIII,  141-298). 

Not  only,  according  to  Sextus  Empiricus  (Adv.  Math.  IX, 
207),  are  we  unable  to  arrive  at  causes  through  phenomena, 
but  the  very  idea  of  cause  involves  a  contradiction. 

For  no  matter  how  we  try  to  imagine  it,  we  are  unable  to  conceive 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  The  cause  must  precede  the  effect,  but 
a  cause  is  a  relative  thing,  for  it  can  have  no  existence  unless  in 
relation  to  some  effect.  Now,  correlative  things  are  simultaneous  not 
only  in  thought  but  in  existence.  And  if  the  cause  and  the  effect  are 
simultaneous,  how  are  we  to  distinguish  them  ?  Which  is  the  effect, 
which  the  cause  ?  And  how  are  we  to  conceive  cause  and  effect — as 
corporeal  or  incorporeal  ?  But  the  corporeal  cannot  produce  the 
incorporeal ;  and  conversely.  We  are  unable  to  conceive  any  relation 
between  these  two  heterogeneous  terms.  Again,  the  corporeal  cannot  be 
produced  by  the  corporeal,  nor  the  incorporeal  by  the  incorporeal,  for, 
were  it  so,  that  which  is  derived  from  the  active  substances  would  be 
already  contained  in  them  and  consequently  would  not  have  had  to 
become.  Finally,  either  the  cause  produces  its  effect  alone,  or  it  require* 
a  matter  in  which  to  produce  it.  In  the  former  case,  from  being  one,  the 
cause  becomes  two,  and,  since  it  is  its  nature  to  produce,  from  being  two 
it  will  become  four,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  But  is  it  not  absurd  to  make 
infinity  come  out  of  unity  ?  And  if  the  active  principle  can  do  nothing 
without  the  co-operation  of  the  passive  principle,  the  cause  being  defined 
as  being  such  that  the  effect  takes  place  when  it  is  present  and  does  not 
take  place  when  it  is  absent,  the  passive  principle  is  as  much  the  cause  as 
the  active  (Adv.  Math.  IX,  195-276). 

It  will  be  noticed  that  this  lengthy  criticism  of  the  con- 
ception of  causality  is  an  entirely  objective  one,  and  that  it  in 
no  wise  foreshadows  the  modern  psychological  method.  Sextus 
Empiricus  endeavours,  by  means  of  arguments  of  the  same 
kind,  to  reduce  to  nothing  the  conceptions  of  diminution  and 
increase,  and,  with  them,  those  of  the  transposition  of  parts,  of 
change  and  of  motion.  He  analyses  the  notions  presupposed  in 
physical  science:  space,  body,  rest,  motion,  mixture;  and  the  proof 
of  the  existence  of  God,  and  of  the  providential  attributes 
belonging  to  God  which  are  part  of  the  doctrine  of  universal 
design.  His  arguments,  which  are  scarcely  more  than  a 
development  of  those  of  his  predecessors,  end,  like  theirs,  in  the 

II.  H 


114 

conclusion  that  all  affirmations  are  indifferent :  la-ocrOeveia  TWV 
Xoycov.  Every  affirmation  may  be  contradicted  by  an  affirma- 
tion of  equal  value.  We  must  therefore  suspend  our 
judgment  and  act  in  accordance  with  appearances,  custom, 
or  the  need  of  the  moment/ 

Neo- Platonic  Mysticism  :  Ecstasy. 

It  seemed  as  if  scepticism  was  to  be  the  last  word  of  Greek 
Philosophy.  The  Eclectics  had  attempted  to  avert  the  ruin  of 
philosophy  by  appealing  to  our  immediate  knowledge,  to 
common  sense.  But  there  was  no  more  harmony  between  the 
conceptions  of  the  different  members  of  the  eclectic  school 
than  between  the  systems  which  they  professed  to  reconcile ;. 
and  this  diversity  was  another  triumph  for  scepticism.  Truth 
was  not  to  be  found  either  in  the  relation  of  thought  to  its 
object  nor  in  the  reflection  of  thought  upon  itself.  We  must 
abandon  the  hope  of  attaining  truth  unless  we  admit  that  it  is 
directly  communicated  to  us  by  Him  who  is  its  eternal  source, 
that  is,  by  God  Himself.  And  this  was  the  extreme  solution 
adopted  by  the  Neo-Platonists,  a  solution  which  scepticism 
had  rendered  necessary.  Only  the  despair  of  attaining  certainty 
in  scientific  thought  could  have  led  to  this  attempt  to  find  truth 
in  a  revelation  that  was  above  thought  itself. 

But  how  was  certainty  to  be  founded  on  the  knowledge  of  a 
God  Whose  existence  it  was  necessary  to  prove  ?  A  reply  to 
this  question  is  found  in  the  system  of  Plotinus.  God  is 
within  us,  we  are  not  really  distinct  from  Him.  The  whole 
function  of  philosophy  is,  by  forcing  us  to  return  to  our  true 
being,  to  make  us  conscious  of  our  identity  with  the  Divine 
Being  ;  to  render  possible  the  ecstasy  by  which  we  are  absorbed 
in  the  supreme  unity.  Thus  the  Neo-Platonists,  like  the 
Eclectics,  make  an  appeal  to  immediate  certainty.  But  how 
could  certain  knowledge  of  the  object  be  derived  from  the  mere 
reflection  of  the  subject  on  itself  ?  To  this  question  the 
Eclectics  had  found  no  answer  ;  but  it  is  solved  when  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  subject  on  itself  is  ultimately  nothing  else  than  the 
union  of  the  subject  with  the  Supreme  Principle  from  which 
are  derived  both  all  existence  and  all  truth. 

Aristotle  saw  clearly  that  proof  is  possible  only  on  principles 
which  themselves  do  not  require  proof.  If  we  can  find  truth 


SCEPTICISM   AND  CERTITUDE  115 

through  dialectic  it  must  be  that  we  possess  it  already.  How 
is  this  possession  of  the  truth  to  be  explained  ?  The  soul  in 
her  higher  part  dwells  always  in  the  intelligence  ;  she  has,  in  the 
intuition  of  herself,  the  intuition  of  the  intelligible,  of  the  world 
of  ideas  (Plotinus,  Enn.  IV,  4,  2).  But  above  this  intellectual 
intuition,  in  which  there  is  still  consciousness  and  distinction, 
there  is  the  intuition  of  the  One,  there  is  ecstasy,  by  which  we 
are  lifted  above  all  determinate  thought  and  fused  with 
God  {Ibid.  VI,  9,  4).  It  is  only  through  ecstasy  that  we 
possess  the  principle  and  the  unity  of  ideas.  So  long  as  we 
have  not  risen  to  this  higher  intuition  in  which  we  become 
•one  with  the  Absolute,  there  remains  a  duality  of  subject  and 
object,  of  thought  and  being,  which  stands  in  the  way  of 
knowledge.  Thus  it  is  in  ecstasy  that  the  ultimate  principle  of 
all  certainty  is  found.  But  Plotinus  himself  admits  that 
ecstasy  does  not  depend  on  ourselves  ;  we  must  wait  for  it, 
we  can  at  most  prepare  ourselves  for  it  by  purification  through 
knowledge  and  virtue.  Certainty  would  seem  then  to  be  only 
the  privilege  of  some  elect  souls,  a  gift  from  heaven. 

Christianity  introduces  into  the  Theory  of  Certainty  a  new 
•element  :  Faith. 

In  the  Neo-Platonic  ecstasy  we  are  immediately  united  to 
the  Absolute,  the  intuition  of  which  is  above  intelligence.  But 
this  ecstasy  is  an  accidental  and  passing  state.  Quite  other  is 
the  function  of  Faith  (Tr/o-rt?).  In  Christian  philosophy  Faith, 
according  to  St.  Paul,  is  not  only  the  act  of  a  mind  that  assents 
to  the  Evangelical  teaching,  but  a  feeling  of  trust  and  the  need 
of  loving  God.  It  is,  moreover,  an  act  of  will  by  which  we 
renounce  the  flesh,  in  order  to  live  the  divine  life  through 
•communion  with  Christ. 

I  live  ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me  :  &  8e  OVK  en  eyw,  £17  Se  Iv  e/Aot 
Xptcrros  (Gal.  II,  20).  Thus  faith  takes  possession  of  the  whole  soul, 
renews,  regenerates  her,  gives  her  new  life.  But  man  is  not  the  author 
of  his  own  salvation.  Faith  comes  to  him  from  God,  Who,  by  communi- 
cating His  spirit  to  man,  brings  about  the  birth  of  the  spiritual  man 
in  him. 


While  he  shows  the  part  played  by  faith  in  all  our  know- 
ledge, St.  Augustine  endeavours  to  bring  about  the  union  of 
rational  with  religious  faith. 


116  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Scepticism  cannot  be  reconciled  with  that  need  of  certainty  which 
allows  the  human  mind  no  rest  without  the  possession  of  truth.  In  the 
second  place,  scepticism  involves  contradictory  elements  :  even  if  I  doubt 
I  have  the  notion  of  knowledge,  for  doubt  implies  a  comparison  between 
actual  knowledge  and  the  notion  of  an  ideal  knowledge  to  which  the 
former  does  not  correspond  (De  Vera  Relig.  73).  Finally,  doubt  implies 
the  fact  that  he  who  doubts  thinks  and  exists  (De  Trin.  X,  14).  Here 
we  have  Descartes'  Cogito  ergo  sum.  It  is  impossible  to  rest  satisfied 
with  scepticism.  Now  faith  (in  the  most  general  sense  of  the  word) 
and  knowledge  presuppose  one  another,  for  they  are  joined  in  every  act 
of  knowledge.  What  is  knowing  ?  It  is  apprehending  by  reason  that 
which  makes  a  thing  necessary  ;  but  before  we  can  become  conscious 
of  this  necessity  we  must  admit  the  existence  of  the  object,  we  must 
rely  on  the  immediate  evidence  which  discursive  thought  will  afterwards 
confirm  (De  Liber  Arbit.  II,  2).  Thus  faith,  or  the  act  of  will  which  gives 
its  assent  to  thought  (cum  assensione  cogitare),  is  the  first  step  towards 
knowledge.  That  our  sensible  perceptions  are  subjectively  true  there 
can  be  no  doubt ;  but  that  there  is  a  real  world  corresponding  to  these 
perceptions  is  a  truth  of  which  faith  alone  can  give  us  certainty;  and 
that  this  sensible  world  contains,  so  to  speak,  supra-sensible  truth  is- 
another  act  of  faith  which  precedes  thought.  It  is  therefore  possible 
to  have  faith  without  knowledge,  but  there  can  be  no  knowledge 
without  faith.  St  Augustine's  ideal  is  neither  belief  without  knowledge 
nor  knowledge  without  belief,  but  the  faith  which  is  made  complete  by 
knowledge,  or  the  knowledge  which  confirms  this  faith  (De  Utilitate- 
Credendi,  II,  25).  There  is  a  double  analogy  between  religious  faith 
and  the  faith  that  provides  the  object  of  our  knowledge.  Religious 
faith  implies  an  act  of  will  and  of  love  ;  to  know  the  good  we  must 
love  and  will  it.  Moreover,  religious  faith  also  finds  outside  itself 
its  object,  which  consists  in  the  supernatural  truths  given  to  us  in. 
revelation. 

The  Middle  Ages :  Gradual  Separation  of  Faith  from 
Heason  results  in  Scepticism.  Montaigne.  Charron. 

The  Mediaeval  philosophers,  like  St.  Augustine,  regarded 
faith  as  an  experience :  the  experience  of  an  ethical  and 
spiritual  life  as  opposed  to  external  experience.  For  the 
ancients,  moral  life  depended  on  knowledge,  "  man  acts  as  he 
thinks."  For  the  great  Scholastics,  on  the  contrary,  the 
experience  of  the  life  of  the  soul,  that  profound  consciousness 
of  a  spiritual  nature  which  is  faith,  is  both  the  perfection  and 
the  condition  of  scientific  knowledge.  Faith  is  not  opposed  to 
knowledge ;  it  prepares  the  way  for  knowledge.  Truth  cannot 
contradict  itself. 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  117 

St.  Anselm  expounds  with  much  force  the  doctrine  :  Non  quaero 
intellegere  ut  credam,  sed  credo  ut  intelligam.  I  believe  in  order  to  under- 
stand, quia  nisi  credidero,  non  intelligam,  for  if  I  did  not  believe  I  should 
not  understand  (Proslog.  1).  St.  Thomas  does  not  go  quite  so  far ;  he  thinks 
that  revealed  truths  such  as  those  of  the  Trinity,  original  sin,  etc.,  cannot  be 
proved  by  reason,  not  because  they  are  against  reason,  but  because  they 
are  above  it,  and  that  is  why  they  are  objects  of  faith  (Sicmma  Theol.  I, 
Quaest.  32,  Art.  1).  Faith  in  man  pre-supposes  the  £o-operation  of  grace, 
or,  as  it  were,  a  call  from  God  (interior  instinctus  Dei  invitantis).  It  depends 
more  on  the  will  than  on  the  intellect.  The  mind  adheres  to  truths 
of  a  supernatural  order,  not  by  the  force  of  an  irresistible  demonstration, 
but  by  obeying  the  will.  Reason  can  only  refute  the  arguments  of  the 
enemies  of  the  Church  by  showing  that  they  are  false  or  not  necessary 
(falsas,  non  necessarias).  Faith,  like  grace,  does  not  destroy  nature  but 
completes  and  perfects  it.  Reason  pre-supposes  the  preambles  of  faith 
(praeambula  Jidei),  and  in  this  sense  is  subordinate  to  faith,  naturalis 
ratio  subsermt  Jidei  (Summa  Theol.  II,  qu.  2). 

Finally,  when,  with  William  of  Ockam,  Nominalism  prevailed, 
faith  was  separated  from  and  even  opposed  to  knowledge. 
Eealism,  by  representing  the  very  ideas  of  God  as  the  objects  of 
knowledge,  was  able  to  find  harmony  between  reason  and  faith. 
Nominalism  reduced  science  to  a  pure  formalism.  It  was  no 
longer  Divine  ideas  that  were  the  basis  of  our  reasonings,  but 
words,  nomina,  flatus  vocis.  Kevealed  truths  were  therefore 
imposed  by  faith,  and  faith  had  nothing  in  common  with 
reason,  which  had  only  a  relative  value.  Thus  it  would  seem  that 
the  philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  failed  in  its  task :  it 
did  not  succeed  in  reconciling  faith  with  reason.  But  this  was 
because  faith  was  then  identified  with  the  dogmas  of  a 
positive  religion.  Nevertheless  a  great  truth  was  brought  to 
light,  namely,  that  true  philosophy,  if  not  science  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  word,  cannot  be  separated  from  the 
experience  of  our  ethical  and  spiritual  life ;  that  philosophy  is 
made  up  of  ideas  revealed  by  this  experience  and  reflection. 

It  became  a  habit  amongst  the  bold  philosophers  of  the 
Renaissance  to  draw  a  distinction  between  theological  and 
philosophical  truths,  and  to  assert  that  they  might  co-exist 
although  opposed  to  one  another.  Doctrines  submissively 
accepted  as  articles  of  faith  were  rejected  in  the  name 
of  reason.  But  this  separation  of  reason  and  faith 
divided  the  human  mind  against  itself.  It  was  inevitable 
that  thought  should  openly  return  to  the  ancient  tradition,  and 


118  THE  PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

that  reason  should  once  more  be  reinstated.  This  was  done 
by  Descartes.  If  men  are  to  rest  content  with  the  mediaeval 
conception,  with  the  antithesis  between  reason  and  faith,  the 
consequence  will  be  a  scientific  scepticism. 

This  is  the  view  taken  by  Montaigne,  whose  whole  work  is 
a  negation  of  what  had  been  affirmed  by  the  great  Scholastics. 
His  essays,  indeed,  mark  the  end  of  mediaeval  thought, 
although  he  merely  resumes  the  arguments  of  ancient  scepticism 
concerning  the  formal  possibility  of,  and  the  results  obtained 
by  knowledge.  Montaigne's  friend  and  disciple  Charron  thinks 
that  a  very  good  method  of  introducing  and  establishing  Chris- 
tianity among  an  unbelieving  and  infidel  people  would  be  to- 
make  them  disciples  of  Pyrrho.  Reason,  being  then  convinced 
of  its  own  impotence,  would  easily  submit  to  revelation,  for, 
he  says,  never  would  a  Tyrrhenian  or  an  Academician  be  a 
heretic  :  they  are  two  opposite  things. 

Descartes :  Clear  and  Distinct  Ideas  ;  Divine  Truthfulness ; 
Reconciliation. 

Was  there  then  no  choice  between  scepticism  and  revelation  ? 
Some  sought  to  escape  from  this  alternative, — Galileo  and  Coper- 
nicus through  the  natural  bent  of  their  scientific  genius ; 
Telesio  and  Bacon  because  they  had  a  presentiment  of  modern 
scientific  methods ;  Giordano  Bruno  and  Nicholas  of  Cusa 
through  their  philosophic  enthusiasm.  It  was  the  spirit  of 
antiquity  come  to  life  again,  though  not  yet  fully  conscious  of 
itself.  Descartes  was  the  first  to  attempt,  with  a  full  con- 
sciousness of  what  he  wanted  and  of  what  had  to  be  done,  to 
re-establish  an  independent  philosophy,  and  that  not  only 
de  facto  but  de  jure. 

The  introduction  to  his  philosophy  is,  as  it  were,  a  summary 
of  the  whole  history  of  human  thought  since  the  Middle  Ages. 
He  puts  aside  faith  and  at  once  finds  himself  confronted  by 
scepticism :  how  was  he  to  escape  from  it  ?  By  employing 
it  as  a  method.  We  have  accepted  most  of  our  opinions  with- 
out reflection  from  our  teachers  and  our  desires,  and  we  must 
set  them  aside  (Disc,  de  la  Meth.,  2nd  Part).  Since  our  senses 
sometimes  deceive  us,  we  cannot  trust  them  at  all.  Some 
men  make  mistakes  in  their  reasoning  concerning  even  the 
simplest  things  in  geometry,  hence  we  shall  reject  as  false  all 


SCEPTICISM   AND   CERTITUDE  119 

those  reasons  which  we  now  take  to  be  demonstrative.  Lastly, 
as  a  malicious  spirit,  as  cunning  and  deceitful  as  it  is  powerful, 
may  be  making  sport  of  us  and  using  his  skill  to  deceive  us, 
we  shall  suspend  our  judgment  on  all  things  (1st  Medit.). 

In  its  methodical  doubt  Cartesian  philosophy  starts  from 
scepticism.  But  out  of  this  very  doubt  does  not  an  irresistible 
truth  emerge  ?  I  who  doubt,  think.  /  think,  therefore  I  am. 
And  this  is  the  starting  point  of  modern  thought ;  it  establishes 
the  thinking  subject,  and  so  clearly,  that  henceforward  the 
facts  of  consciousness  at  least,  and  the  manifestations  of 
thought,  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  most  audacious  scepticism. 
All  that  the'  latter  can  now  question  is  the  correspondence 
between  these  subjective  phenomena  and  reality,  that  is  to  say, 
the  existence  of  objective  certainty. 

How  is  this  objective  certainty  to  be  attained  ?  This  is  the 
most  critical  point  in  the  Cartesian  theory.  When  I  say  that 
"  I  think,  therefore  I  am,"  what  is  it  that  assures  ine  of  the 
truth  of  this  proposition  ?  It  is  that  I  know  clearly  that  in 
order  to  think  I  must  exist.  I  may  therefore  take  it  as  a 
truth  that  those  things  which  I  conceive  very  clearly  and 
distinctly  are  all  true.  The  clearness  and  distinctness  of  ideas 
is  therefore  the  criterion  of  their  truth.  Starting  from  this 
principle,  Descartes  proves  the  existence  of  God.  But  having 
done  so,  he  seems  to  invert  the  order  of  his  first  principles,  for 
he  adds  that  it  is  because  God  exists  that  what  we  can  see 
clearly  and  distinctly  is  true. 

"  The  principle  which  I  have  already  taken  as  a  rule,  viz.,  that  all 
the  things  which  we  clearly  and  distinctively  conceive  are  true,  is  certain 
only  because  He  is  or  exists,  and  because  He  is  a  perfect  being,  and  because 
all  we  possess  is  derived  from  Him.  Whence  it  follows  that  our  ideas  or 
notions,  which  to  the  extent  of  their  clearness  or  distinctness  are  real  and 
proceed  from  God,  must  to  that  extent  be  true  "  (Disc,  de  la  Meth.  4th  Pt.). 

But  is  there  not  here  a  vicious  circle  ?  Eeason  proves  the 
existence  of  God,  and  God  guarantees  the  validity  of  reason. 
Our  demonstration  of  the  existence  of  God  is  valid  only  if  He 
is  already  shown  to  exist.  God  is  proved  by  the  natural  light 
of  reason,  and  without  God  this  natural  light  could  only  be  a 
source  of  error.  In  order  to  understand  how  Descartes 
escapes  from  this  seemingly  vicious  circle  we  must  observe  his 
view  of  certainty.  The  problem  is  not  to  pass  from  what 


120  THE  PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

appears  to  us  as  true  to  what  is  true  in  itself,  but  to  attain 
absolute  certainty  in  the  realm  of  thought.  The  doubt  we 
want  to  get  rid  of  is  the  doubt  of  a  man  who  has  just  done  a 
sum  of  addition  and  asks  himself  whether  he  has  made  a 
mistake  in  it. 

"  When  in  thinking  we  have  a  clear  conception  of  a  certain  truth,  we  are 
naturally  inclined  to  believe  this  truth.  And  if  our  belief  is  so  firm  that 
we  can  never  have  any  reason  to  doubt  that  which  we  believe  in  this  way, 
we  require  nothing  more  ;  for  we  have  with  regard  to  this  matter  as  much 
certainty  as  one  can  reasonably  desire.  For  what  matters  it  to  us  if  some 
one  were  to  suppose  that  that  of  which  we  are  so  strongly  persuaded  is 
false  in  the  eyes  of  God  or  of  the  angels,  and  is  therefore,  absolutely 
speaking,  false  ? "  (Answer  to  the  2nd  Objection). 

We  must  distinguish  between  an  immediate  intuition  and  the 
act  of  memory  implied  in  every  deduction  that  is  at  all  lengthy. 
When  we  fix  our  mind  on  an  evident  truth,  such  as  the  cogito 
ergo  sum,  there  is  no  room  for  doubt.  Our  intuition,  that  is 
to  say,  our  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  the  truth  before  us 
does  not  require  the  guarantee  of  the  divine  veracity.  But 
when  we  make  a  lengthy  deduction,  or  when  we  remember 
certain  conclusions  without  thinking  of  the  principles  by  which 
they  are  established,  and  without  going  once  more  through  the 
reasoning  by  which  they  are  justified,  only  the  knowledge  of 
God,  who  is  the  warrant  of  the  validity  of  our  thought,  can 
give  us  certainty.  The  knowledge  of  the  atheist  is  not  true 
science,  because  any  knowledge  on  which  doubt  may  be  thrown 
cannot  be  called  by  the  name  of  science  (Ibid.). 

We  have  now  escaped  from  the  circle  in  which  we  seemed 
to  be  imprisoned.  The  cogito  ergo  sum  is  a  clear  and  dis- 
tinct truth  at  the  moment  when  we  think  it,  and  as  there  is 
no  thought  that  does  not  imply  the  cogito,  the  latter  never  falls 
into  the  realm  of  memory.  From  the  cogito  we  are  led  to  the 
existence  of  God  without  going  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
irresistible  evidence  which  leaves  no  room  for  doubt.  When 
we  have  reached  the  idea  of  God,  we  have  the  certainty  that 
our  mind  is  made  for  truth ;  and  this  certainty  extends  to  the 
premisses  which  have  served  to  prove  the  existence  of  God. 

"  In  the  first  instance,  we  are  sure  that  God  exists,  because  we  give  our 
attention  to  the  reasons  which  prove  His  existence  ;  but  after  that,  it  is 
enough  for  us  to  remember  having  conceived  a  thing  clearly  in  order  to  be 


SCEPTICISM  AND   CERTITUDE  121 

sure  that  this  thing  is  true,  which  would  not  be  the  case  if  we  did  not  know 
that  God  exists  and  that  He  cannot  deceive  us"  (Answer  to  the  4th 
Objection,  2nd  Part). 

To  sum  up :  God  is  the  principle  of  knowledge  as  well  as  of 
existence.  In  Him  is  the  theoretical  basis  of  certainty ;  but 
its  practical  criterion  is  in  the  clearness  and  distinctness  of 
ideas.  By  an  intuition  which  leaves  no  room  for  doubt  we 
know  the  existence  of  thought  and  the  existence  of  God,  which 
is  immediately  deducible  from  the  existence  of  thought. 

As  for  the  existence  of  the  world  it  is  guaranteed  to  us  by 
the  divine  veracity  alone.  In  the  same  way  the  knowledge  of 
this  world  is  subordinate  to  the  existence  of  God,  for  it  is 
because  God  exists  and  because  He  is  perfect  that  distinct 
realities  correspond  to  our  clear  and  distinct  ideas. 

Malebranche :  Certitude  and  Vision  in  God. 

According  to  Descartes,  the  truthfulness  of  God  assures  us 
that  real  things  correspond  to  our  clear  and  distinct  ideas.  We 
have  thus  three  terms  before  us  :  the  ideas  of  the  mind,  reality, 
and  God.  Malebranche  simplifies  Descartes'  system  by  reduc- 
ing these  three  terms  to  one.  The  ideas  are  reality  itself,  and 
our  mind,  which  apprehends  them  by  an  immediate  intuition, 
does  not  require  to  be  guaranteed  by  God,  since  in  so  far  as  it 
has  clear  and  distinct  ideas  it  sees  God  Himself. 

"  If  our  bodies  move  in  a  corporeal  world,  our  minds  are  constantly 
being  carried  into  an  ideal  world  which  affects  them,  and  thus  becomes 
perceptible  to  them  "  (Entretiens  I,  5).  To  deny  the  reality  of  the  ideas 
would  be  to  assert  that  the  non-existent  can  be  thought.  "All  the 
things  of  which  I  think,  are,  or  at  least  exist  as  long  as  I  am  thinking  of 
them.  When  I  think  of  a  circle  or  a  number,  of  Being,  or  the  Infinite,  or 
of  a  certain  finite  being,  I  perceive  realities,  for  if  the  circle  of  which  I 
am  thinking  was  nothing,  when  thinking  of  it  I  would  be  thinking  of 
nothing ;  now  the  circle  of  which  I  am  thinking  has  properties  that  do  not 
belong  to  any  other  figure,  therefore  this  circle  exists  at  the  time  I  am 
thinking  it,  because  the  non-existent  has  no  properties,  and  one  non- 
existent thing  cannot  be  different  from  another  non-existent  thing " 
{Ibid.  I,  4).  All  these  ideas  exist  in  God,  Who  is  the  basis  of  their 
reality.  "All  our  clear  ideas  are  in  God  as  far  as  their  intelligible  reality 
is  concerned.  It  is  only  in  Him  that  we  see  them,  only  in  the  universal 
reason  which  through  them  enlightens  all  minds.  If  our  ideas  are 
eternal,  immutable,  necessary,  it  must  be  that  they  exist  in  an  immutable 


122  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Being  ;  our  minds  dwell  in  the  Universal  Reason  in  that  Intelligible 
Substance  which  contains  the  ideas  of  all  the  truths  discovered  by  us  " 
(Ibid.  I,  10). 

Thus  the  principle  of  certainty  is  our  union,  or  rather  our 
oneness  with  God.  Truth  is  God  present  in  us,  thinking  in 
us ;  the  intelligible  is  the  real  and  the  absolute.  For  Male- 
branche,  as  for  Descartes,  the  practical  criterion  of  truth  is 
the  clearness  of  our  ideas.  "  In  order  to  know  the  works  of 
God  we  must  consult  the  ideas  He  gives  us  ;  those  which  are 
clear  ;  those  on  which  He  has  formed  these  works.  We  run  a, 
great  risk,  if  we  follow  any  other  method  "  (Ibid.  Ill,  12).  "  All 
our  clear  ideas  are  in  God  in  so  far  as  they  have  intelligible 
reality.  It  is  only  in  Him  that  we  see  them"  (Ibid.  I,  18), 
What,  then,  is  the  use  of  the  material  world  on  this  theory  ?  It 
has  none.  If  it  did  not  exist,  nothing  would  be  changed  in  our 
knowledge  of  the  intelligible  world  (Ibid.  I,  5).  We  could  even, 
absolutely  speaking,  have  the  same  feelings  independently 
of  objects  (Ibid.  I,  8 ;  VI,  4).  And  on  the  other  hand,  if  the 
sensible  world  did  exist  we  should  have  no  means  of  perceiving 
it ;  why  then  affirm  its  existence  ?  It  cannot  be  known 
immediately,  and  the  feelings  which  lead  us  to  believe  in  it 
are  purely  subjective  modifications. 

"  Bodies  cannot  act  on  our  mind  nor  be  present  to  it,  and  our  mind  can 
only  know  them  in  the  ideas  which  represent  them,  and  can  only  perceive 
them  through  the  modes  and  feelings  of  which  they  cannot  be  more  than 
the  occasional  cause  "  (Entr.  VI,  5).  The  external  world  cannot  be  proved. 
"  The  volitions  of  God  which  refer  to  the  world  are  not  contained  in  the 
notion  we  have  of  Him,  and  since  only  these  volitions  can  give  being  to 
creatures,  it  is  clear  that  only  those  truths  can  be  demonstrated  which 
have  a  necessary  connection  with  their  principles.  Thus,  since  we 
cannot  make  sure  of  the  existence  of  bodies  through  demonstration, 
there  is  no  other  way  of  doing  so  except  through  the  authority  of 
revelation"  (Ibid.  6). 

These  divers  sensations  by  which  we  are  affected  are  the 
results  of  the  general  laws  of  the  union  of  the  soul  and  the 
body,  and  are  nothing  else  than  natural  .revelations  by  which 
God  informs  us  that  we  have  a  body  and  that  we  are 
surrounded  by  other  bodies.  But  our  senses  sometimes 
deceive  us ;  hence  speculative  doubt  is  still  possible,  and  we 
must  fall  back  on  supernatural  revelation. 


SCEPTICISM   AND   CEETITUDE  123 

"  Faith  provides  us  with  a  proof  which  it  is  impossible  to  resist. 
Whether  there  are  bodies  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  we  see  them,  and  that 
God  alone  can  have  given  us  sensations  of  them.  It  is  therefore  God 
who  puts  before  my  mind  the  appearance  of  the  men  with  whom  I 
live,  of  the  books  I  study,  of  the  preachers  I  hear.  .  .  .  Now,  faith 
tells  me  that  God  has  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  that  the 
Scriptures  are  a  Divine  Book.  This  Book,  as  it  appears  to  me,  tells  me 
positively  that  there  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  creatures  and 
things.  Behold,  now,  all  my  appearances  changed  into  reality.  Faith 
being  pre-supposed,  the  existence  of  bodies  is  strictly  demonstrated" 
Ibid.  8). 

To  sum  up :  our  soul  stands  in  two  relations  ;  one  of  these 
is  immediate  and  necessary,  a  relation  to  the  Author  of  its 
being,  to  the  Universal  Reason,  which  is  the  place  of  spirits  as 
space  is  the  place  of  bodies ;  the  other  relation  is  mediate  and 
contingent,  though  governed  by  general  laws,  a  relation  to  the 
body  and  through  it  to  other  bodies.  The  soul  can  therefore 
be  only  indirectly  assured  of  the  existence  of  bodies,  including 
its  own.  It  is  only  to  God  that  the  soul  is  immediately  united. 
Thus,  vision  in  God,  which  is  the  effect  of  the  constant  action 
of  God  upon  us,  or,  in  other  words,  of  the  connection  between 
our  reason  and  the  Universal  Eeason,  is  the  foundation  of  all 
certainty. 

Spinoza  :  In  so  far  as  it  possesses  Adequate  Ideas  the  Human 
Mind  is  one  with  the  Divine  Mind. 

To  say  :  "  by  substance  I  mean  that  which  is  in  itself  and 
is  conceived  through  itself.  ...  by  mode  I  mean  that 
which  exists  and  is  perceived  through  something  other  than 
itself,"  is  to  assume  that  things  have  existence  by  reason  of 
and  in  proportion  to  our  conception  of  them  ;  is  in  fact  to 
identify  Being  with  thought.  Thus  in  Spinoza  we  find  once 
more  the  principle  of  clear  ideas.  His  JZthics,  even  in  its 
external  form,  is  the  most  striking  application  of  this  theory. 

"  A  true  idea  (for  we  possess  a  true  idea)  is  something  different  from  its 
object  (ideatum).  Thus  a  circle  is  different  from  the  idea  of  a  circle 
(On  the  Improvement  of  the  Understanding,  trans,  by  Elwes,  p.  12).  A 
true  idea  must  correspond  with  its  ideate  or  object  (Eth.  Part  I,  ax.  VI). 
How  are  we  to  know  that  an  idea  corresponds  with  its  object  ?  For  such 
a  distinction  to  be  possible,  the  true  idea  must  be  recognized  by  intrinsic 
marks.  That  which  constitutes  the  reality  of  a  true  thought  must  be 


124  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

sought  in  the  thought  itself,  and  deduced  from  the  nature  of  the  under- 
standing. A  true  idea  is  distinguished  from  a  false  idea  not  so  much  by 
its  extrinsic  object  as  by  its  intrinsic  nature  .  .  .  whence  it  follows  that 
there  is  in  ideas  something  real  whereby  the  true  are  distinguished  from 
the  false  "  (On  the  Improvement  of  the  Understanding,  pp  25,  26). 

The  intrinsic  quality  of  a  true  idea  is  that  it  is  adequate. 
An  adequate  idea  is  one  that  is  in  God,  inasmuch  as  He  consti- 
tutes the  essence  of  the  human  soul.  When  an  idea  is  in  God, 
not  only  inasmuch  as  He  is  the  essence  of  the  human  soul, 
but  in  so  far  as  He  has  at  the  same  time  the  idea  of  another 
thing,  this  idea  is  only  partially  in  us,  in  other  words  it  is 
inadequate,.  It  is  precisely  in  this  privation  of  knowledge  that 
lies  the  falseness  of  ideas.  All  ideas  are  true  and  adequate  in 
God.  We  recognize  an  adequate  idea  in  that  it  is  clear  and 
distinct,  and  inadequate  in  that  it  is  mutilated  and  confused 
(Eth.  II,  35,  36).  As  the  adequate  idea  is  of  itself  true,  the 
criterion  of  the  truth  of  ideas  is  their  clearness  and 
distinctness.  "  Ideas  that  are  clear  and  distinct  can  never  be 
false " ;  but  this  is  because '  the  human  mind  is  in  their 
case  not  distinct  from  the  divine. 

The  clear  and  distinct  idea  not  only  excludes  fiction  and 
falseness,  but  doubt. 

"  In  proportion  as  the  understanding  is  smaller  and  its  experi- 
ence multiplex,  so  will  its  power  of  coining  fictions  be  larger,  whereas,  as 
the  understanding  increases,  its  capacity  for  entertaining  fictitious  ideas 
becomes  less  (On  the  Improvement  of  the  Understanding,  p.  21).  If  there  be 
a  God  or  omniscient  Being,  such  an  one  cannot  form  fictitious  hypotheses. 
.  .  .  Fiction  cannot  be  concerned  with  eternal  truths  (Ibid.  p.  19).  .  .  . 
We  need  therefore  be  in  no  fear  of  forming  hypotheses  as  long  as  we  have 
a  clear  and  distinct  perception  of  what  is  involved  "  (Ibid.  p.  23). 

The  clear  and  distinct  idea  also  excludes  doubt,  because 
doubt  is  merely  the  result  of  two  confused  ideas  which  contradict 
each  other.  A  true  idea  carries  with  it  immediate  certitude. 

"  He  who  has  a  true  idea  knows  at  the  same  time  that  he  has  a  true 
idea,  nor  can  he  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the  thing  (The  Ethics,  Prt.  II, 
Prop.  43).  .  .  .  What  can  there  be  more  clear  and  more  certain  than 
a  true  idea  as  a  standard  of  truth  ?  Even  as  light  displays  both  itself 
and  darkness,  so  is  truth  a  standard  both  of  itself  and  of  falsity 
{Ibid.  note).  .  .  .  Our  mind,  in  so  far  as  it  perceives  things  truly,  is  part 
of  the  infinite  intellect  of  God  ;  therefore,  the  clear  and  distinct  ideas 
of  the  mind  are  as  necessarily  true  as  the  ideas  of  God  (Ibid.).  .  .  . 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  125- 

No  one  can  know  the  nature  of  the  highest  certainty  unless  he  possesses 
an  adequate  idea  or  the  subjective  essence  of  a  thing  ;  for  certainty  is 
identical  with  such  subjective  essence"  (On  the  Improvement  of  the  Under- 
standing, p.  13). 

Holding  such  a  theory,  Spinoza  had  naturally  no  sympathy 
with  the  sceptics.  If  a  clear  idea  carries  certitude  along  with 
it,  lack  of  certitude  comes  from  the  absence  of  any  clear  idea ;. 
and  as  it  is  the  nature  of  the  understanding  to  have  clear  ideas, 
the  sceptic  is  by  this  same  fact  relegated  to  the  order  of  brutes. 
The  sceptic  requires  proof  of  proof  ad  inftnitum. 

"  To  this  I  make  answer  that,  if  b}7  some  happy  chance  anyone  had 
adopted  this  method  in  his  investigations  of  nature — that  is,  if  he  had 
acquired  new  ideas  in  the  proper  order,  according  to  the  standard  of 
the  original  true  idea,  he  would  never  have  doubted  the  truth  of  his  know- 
ledge, inasmuch  as  tfuth,  as  we  have  shown,  makes  itself  manifest,  and 
knowledge  of  all  things  would  flow  as  it  were  spontaneously  towards- 
him  "  (Ibid.  p.  16). 

The  Ethics  is,  in  fact,  Spinoza's  reply  to  scepticism.  It 
reproduces  the  order  of  nature  and  thus  makes  doubt  impossible. 

"If  there  yet  remains  some  sceptic  who  doubts  of  our  primary 
truth,  and  of  all  the  deductions  we  make,  taking  such  truth  as  our 
standard,  he  must  either  be  arguing  in  bad  faith,  or  we  must  confess 
that  there  are  some  men  in  complete  mental  blindness,  either  innate 
or  due  to  misconceptions.  .  .  .  With  such  persons  one  should  not  speak 
of  sciences.  ...  If  they  deny,  grant,  or  gainsay,  they  know  not  that 
they  deny,  grant,  or  gainsay,  so  that  they  ought  to  be  regarded  as 
automatics  utterly  devoid  of  intelligence"  (Ibid.  p.  17). 

Leibnitz :  Intuitive,  Demonstrative,  and  Sensible  Certitude. 

Leibnitz  distinguishes  three  kinds  of  knowledge,  the  intuitive, 
the  demonstrative,  and  the  sensible  {New  Essays,  IV,  2), 
and  he  attributes  certitude  to  these  three  kinds,  which  he 
calls  certain  knowledge,  in  contrast  to  probable  knowledge 
(Ibid.  14).  Thus  there  are  three  kinds  of  certitude,  the  intuitive,, 
the  demonstrative,  and  the  sensible. 

Intuitive  certitude  comprises  two  classes  of  truths  :  primary 
truths  of  fact,  and  primary  truths  of  reason,  both  of  which 
are  immediately  known.  Primary  truths  of  fact  are  the 
result  of  an  immediate  inner  experience :  e.g.  the  general 
proposition,  I  think,  therefore  I  am,  or  the  particular  proposi- 
tion, /  think  of  such  or  such  an  object. 


126  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

"  The  primary  truths  of  reason  are  those  which  I  call  by  the  general 
name  of  identical.  .  .  .  And  in  this  way  all  adequate  definitions  contain 
primary  truths  of  reason,  and  consequently  intuitive  knowledge"  {New 
Essays,  IV,  ii,  1).  "  Now  this  intuition  which  makes  known  our  existence  to 
ourselves  makes  it  known  to  us  with  an  evidence  complete,  incapable  of 
being  proved,  and  having  no  need  of  proof  :  so  that  even  when  I  attempt  to 
doubt  all  things  this  doubt  itself  does  not  allow  me  to  doubt  my  own 
existence "  (IV,  ix,  3).  "  Truths  of  reason  are  necessary,  and  those  of 
fact  are  contingent.  .  .  .  You  see  by  this  that  all  primary  truths  of 
reason  or  of  fact  have  this  in  common,  that  they  cannot  be  proved  by  any- 
thing more  certain  "  (IV,  ii,  1).  "  And  I  add  that  the  immediate  apper- 
ception of  our  existence  and  of  our  thoughts  furnishes  us  the  first  truths 
a  posteriori,  or  of  fact,  i.e.  the  first  experiences ;  just  as  identical  proposi- 
tions contain  the  first  truths  a  priori,  or  of  reason,  i.e.  the  first  lights  (les 
premieres  lumieres).  Both  are  incapable  of  proof,  and  may  be  called 
immediate,  the  former  because  of  the  immediate  relation  of  the  under- 
standing and  its  object,  the  latter  because  of  the  knmediate  relation  of 
the  subject  and  the  predicate  "  (IV,  ix,  2). 

Demonstrative  certainty  can  be  reduced  to  intuitive  cer- 
tainty. The  act  by  which  we  draw  a  conclusion  is  a  simple 
act  of  intuition  which  involves  in  a  single  apperception  both 
premisses  and  conclusion.  Demonstrative  certainty  is  merely 
intuitive  certainty  applied  to  the  relation  between  propositions 
instead  of  to  a  single  truth. 

There  remains  sensible  certainty.  "  We  know  our  own 
existence  by  intuition,  that  of  God  by  demonstration,  and 
that  of  other  objects  through  sensation "  (Ibid.  IV,  ix,  2). 
That  we  have  in  sensation  the  idea  of  an  object  external  to 
•ourselves  is  incontestable.  The  question  is  whether  we  have 
the  right  to  trust  this  instinctive  belief.  According  to 
Leibnitz,  sensible  knowledge,  as  well  as  the  other  kinds  of 
knowledge,  gives  certainty.  But  again,  a  criterion  is  required 
to  distinguish  real  sensible  knowledge  from  the  illusions  of  our 
waking  hours  or  of  our  dreams.  This  criterion  cannot  be 
the  liveliness  of  the  representations. 

"  Although  feelings  are  wont  to  be  more  vivid  than  imagina- 
tions, it  is  nevertheless  a  fact  that  there  are  cases  where  imaginative 
persons  are  impressed  as  much,  or  perhaps  more,  by  their  imaginations 
than  others  are  by  the  truth  of  things.  So  that  I  think  the  true  criterion 
concerning  the  objects  of  the  senses  is  the  connection  of  the  phenomena, 
i.e.  the  connection  of  that  which  takes  place  in  different  places  and  times, 
and  in  the  experience  of  different  men  who  are  themselves  each  to  the 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  127 

others  very  important  phenomena  in  this  respect.  And  the  connection  of 
the  phenomena,  which  guarantees  the  truths  of  fact  in  respect  to  sensible 
things  outside  of  us,  is  verified  by  means  of  the  truths  of  reason  just  as 
the  phenomena  of  optics  are  explained  by  geometry"  (Ibid.  IV,  ii,  14). 

Sensible  certainty  rests  then  on  the  primary  truths  of 
reason  :  it  consists  of  inner  direct  experiences  subjected  to 
the  law  of  rational  truth,  and  is  thus  a  form  of  intuitive 
certainty.  Leibnitz,  like  all  the  Cartesians,  does  not  allow  any 
direct  value  to  sensible  certainty.  Whether  the  union  of  the 
soul  and  the  body  is  due  to  the  laws  of  occasional  causes  or  to 
a  pre-established  harmony,  we  must  always  go  back  to  the 
Author  of  these  laws  for  a  guarantee  of  the  existence  of  a 
reality  external  to  ourselves. 

"...  Our  thoughts  come  to  us  from  the  depths  of  our  own  nature, 
other  creatures  being  unable  to  have  an  immediate  influence  upon  the 
soul.  Besides,  the  ground  of  our  certitude  in  regard  to  universal  and 
eternal 'truths  is  in  the  ideas  themselves  .  .  .  and  the  basis  of  the  truth  of 
contingent  and  singular  things  is  in  the  succession,  which  causes  these 
phenomena  of  the  senses  to  be  rightly  united  as  the  intelligible  truths 
demand  (IV,  iv,  5).  It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  none  of  this 
certitude  is  of  the  highest  degree.  .  .  .  For  it  is  not  impossible,  meta- 
physically speaking,  that  our  knowledge  may  be  a  continuous  dream 
lasting  as  long  as  life  ;  but  it  is  a  thing  as  contrary  to  reason  as  would  be 
the  idea  of  a  book  put  together  by  chance,  by  throwing  the  type  pell- 
mell  "  (IV,  ii,  14). 

Sensible  certainty  rests  ultimately  on  rational  certainty, 
on  the  harmony  between  phenomena  and  the  requirements 
of  reason.  "  The  truth  of  sensible  things  is  justified  by 
their  connection,  which  depends  upon  the  intellectual  truths 
grounded  in  reason  and  upon  constant  observations  of  the 
sensible  things  themselves,  even  when  the  reasons  do  not 
appear  "  (Ibid,  xi,  10). 

Berkeley  attempts  to  re-establish  Sensible  Certainty. 

Berkeley  desired  to  avoid  scepticism ;  in  fact  his  Idealism 
(or  rather  Immaterialism)  was  the  result  of  his  attempt 
to  do  so. 

"  That  there  is  no  such  thing  as  what  philosophers  call  material  substance 
I  am  seriously  persuaded  ;  but  if  I  were  made  to  see  anything  absurd  or 
sceptical  in  this  I  should  then  have  the  same  reason  to  renounce  this  that 
'I  imagine  I  have  now  to  reject  the  contrary  opinion  "  (1st  Dial.  Hylas  and 
Phil ). 


128  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

The  originality  of  Berkeley  consisted  in  his  denying  the 
existence  of  matter,  in  order  to  restore  to  sensible  certainty 
its  full  authority. 

"  When  therefore  they  [sensible  things]  are  actually  perceived  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  their  existence.  Away,  then,  with  all  that  scepticism, 
all  those  ridiculous  philosophical  doubts.  What  a  jest  is  it  for  a 
philosopher  to  question  the  existence  of  sensible  things  till  he  hath  it 
proved  from  the  veracity  of  God ;  or  to  pretend  our  knowledge  in  this 
point  falls  short  of  intuition  or  demonstration  !  I  might  as  well  doubt 
of  my  own  being,  as  of  the  being  of  those  things  I  actually  see  and  feel. 
...  I  do  therefore  assert  that  I  am  as  certain  as  of  my  own  being,  that 
there  are  bodies  or  corporal  substances  (meaning  the  things  I  perceive 
by  my  senses)  "  (3rd  Dialogue). 

Here  Berkeley  attacks  an  opinion  which  was  common  to  all 
Cartesians,  namely,  that  the  existence  of  mind  is  more  certain 
than  the  existence  of  bodies.  The  knowledge  we  acquire 
through  our  senses  is  as  certain  and  as  immediate  as  that 
given  to  us  by  consciousness. 

Even  the  existence  of  God  he  founds  on  sensible  knowledge, 

"  To  me  it  is  evident  for  two  reasons  you  allow  of,  that  sensible  things 
cannot  exist  otherwise  than  in  a  mind  or  spirit.  Whence  I  conclude,  not 
that  they  have  no  real  existence  but  that,  seeing  they  depend  not  on  my 
thought  and  have  an  existence  distinct  from  being  perceived  by  me, 
there  must  be  some  other  mind  wherein  they  exist.  As  sure,  therefore,  as 
the  sensible  world  really  exists,  so  sure  is  there  an  infinite  omnipresent 
Spirit,  who  contains  and  supports  it "  (2nd  Dialogue). 

Thus  Berkeley  reverses  the  order  adopted  in  the  Cartesian 
school.  Sensible  certainty  is  not  founded  on  divine  veracity ; 
it  is,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  veracity  of  our  senses  that  the 
existence  of  God  is  founded.  We  have  only  two  kinds  of 
certainty :  intuitive  or  immediate  certainty,  which  comprises 
the  data  of  sense  as  well  as  those  of  consciousness,  and 
demonstrative  or  mediate  certainty  which  is  based  on  the 
former.  In  this  way  Berkeley  reconciles  his  Idealism  (or 
Immaterialism)  with  a  firm  belief  in  the  veracity  of  our 
senses  ;  his  Idealism  is  in  fact  intended  to  guarantee  their 
veracity.  If  he  rejects  the  existence  of  a  material  sub- 
stance, if  he  makes  the  reality  of  things  lie  in  ideas,  it 
is  because  the  opposite  theory  inevitably  ends  in  scepticism. 
"  Can  you  produce  so  much  as  one  argument  against  the 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CEETITUDE  129 

reality  of  corporeal  things,  or  in  behalf  of  that  avowed  utter 
ignorance  of  their  natures,  which  does  not  suppose  their 
reality  to  consist  in  an  external  absolute  existence  ?  Upon 
this  supposition,  indeed,  the  objections  from  the  change  of 
colours  in  a  pigeon's  neck  or  the  appearance  of  the  broken 
oar  in  the  water,  must  be  allowed  to  have  weight "  (3rd  Dial.). 

Empirical  Scepticism  of  Hume  ;    Theory  of  Belief. 

Locke  had  not  considered  what  might  be  the  ultimate 
consequences  of  his  empirical  theory  of  human  knowledge. 
His  good  sense  made  all  extremes  repugnant  to  him.  He 
had  accepted  certainty  as  a  fact,  and  based  it  entirely  upon 
intuitive  knowledge. 

"  This  part  of  knowledge  is  irresistible,  and  like  bright  sunshine  forces 
itself  immediately  to  be  perceived  as  soon  as  ever  the  mind  turns  its  view 
that  way  ;  and  leaves  no  room  for  hesitation,  doubt,  or  examination,  but 
the  mind  is  presently  filled  with  the  clear  light  of  it.  It  is  on  this 
intuition  that  depend  all  the  certainty  and  evidence  of  all  our  knowledge, 
which  certainty  everyone  finds  to  be  so  great  that  he  cannot  imagine,  and 
therefore  does  not  require,  a  greater  ;  for  a  man  cannot  conceive  himself 
capable  of  a  greater  certainty  than  to  know  that  any  idea  in  his  mind  ia 
such  as  he  perceives  it  to  be  ;  and  that  two  ideas,  wherein  he  perceives  a 
difference,  are  different  and  not  precisely  the  same.  He  that  demands  a 
greater  certainty  than  this,  demands  he  knows  not  what,  and  shows  only 
that  he  has  a  mind  to  be  a  sceptic,  without  being  able  to  be  so  "  (Locker 
On  the  Human  Understanding,  IV,  II,  1). 

Hume,  with  the  boldness  of  a  true  philosopher,  draws  the 
sceptical  inferences  which  are  logically  implied  in  empiricism, 
He  carried  on  Berkeley's  analytic  method  and  founded 
modern  scepticism.  Like  Berkeley,  he  accepts  all  that  is 
immediately  revealed  to  us  by  our  senses,  and  nothing 
more.  Because  our  direct  experience  never  makes  known  to 
us  a  substratum  of  any  kind,  he  denies  the  existence  of  any 
substance,  either  spiritual  or  material,  and  reduces  to  a 
collection  of  sensations,  not  only  the  notion  of  matter,  but  also- 
that  of  mind.  Our  internal  like  our  external  experience 
gives  us  nothing  but  perceptions.  The  idea  of  an  ego  is- 
therefore  reducible  to  a  series  of  sensations.  There  is  then 
only  one  thing  regarding  which  certainty  is  possible,  namely ,. 
our  perceptions  and  the  relations  between  them,  and  certainty 
has  only  one  source,  namely,  our  immediate  experience, 
ii.  i 


130  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

"Now  since  nothing  is  ever  present  to  the  mind  but  perceptions,  and 
since  all  ideas  are  derived  from  something  antecedently  present  to  the 
mind,  it  follows  that  'tis  impossible  for  us  so  much  as  to  conceive  or  form 
an  idea  of  any  thing  specifically  different  from  ideas  and  impressions. 
Let  us  fix  our  attention  out  of  ourselves  as  much  as  possible :  let  us 
chase  our  imagination  to  the  heavens,  or  to  the  utmost  limits  of  the 
universe,  we  never  really  advance  a  step  beyond  ourselves,  nor  can  we 
conceive  any  kind  of  existence,  but  those  perceptions,  which  have 
appeared  in  that  narrow  compass.  This  is  the  universe  of  the  imagina- 
tion, nor  have  we  any  idea  but  what  is  there  produced"  (Treatise  of 
Human  Nature  ;  Of  the  Understanding,  Part  II,  Sect.  VI). 

But,  if  every  object  of  knowledge  can  be  reduced  by  critical 
reflection  into  impressions  and  ideas,  or  copies  of  impressions 
(see  Vol.  I,  Ch.  Ill,  Problem  of  External  Perception),  it  is 
certainly  not  in  that  form  that  the  human  mind  appears  to 
itself.  Hume  had  therefore  to  explain  how  thought  remains 
possible  on  his  hypothesis ;  how  it  is  that  we  do  not  attribute 
existence  equally  to  all  our  perceptions ;  how  fact  is  dis- 
tinguished from  fancy.  All  the  objects  to  which  we  apply 
our  reason  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds :  Relations  of  Ideas, 
and  Matters  of  Fact.  To  the  first  class  belong  the  mathematical 
sciences — geometry,  algebra,  etc.  Their  characteristic  is  that 
judgments  concerning  them  may  be  formed  by  the  operation  of 
the  mind  alone,  without  regard  to  what  takes  place  in  fact 
in  the  universe.  The  propositions  of  Euclid  remain  true 
whether  there  are  triangles  or  circles  in  the  natural  world 
or  not. 

As  regards  matters  of  fact,  the  imagination  can  always 
conceive  two  contrary  phenomena  as  possible,  because  such 
conceptions  are  not  self -contradictory.  The  judgment,  "  the 
sun  will  not  rise  to-morrow,"  is  as  intelligible  as  the  judgment, 
"  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow."  What  then,  beyond  the  actual 
testimony  of  our  senses,  is  the  nature  of  the  evidence  which 
shall  assure  us  of  the  real  existence  of  matters  of  fact  ?  All 
our  reasoning  concerning  matters  of  fact  is  based  on  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect ;  but  the  principle  of  causality  is 
nothing  else  than  habit. 

"After  the  constant  conjunction  of  two  objects,  heat  and  flame,  for 
instance,  weight  and  solidity,  we  are  determined  by  custom  alone  to 
expect  the  one  from  the  appearance  of  the  other.  This  hypothesis  seems 
even  the  only  one,  which  explains  the  difficulty  why  we  draw  from  a 


SCEPTICISM  AND   CERTITUDE  131 

thousand  instances  an  inference  which  we  are  not  able  to  draw  from  one 
instance,  that  is  in  no  respect  different  from  them.  Reason  is  incapable 
of  any  such  variation.  The  conclusions  which  it  draws  from  considering 
•one  circle  are  the  same  which  it  would  form  upon  surveying  all  the 
circles  in  the  universe.  .  .  .  Custom,  then,  is  the  great  guide  of  human 
life.  It  is  that  principle  alone  which  renders  our  experience  useful  to  us 
and  makes  us  expect  for  the  future,  a  similar  train  of  events  with  those 
which  have  appeared  in  the  past.  Without  the  influence  of  custom,  we 
should  be  entirely  ignorant  of  every  matter  of  fact,  beyond  what  i 
immediately  present  to  the  memory  and  senses.  .  .  .  Having  found,  in 
many  instances,  that  any  two  kinds  of  objects,  flame  and  heat,  snow  and 
cold,  have  always  been  conjoined  together  ;  if  flame  and  snow  be  pre- 
sented anew  to  the  senses  the  mind  is  carried  by  custom  to  expect  heat  or 
cold,  and  to  believe,  that  such  a  quality  does  exist,  and  will  discover  itself 
upon  a  nearer  approach.  ...  It  is  an  operation  of  the  soul,  when  we  are 
so  situated,  as  iinavoidable  as  to  feel  the  passion  of  love  when  we  receive 
benefits,  or  hatred,  when  we  meet  with  injuries.  All  these  operations 
are  a  species  of  natural  instincts  which  no  reasoning  or  process  of  thought 
and  understanding  is  able  either  to  produce  or  to  prevent "  (Inquiry 
concerning  the  Human  Understanding,  V,  1). 

We  are  now  able  to  determine  the  difference  between  fact 
and  fiction. 

"  'Tis  also  evident,  that  the  idea  of  existence  is  nothing  different  from 
the  idea  of  any  object,  and  that  when  after  the  simple  conception  of 
anything,  we  conceive  it  as  existent,  we  in  reality  make  no  addition  to  or 
alteration  on  our  first  idea.  .  .  .  But  as  'tis  certain  there  is  a  great 
difference  betwixt  the  simple  conception  of  the  existence  of  an  object 
and  the  belief  of  it,  and  as  this  difference  lies  not  in  the  parts  or  com- 
position of  the  idea  which  we  conceive,  it  follows  that  it  must  lie  in  the 
manner  in  which  we  conceive  it.  ^ .  .  So  that  as  belief  does  nothing  but 
vary  the  manner  in  which  we  conceive  any  object,  it  can  only  bestow  on 
our  ideas  an  additional  force  and  vivacity"  (Treatise  of  Human  Nature, 
Bk.  I,  Pt.  Ill,  7). 

Fact,  then,  is  only  distinguished  from  fiction  by  the  feeling 
which  accompanies  it.  The  difference  is  a  purely  subjective 
one. 

"  I  conclude,  by  an  induction  which  seems  to  me  very  evident,  that  an 
opinion  or  belief  is  nothing  but  an  idea,  that  is  different  from  a  fiction, 
not  in  the  nature  or  the  order  of  its  parts,  but  in  the  manner  of  its  being 
conceived.  But  when  I  would  explain  this  manner,  I  scarce  find  any  word 
that  fully  answers  the  case,  but  am  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  everyone's 
feeling.  .  .  .  An  idea  assented  to  feels  different  from  a  fictitious  idea, 
that  the  fancy  alone  presents  to  us.  And  this  different  feeling  I 


132  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

endeavour  to  explain  by  calling  it  a  superior  force,  or  vivacity,  or  solidity, 
or  firmness,  or  steadiness.  This  variety  of  terms,  which  may  seem  so- 
unphilosophical,  is  intended  only  to  express  that  act  of  the  mind,  which 
renders  realities  more  present  to  us  than  fictions,  causes  them  to  weigh 
more  in  the  thought,  and  gives  them  a  superior  influence  on  the  passions, 
and  imagination  "  (Ibid.  Appendix). 

In  the  case  of  an  actual  sensation,  its  liveliness,  which  is 
greater  than  that  of  images,  suffices  to  distinguish  it  from  a 
mere  illusion.  But  in  a  case  where  the  object  is  absent  am  I 
incapable  of  distinguishing  the  real  from  the  imaginary  ?  Am 
I  in  such  a  state  of  indetermination  as  to  expect  that  a  par- 
ticular object  may  be  followed,  indifferently,  by  any  other 
object  ?  The  future  is  not  indeterminate  any  more  than  the 
present,  nor  is  it  given  over  to  illusion ;  for  habit  and  the 
feeling  by  which  it  is  characterized  intervene.  When  I  throw 
a  piece  of  wood  into  the  fire,  I  expect  to  see  a  flame,  and 
I  believe  that  there  will  be  one. 

"  Belief  is  nothing  but  a  more  vivid,  lively,  forcible,  firm,  steady  con- 
ception of  an  object  than  what  the  imagination  alone  is  ever  able  to  attain. 
.  .  .  And  this  manner  of  conception  arises  from  a  customary  conjunc- 
tion of  the  object  with  something  present  to  the  memory  or  senses.  .  .  . 
Whenever  any  object  is  presented  to  the  memory  or  senses,  it  immedi- 
ately, by  the  force  of  custom,  carries  the  imagination  to  conceive  that 
object,  which  is  usually  conjoined  to  it ;  and  this  conception  is  attended 
with  a  feeling  or  sentiment,  different  from  the  loose  reveries  of  the  fancy  " 
(Inquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  V,  2). 

Thus  there  is  no  intrinsic  difference  between  the  real  and 
the  fictitious.  All  that  differs  is  our  inward  feeling.  We 
believe  some  things,  we  do  not  believe  others :  this  is  all  that 
can  be  said.  But  is  this  difference  of  feeling  justified  by  the 
nature  of  things  ?  We  cannot  know,  for  we  do  not  even  know 
whether  there  are  things.  Positive  knowledge  is  based  on  the 
principle  of  causality,  and  this  principle  is  only  a  habit  and 
merely  expresses  a  subjective  necessity ;  it  does  not  govern 
facts,  but  is  derived  from  them.  This  sceptical  analysis  might 
well  discourage  us,  if  nature  had  not  given  the  strength  of  an 
instinct,  or  of  a  mechanical  tendency,  to  this  belief.  "  Nature,  by 
an  absolute  and  uncontrollable  necessity  has  determined  us  to 
judge  as  well  as  to  breathe  and  feel.  .  .  .  Reasoning  and  belief 
is  some  sensation  or  peculiar  manner  of  conception,  which  'tis. 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  133 

impossible  for  mere  ideas  or  reflections  to  destroy  "  (Treatise, 
Bk.  I,  Part  IV,  Sect.  1). 

We  have  seen  that  Hume  separates  the  beliefs  founded  on 
intuition  from  those  based  on  demonstration,  or  the  relations  of 
ideas. 

"  With  regard  to  propositions  that  are  proved  by  intuition  or  demon- 
stration .  .  .  the  person  who  assents,  not  only  conceives  the  ideas, 
according  to  the  proposition,  but  is  necessarily  determined  to  conceive 
them  in  that  particular  manner,  either  immediately,  or  by  the  interposi- 
tion of  other  ideas.  .  .  .  Nor  is  it  possible  for  the  imagination  to  conceive 
anything  contrary  to  a  demonstration  "  (Ibid.  Part  III,  7). 

Our  belief  in  the  relations  of  ideas  is  also  a  subjective  feeling, 
but  it  has  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  necessity.  We  cannot 
conceive  the  contrary  of  mathematical  truths.  Nevertheless, 
there  are  reasons  for  doubting  them. 

"  Our  reason  must  be  considered  as  a  kind  of  cause,  of  which  truth  is 
the  natural  effect ;  but  such  a  one  as,  by  the  irruption  of  other  causes,  and 
by  the  inconstancy  of  our  mental  powers,  may  frequently  be  prevented. 
By  this  means  all  knowledge  degenerates  into  probability  ;  and  this 
probability  is  greater  or  less,  according  to  our  experience  of  the  veracity 
or  deceitfulness  of  our  understanding,  and  according  to  the  simplicity  or 
intricacy  of  the  question  "  (Ibid.  IV,  1). 

It  is  not  easy  to  see  how  Hume,  on  his  own  principles,  was 
justified  in  making  this  distinction  between  mathematical 
and  other  knowledge.  For,  on  the  empirical  hypothesis,  the 
former,  not  less  than  the  latter,  is  concerned  with  facts  alone. 
Stuart  Mill  had  only  to  show  by  his  theory  of  inseparable 
association  that  the  mathematical  definitions  and  axioms  are 
arrived  at  by  induction,  like  all  other  truths,  in  order  to  com- 
plete the  sceptical  work  of  Hume. 

In  modern  times  scepticism  has  taken  the  form  of  Pheno- 
menalism. According  td  this  doctrine,  certainty  is  merely  a 
subjective  state  of  the  mind.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
principle  of  thought.  We  have  only  mental  habits.  Our 
judgments  and  reasonings  are  happy  accidents,  facts  which  must 
not  be  analysed  too  closely,  lest  we  reduce  them  to  nothing. 
To  one  who  reflects,  certainty  would  be  impossible  even  as  a 
subjective  state,  were  not  the  force  of  nature  greater  than 
that  of  all  the  arguments  of  the  sceptics.  Knowledge  is  the 
result  of  our  past  experience,  which,  by  induction  we  project 


134  THE   PKOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

into  the  future.  As  for  this  induction  itself,  it  is  an  unex- 
plained mental  operation  which  is  instinctive  and  natural  to  us. 
But  the  human  mind  could  never  be  convinced  by  any  reason- 
ing from  the  principle  that,  "  Cases  we  have  not  experienced 
must  resemble  those  we  have  experienced." 

Kant :  Criterion  of  Truth ;  certitude,  Faith  and  Opinion ; 
Scientific  Certitude ;  Impossibility  of  Metaphysics ;  Moral  Faith. 

The  problem  of  knowledge  seemed  now  to  have  gone  back  to 
the  point  at  which  Greek  Philosophy  had  left  it.  Hume,  in 
fact,  alludes  to  the  sages  of  the  Academy  as  the  ideal  philo- 
sophers. The  great  Eationalistic  systems  of  Descartes  and 
Leibnitz  seemed,  like  those  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  long  ago, 
to  have  had  no  other  effect  than  to  provoke  a  more  lively 
reaction  on  the  part  of  scepticism.  One  thing,  however,  had, 
in  modern  times,  assumed  an  importance  which  it  did  not 
possess  in  antiquity.  For  two  centuries  science  had  been 
independent  of  philosophy,  and,  while  metaphysical  systems 
were  conflicting  with  and  superseding  one  another,  science  was 
progressing  with  a  continuous  development.  Here  was  a  fact 
which  scepticism  now  found  itself  obliged  to  take  into  account. 
The  arguments  which  the  ancients  and  Montaigne  based  on 
our  ignorance  of  natural  things,  now  appeared  childish  and 
superannuated.  Hume  dared  not  now  advocate  the  suspension 
of  judgment,  or  attack  the  results  of  science.  Science  could 
bid  defiance  to  scepticism,  for  it  had  success  on  its  side.  He 
who  would  offer  a  defence  and  a  guarantee  of  science  on 
philosophical  grounds  would  find  himself  supported  by  science 
itself.  Kant  recognized  this,  and  undertook  the  part.  He 
desired  to  escape  from  Hume's  scepticism,  and  to  give  science 
a  sure  basis  without  making  it  rest  on  metaphysical  dogmatism, 
which  seemed  fated  to  be  for  ever*  bringing  about  its  own 
destruction. 

Kant  applies  to  the  problem  of  certitude  his  distinction 
between  the  subject  and  the  object,  the  matter  and  the  form 
of  knowledge.  What  is  the  criterion  of  truth  ?  Shall  we 
find  it  in  the  object  of  knowledge  ? 

"Truth  is  said  to  consist  in  the  agreement  of  knowledge  with  the 
object.  .  .  .  Then  my  knowledge,  in  order  to  be  true,  must  agree 
with  the  object.  Now,  I  can  only  compare  the  object  with  my  knowledge 


SCEPTICISM  AND   CERTITUDE  135 

by  this  means,  namely,  by  taking  knowledge  of  it.  My  knowledge,  then, 
is  to  be  verified  by  itself,  which  is  far  from  being  sufficient  for  truth.  For 
as  the  object  is  external  to  me,  and  the  knowledge  is  in  me,  I  can  only 
judge  whether  my  knowledge  of  the  object  agrees  with  my  knowledge  of 
the  object.  Such  a  circle  in  explanation  was  called  by  the  ancients 
Diallelos,  and  the  logicians  were  accused  of  this  fallacy  by  the  sceptics, 
who  remarked  that  this  account  of  truth  was  as  if  a  man  before  a 
judicial  tribunal  should  make  a  statement  and  appeal  in  support  of  it  to 
a  witness  whom  no  one  knows,  but  who  defends  his  own  credibility  by 
saying  that  the  man  who  had  called  him  as  witness  was  an  honourable 
man.  The  charge  was  certainly  well  founded,  only  the  solution  of  the 
problem  referred  to  is  absolutely  impossible  for  any  man"  (Logic, 
Introd.  trans,  by  T.  K.  Abbott). 

Kant  shows  that  a  universal  material  criterion  of  truth  is 
not  only  impossible  but  self -contradictory ;  for  it  would  have  to 
abstract  from  every  difference  between  the  objects,  and  at  the 
same  time,  as  a  material  criterion,  serve  for  their  distinction. 
A  formal,  general  criterion,  on  the  other  hand,  immediately 
appears  as  possible. 

"  For  formal  truth  consists  simply  in  the  agreement  of  the  cognition 
with  itself  when  we  abstract  from  all  objects  whatever,  and  from  every 
distinction  of  objects.  And  hence  the  universal  formal  criteria  of  truth 
are  nothing  but  universal  logical  marks  of  the  agreement  of  cognitions 
with  themselves,  or  what  is  the  same  thing,  with  the  general  laws  of  the 
understanding  and  the  reason  "  (Ibid.  VII). 

Kant  sets  up  three  universal  and  purely  formal  or  logical 
criteria  of  truth  :  Firstly,  the  principle  of  contradiction  or  of 
identity,  which  determines  the  inner  possibility  of  knowledge 
in  problematical  judgments.  This  is  a  purely  negative  criterion  ; 
absence  of  contradiction  is  the  first  condition  of  the  truth 
of  a  statement,  but  it  is  not  the  only  condition.  Secondly, 
the  principle  of  sufficient  reason,  which  serves  as  a  basis  of 
the  (logical)  reality  of  &  knowledge,  in  other  "words,  which 
establishes  that  the  knowledge  is  well  founded  as  matter  of 
assertorial  judgments.  Thirdly,  the  principle  of  the  excluded 
middle,  which  is  the  foundation  of  the  logical  necessity  of  a 
judgment  and  which  establishes  that  we  must  necessarily 
judge  thus,  that  is  to  say,  that  the  contrary  is  false ;  this  is  the 
principle  of  apodictic  judgments. 

"  Truth  is  an  objective  property  of  knowledge  ;  but  the  judgment  by 
which  a  thing  is  thought  as  true — and  which  has  reference  to  under- 


136  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

standing,  and  therefore  to  a  special  thinking  subject — is  subjective  ;  it 
is  assent  (Fiirwahrhalteri).  Assent  in  general  is  of  two  kinds — certain  or 
uncertain.  Certain  assent,  or  certainty,  is  joined  with  consciousness  of 
necessity  ;  the  uncertain,  on  the  contrary,  or  uncertainty,  is  joined  with 
the  consciousness  of  contingency,  or  the  possibility  of  the  opposite.  The 
latter,  again,  is  either  subjectively  as  well  as  objectively  inadequate  ;  or  it 
is  objectively  inadequate,  but  subjectively  adequate.  The  former  must  be 
called  Opinion,  the  latter  Belief.  There  are,  then,  three  sorts  or  modes 
of  assent — Opinion,  Belief,  and  Knowledge.  Opinion  is  a  problematical, 
Belief  an  assertorial,  and  Knowledge  an  apodictic  judging.  For  what  I 
hold  merely  as  opinion,  this  in  judging  L  consciously  regard  as  only 
problematical ;  what  I  believe,  I  regard  as  assertorial,  not,  however,  as 
objectively,  but  as  subjectively  necessary  (valid  only  for  me)  ;  finally, 
what  I  know,  I  regard  as  apodictically  certain,  that  is  as  universally  and 
objectively  necessary  (valid  for  all).  .  .  .  ;Thus,  for  instance,  our 
assent  to  the  immortality  of  the  soul  would  be  merely  problematical,  in 
case  we  only  act  as  if  we  were  immortal  ;  assertorial,  in  case  we  believe 
that  we  are  immortal ;  and,  lastly,  apodictic,  in  case  we  all  knew  that 
there  is  another  life  after  this  "  {Ibid.  IX). 

Certainty,  that  is  to  say,  the  belief  that  flows  from  a 
subjectively  and  objectively  valid  principle  of  knowledge,  is 
either  empirical  or  rational  according  as  it  is  founded  on 
experience  or  on  reason.  Rational  or  a  priori  certainty  is  either 
mathematical  or  philosophical.  The  former  is  intuitive,  the 
latter  discursive.  Rational  certitude  is  distinguished  from 
empirical  by  the  consciousness  of  necessity.  One  is  apodictic 
and  the  other  assertorial.  "  We  are  rationally  certain  of  that 
which  even  without  experience  we  should  have  discerned 
a  priori.  Hence  it  is  possible  that  our  cognitions  may 
concern  objects  of  experience,  and  yet  their  certainty  may  be 
both  empirical  and  rational,  namely,  when  we  discern  from 
a  priori  principles  the  truth  of  a  proposition  which  is 
empirically  certain  (Ibid.  IX). 

Let  us  try  to  arrive  at  the  meaning  of  these  statements. 
If  we  attempt  to  compare  our  knowledge  with  its  object  we  are 
condemned  to  certain  failure,  for  how  can  the  object  known  be 
separated  from  the  thought  that  knows  it  ?  Thought  must 
therefore  be  its  own  guarantee.  We  have  no  universal  mate- 
rial criteria,  but  only  formal  criteria  of  truth.  The  principle 
of  contradiction  is  the  universal  principle  of  all  our  analytic 
judgments,  and  it  is  a  fully  sufficient  one.  This  principle  is, 
in  the  second  place,  a  universal  criterion  of  all  truth,  though  a 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  137 

purely  negative  one,  for  it  is  a  condition  of  all  our  judgments 
that  they  do  not  contradict  themselves.  But  a  judgment  may 
be  free  from  every  contradiction  and  yet  be  false  and  without 
any  foundation  (Transc.  Analyt.  II,  Sect.  1).  Here  we  come 
upon  a  difficulty  which  appears  to  be  insoluble.  We  can 
understand  that  a  formal  criterion,  such  as  the  principle  of 
contradiction,  will  assure  us  of  the  consistency  of  the  mind  with 
itself,  but  how  can  a  formal  criterion  have  any  objective 
value  ?  But  that  which  we  are  really  concerned  with  is  to 
attain  knowledge  of  the  world  which  is  presented  to  us  ;  and 
yet  if  we  hold  that  our  knowledge  must  adapt  itself  to  objects, 
we  cannot,  without  getting  outside  thought,  find  the  principles 
which  would  make  it  legitimate. 

There  remains,  however,  another  hypothesis :  let  us  sup- 
pose that  objects  adapt  themselves  to  our  knowledge.  The 
laws  of  thought  will  then  be  necessary  laws  of  phenomena,  and 
experience,  by  its  success,  continually  proves  and  verifies  the 
objective  value  of  these  laws.  For  what  in  the  last  resort 
was  our  aim  ?  It  was  to  obtain  a  knowledge  that  would  have 
a  universal  and  necessary  value,  a  knowledge  governed  by  laws 
which  impose  themselves  not  only  on  our  minds,  but  on 
all  minds,  and  on  the  objects  themselves,  so  far,  at  least, 
as  they  are  thought ;  and  this  is  precisely  what  the  principles 
of  the  understanding  give  us.  The  criterion  is  still  a  formal 
one,  but  although  it  is  not  material  it  is  now  objective.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  think  objects  outside  the 
categories  which  are  the  forms  of  our  understanding  and  the 
conditions  of  our  thought.  The  criterion  that  results  from  their 
application  to  phenomena  is  therefore  subjectively  sufficient. 
In  the  second  place,  the  principles  of  the  understanding 
express  not  only  the  laws  of  my  thought  but  of  all  thought ; 
they  are  the  forms  of  all  objective  knowledge  and  are 
universally  and  necessarily  valid  for  every  thinking  being. 
Hence  arises  the  agreement  between  all  minds,  which  consti- 
tutes the  unity  of  science  and  gives  an  objective  value  to  our 
knowledge ;  for  it  is  in  us  the  product  of  thought  operating 
according  to  general  laws,  and  not  of  thought  as  subjective 
and  individual. 

But  this  is  not  all :  phenomena  are  only  known  inasmuch  as 
we  subject  them  to  the  categories  of  the  understanding;  and  on 


138  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

the  other  hand,  these  a  priori  forms  are,  by  themselves,  empty, 
and  they  must  be  filled,  as  it  were,  by  the  phenomena  to  which 
they  give  unity.  This  is  the  condition  of  consciousness  itself, 
and  consequently  of  thought.  Hence  our  formal  criterion 
is  also  an  objective  criterion.  The  categories  have  objective 
value  because  they  serve  to  bind  phenomena  together,  because, 
without  them,  there  can  be  no  objects  for  thought.  Thought 
is  its  own  guarantee.  It  justifies  itself  by  reducing  the 
multiplicity  of  phenomena  to  the  unity  of  the  world  as  it 
appears  to  it.  Thought  is  objective  because  it  only  exists 
as  the  thought  of  a  world  which  without  it  would  crumble 
away  into  dust. 

"  Human  reason  -.  .  .  begins  with  principles  which,  in  the  course  of 
experience,  it  must  follow,  and  which  seem  sufficiently  confirmed  by 
experience  "  (Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Preface  to  1st  Edition.) 

"The  possibility  of  experience  is  then  that  which  gives  objective  reality 
to  all  our  a  priori  cognitions.  .  .  .  Experience  has  therefore  for  a  founda- 
tion, a  priori  principles  of  its  form,  that  is  to  say,  general  rules  of  unity 
in  the  synthesis  of  phenomena,  the  objective  reality  of  which  rules,  as 
necessary  conditions — even  of  the  possibility  of  experience,  can  always 
be  shown  in  experience"  (Grit,  of  Pure  Reason,  Analytic  of  Principles, 
Sect.  II). 

To  sum  up :  Kant  wished  to  provide  science  with  impregnable 
principles.  He  was  confronted  by  two  opposing  systems : 
empiricism,  which  ends  logically  in  the  scepticism  of  Hume, 
and  metaphysical  dogmatism,  which,  according  to  Kant,  being 
based  on  a  dialectical  illusion,  and  perpetually  reversed  or  modi- 
fied in  its  forms,  is  unable  to  furnish  a  stability  it  does  not  itself 
possess.  In  order  to  escape  from  scepticism  a  new  method  was 
needed,  namely,  the  Critical  method.  Knowledge  is  objective, 
and  not,  as  it  was  for  the  empiricists,  obtained  by  an  accident 
or  a  lucky  chance  ;  it  exists  of  necessity,  and  not  merely  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  The  a  priori  concepts  by  themselves  are  only 
a  form  ;  the  matter  of  knowledge  is  given  by  experience  alone  ; 
consequently  the  application  of  these  concepts  (cause,  substance, 
being)  to  objects  supposed  to  be  outside  experience  only  ends 
in  an  empty  show,  which  is  Metaphysics.  Certitude  is  only 
possible  through  intuitions,  which  are  either  a  priori  (mathe- 
matical) or  a  posteriori  (physical). 

Dogmatism  is  confidence  in  the  power  of  reason  to  extend  itself 
a  priori  by  means  of  mere  concepts  without  critical  examination, 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CEETITUDE  139 

a  method  which  can  have  only  apparent  success.  "In  mathematics 
and  physics  scepticism  has  no  place.  Only  that  branch  of  knowledge 
could  have  given  occasion  to  it,  which  is  neither  mathematical  nor 
empirical — the  purely  philosophical.  Absolute  scepticism  declares  that 
everything  is  semblance.  It  distinguishes  semblance  from  truth,  and 
must  therefore  possess  some  mark  by  which  it  makes  the  distinction. 
Consequently  it  must  pre-suppose  a  knowledge  of  truth,  and  thereby  it 
contradicts  itself"  (Log.  Introd.  X). 

Thus  the  principles  of  science  are  secure  in  their  foundations. 
It  would  be  misleading  to  say  that  Kant  was  a  sceptic.  In  one 
sense  his  whole  work  is  directed  against  scepticism,  and  tends 
to  defend  science  from  the  uncertainties  of  a  capricious  and 
shifting  dogmatism.  But  it  is  true,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he 
denies  us  the  knowledge  of  the  Absolute,  and  sees  in  the 
effort  to  make  a  science  of  metaphysics  only  a  natural  and  ever- 
recurring  illusion  of  the  human  mind. 

But  if  objective  certainty  belongs  to  the  science  of  phenomena 
alone,  for  truths  of  another  class  we  still  have  faith,  that 
is  to  say,  a  certitude  which  is  subjectively  sufficient,  though 
objectively  insufficient.  The  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  prepares 
the  way  for  faith  by  establishing  its  legitimacy.  If  we  have 
a  scientific  knowledge  of  phenomena  only,  we  know  nothing 
whatsoever  of  things  in  themselves,  of  noumena.  The  principle 
of  causality,  for  instance,  has  no  meaning  outside  the  world  of 
experience ;  we  may  therefore  accept  at  the  same  time 
determinism  in  the  world  of  phenomena  and  freedom  in  the 
world  of  noumena. 

"  I  must  therefore  abolish  knowledge  to  make  room  for  belief.  .  .  . 
Above  all  it  [i.e.  a  system  of  metaphysics  constructed  in  accordance  with  the 
Critique]  will  confer  an  inestimable  benefit  on  morality  and  religion,  by 
showing  that  all  the  objections  urged  against  them  may  be  silenced  for 
ever  by  the  Socratic  method,  that  is,  by  proving  the  ignorance  of  the 
objector  "  (Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Pref.  to  2nd  Edit.). 

Knowledge  is  valid  only  of  the  world  of  phenomena. 
Practical  reason  establishes  the  law  of  duty  in  an  a  priori 
way ;  but  this  law  has  consequences,  implies  postulates,  which 
cannot  be  verified  in  the  present  world  and  yet  must  be 
admitted,  because  we  have  not  the  right  to  give  up  the  notion 
of  duty.  Thus,  on  the  one  side  we  have  the  wTorld  of 
knowledge,  and  on  the  other  the  world  of  moral  faith,  and 


140  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

there  is  no  contradiction   between  them    since  they    do    not 
belong  to  the  same  order. 

"Belief  ...  is  a  free  assent  which  is  only  necessary  in  a  practical 
•a  priori  point  of  view  ;  an  assent,  therefore,  to  that  which  I  assume 
from  moral  grounds,  and  so  that  I  am  certain  that  the  opposite  can 
never  be  proved.  ...  I  see  myself  compelled  by  my  end,  following 
laws  of  freedom,  to  suppose  that  a  supreme  good  in  the  world  is  possible, 
but  I  cannot  compel  any  others  by  reasons  (belief  is  free). 

"  Rational  belief,  then,  can  never  reach  to  theoretical  knowledge.  It 
is  only  a  supposition  of  the  reason  in  a  subjective  but  absolutely  neces- 
sary practical  point  of  view.  The  mental  disposition  which  accords 
with  moral  laws  leads  to  an  object  of  elective  will,  determinable  by 
pure  reason.  The  assumption  of  the  feasibility  of  this  object,  and 
therefore  also  of  the  actuality  of  its  cause,  is  a  moral  or  free  belief, 
and  in  the  moral  point  of  view  of  the  fulfilment  of  its  end  it  is  a 
necessary  assent.  .  .  .  That  man  is  morally  unbelieving  who  does  not 
accept  that  which,  though  impossible  to  know  is  morally  necessary  to 
suppose.  A  want  of  moral  interest  always  lies  at  the  root  of  this  kind 
of  unbelief.  The  higher  the  moral  character  of  a  man  the  more  firm 
and  vivid  will  be  his  belief  in  everything  which  he  feels  himself  com- 
pelled from  moral  interest  to  accept  or  suppose  in  a  practically  neces- 
sary point  of  view.  .  .  .  Belief,  therefore,  on  account  of  its  merely 
subjective  reasons,  does  not  give  a  conviction  that  can  be  communicated 
to  others,  or  command  universal  assent,  like  the  conviction  that  comes 
from  knowledge.  Only  I  myself,  can  be  certain  of  the  validity  and 
unchangeableness  of  my  practical  belief  ;  and  my  belief  in  the  truth 
of  a  proposition  or  the  actuality  of  a  thing,  is  that  which  in  relation 
to  me  takes  the  place  of  a  cognition  without  being  itself  a  cognition. 
Complete  assent  from  subjective  reasons  which,  for  practical  purposes, 
are  as  valid  as  objective,  is  also  conviction,  only  not  logical  but 
practical  (I  am  certain).  And  this  practical  conviction,  a  inoral  rational 
belief,  is  often  firmer  than  any  knowledge"  (Logic,  Introd.  IX.) 

To  sum  up :  objective  certitude,  according  to  Kant,  is  found 
only  in  knowledge  that  is  based  on  the  necessary  agreement 
of  minds  with  one  another  and  with  phenomena.  But  the 
world  of  noumena,  being  unknown  to  us,  allows  of  the 
hypotheses  which  faith  supplies.  These  hypotheses  are  not 
arbitrary,  but  depend  upon  subjective  necessities ;  and  are  the 
consequences  of  the  principle  of  practical  reason,  which  is 
the  law  of  duty.  It  is  no  doubt  impossible  to  verify  these 
hypotheses,  to  show  their  realization  in  facts ;  they  have 
therefore  no  objective  certainty,  but  we  have  no  more  right 
to  give  them  up  than  to  give  up  duty,  of  which  they  (free- 


SCEPTICISM  AND   CERTITUDE  141 

doin,  immortality,  and  God)  are  the  postulates ;  and  hence 
they  have  a  certainty  of  a  peculiar  character, — moral  faith, 
which  is  as  much  a  thing  of  will  as  of  intellect. 

Positivism  luis  no  Philosophical  Value  unless  it  is  founded 
on  Kant's  Criticism :  Herbert  Spencers  Inconsistencies. 

In  opposition  to  scepticism  and  dogmatism  and  with  the 
result  of  destroying  both  in  so  far  as  they  claimed  to  be 
absolute,  Kant  founded  a  new  method,  namely,  the  Critical 
method.  Criticism  came  between  science  and  metaphysics, 
presenting  itself  as  the  only  possible  philosophy,  which 
ensured  certitude  for  science,  and  reduced  metaphysics  to 
an  empty  show.  Positivism  seized  upon  this  distinction ;. 
and  in  this  respect  is  an  offshoot  of  the  Kantian  system. 
For  the  Positivists  put  the  theories  of  Kant  into  practice,, 
saying  that  science  alone  is  certain,  and  that  it  is  with 
science  alone  that  we  should  occupy  ourselves.  We  only 
know  facts  and  their  laws ;  metaphysics  is  an  illusion  which 
criticism  has  undertaken,  once  for  all,  to  dispel,  or  at  least 
to  warn  us  against,  and  we  cannot  again  return  to  it. 

Positivism  is  not  only  an  application  of  the  Kantian  idea,  but 
it  could  not  have  existed  without  the  support  of  the  Critique. 
It  was  owing  to  Kant  that  Positivism  was  able  to  associate 
itself  with  science,  while  renouncing  all  Philosophy;  before  Kant 
Positivism  might  have  been  possible,  but  it  could  not  have 
justified  itself.  The  human  mind  may  exercise  its  speculative 
activity  in  three  domains :  those  of  metaphysics,  criticism,  and 
positive  science ;  but  metaphysics  exists  only  as  an  illusion  to 
be  dispelled — a  task  which  Criticism  performed,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  established  the  principles  of  science.  The  task 
of  Criticism  being  completed,  there  remains  to  us  only  positive 
science,  which  has  an  indefinite  province  wherein  it  may  ex- 
tend its  conquests  in  all  security.  Hence  we  must  be  scepti- 
cal as  regards  metaphysics,  dogmatical  as  regards  science. 

Thus  Positivism  is  an  unconscious  development  of  Kant's 
conception ;  and  it  is  the  only  form  of  scepticism  that  remains 
possible.  The  ancients  confounded  philosophy  with  science. 
The  sceptics,  down  to  Montaigne,  questioned  the  possibility 
of  all  science ;  but  gradually  science  separated  itself  from 
philosophy,  and  took  a  place  apart.  With  Descartes  and 


142  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Leibnitz  it  was  still,  at  least  in  its  principles,  dependent  on 
metaphysics,  but  with  Kant  the  separation  became  complete ; 
metaphysics  on  the  one  side,  and  science  on  the  other,  were 
respectively  synonymous  with  illusion  and  certitude.  Scepticism 
invaded  one  and  respected  the  other,  destroying  metaphysics 
only  to  make  science  more  secure ;  in  theory  it  became 
Criticism,  in  practice  Positivism.  It  was,  therefore,  only 
because  it  mistook  its  own  interests  that  Positivism  could 
ally  itself  with  Empiricism ;  for  Empiricism  deprives  it  of 
every  guarantee,  and  leaves  it  without  any  support.  Hume 
had  said  the  last  word  of  this  doctrine.  In  Criticism 
something  absolute  remains,  namely,  the  laws  of  the  under- 
standing ;  in  Empiricism  everything  is  accidental,  probability 
takes  the  place  of  truth,  and  this  unwarranted  probability 
destroys  itself  the  moment  it  begins  to  reflect  on  its  own 
conditions. 

But  Positivism  has  not  always  been  content  to  profit  by 
the  results  of  the  Kantian  criticism  without  questioning  them. 
In  his  First  Principles  Herbert  Spencer  endeavours  to  present 
knowledge  as  a  whole,  in  a  systematic  form,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  justify  the  relinquishment  of  all  metaphysics. 
Metaphysics,  he  says,  has  the  unknowable  for  its  object,  and 
only  exists  as  a  natural  disposition ;  science  is  of  the  knowable 
and  the  certain. 

Herbert  Spencer's  criticism  is  both  formal  and  material ;  on 
the  one  hand  he  proves,  by  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge, 
the  formal  impossibility  of  conceiving  the  Absolute ;  on  the 
other  hand,  he  examines  and  exposes  the  nullity  of  the  meta- 
physical conceptions.  This  double  criticism  is  governed  by 
one  principle :  That  which  is  logically  inconceivable  is  false  ; 
the  criterion  of  truth  is  the  inconceivability  of  the  contrary. 
This  criterion  is  applied  in  the  positive  part  of  his  work  (the 
sphere  of  the  knowable).  All  the  principles  of  science  are 
reduced  to  one  supreme  law,  the  law  of  the  persistence  of 
force.  This  principle  is  undemonstrable,  and  must  be  so, 
for  it  is  the  basis  of  all  scientific  demonstration ;  but  it 
cannot  be  denied  without  contradiction :  it  appears  to  us 
as  necessary,  therefore  it  is  true. 

"  There  must  exist  some  principle  which,  as  being  the  basis  of  science, 
•cannot  be  established  by  science.     All  reasoned-out  conclusions  whatever 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  143 

must  rest  on  some  postulate.  As  before  shown  we  cannot  go  on  merging 
derivative  truths  in  those  wider  and  wider  truths  from  which  they  are 
derived,  without  reaching  at  last  a  widest  truth  which  can  be  merged  in 
no  other,  or  derived  from  no  other.  And  whoever  contemplates  the 
relation  in  which  it  stands  to  the  truths  of  scfence  in  general,  will  see 
that  this  truth  transcending  demonstration  is  the  persistence  of  force. 

"  By  the  persistence  of  force,  we  really  mean  the  persistence  of  some 
cause  which  transcends  our  knowledge  and  conception.  In  asserting  it 
we  assert  an  unconditioned  reality,  without  beginning  or  end "  {First 
Principles,  p.  192). 

Here  Herbert  Spencer  forgets  his  own  empiricism  :  no  repeti- 
tion of  experiences,  whether  of  the  individual  or  of  the  species, 
can  explain  the  absolute  universality  and  necessity  attributed 
by  him  to  this  principle.  It  is  a  return  to  the  a  priorism  of 
Kant.  Spencer  establishes  determinism  a  priori ! 

Another  contradiction  is  implied  in  Herbert  Spencer's 
system :  if  the  inconceivability  of  the  contrary  is  the  criterion 
of  truth,  how  can  science  lead  to  the  affirmation  of  the 
existence  of  an  Absolute  (i.e.  permanent  force)  when  the  formal 
criterion  of  knowledge  has  proved  the  inconceivability  of  the 
Absolute  ?  Spencer,  it  is  true,  makes  a  distinction,  which  he 
has  borrowed  from  Kant  (Log.  Introd.  V),  between  definite  and 
indefinite  consciousness,  that  is,  between  the  logical  and  the 
psychological ;  but  the  contradiction  remains  nevertheless. 
Are  we  to  refer  this  Absolute  to  our  definite  or  to  our 
indefinite  consciousness  ?  Herbert  Spencer  does  not  tell  us, 
and  this  indecision  deprives  his  criterion  of  all  value.  For, 
can  both  the  inconceivability  of  the  Absolute  and  the  necessity 
of  conceiving  it  be  logically  proved  at  the  same  time  ?  The 
Absolute  was  to  be  inconceivable,  and  yet  we  cannot  deny 
it  without  affirming  it.  In  its  too  anxious  endeavour  to 
be  profound,  Herbert  Spencer's  positivism,  like  his  empiricism, 
falls  into  self-contradiction.  It  is  at  bottom  an  unconscious 
return  to  dogmatism. 

Conclusion. 

One  thing  is  certain :  the  scepticism  of  ancient  times 
is  now  a  matter  of  past  history.  In  our  time  there  are 
no  Pyrrhonians ;  no  one  dreams  of  contesting  the  possibility 
of  the  mathematical  or  physical  sciences ;  no  one  proposes  that 
man  should  suspend  his  judgment  concerning  all  things. 


144  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Ancient  scepticism  has  been  replaced  by  two  systems,  both 
of  which  claim  to  have  marked  out  the  limits  of  thought, 
and  to  have  done  so  with  the  object  of  denning  the  domain 
in  which  its  activity  may  be  exercised  with  fruitful  results. 
Empiricism  professes  to  represent  science,  and  to  employ  in 
the  study  of  the  phenomena  of  thought,  the  methods  that  have 
been  so  fruitful  in  the  study  of  natural  phenomena.  One  may 
say,  it  is  true,  that  "  scepticism  is  the  natural  and  ever- 
reappearing  fruit  of  empiricism,"  since  all  our  principles  have 
in  the  last  resort  no  better  basis  than  subjective  habit.  "  But 
because  we  have  the  habit  of  associating  in  a  certain  order 
the  images  of  our  past  sensations,  does  it  follow  that  our 
future  sensations  must  succeed  each  other  in  the  same 
order  ?  .  .  .  What  the  empiricists  call  thought,  in  opposition 
to  nature,  is  only  a  collection  of  impressions  continued  beyond 
the  moment,  and  growing  ever  more  faint ;  and  to  look  for 
the  secret  of  the  future  in  what  is  only  a  vain  image  of  the 
past,  is  to  undertake  to  discover  in  a  dream  what  is  to  happen 
to  us  when  we  are  awake "  (J.  Lachelier,  Le  Fond,  de 
V Induction,  pp.  29,  30).  But  the  empiricists  deny  that  their 
doctrine  leads  to  these  extreme  consequences :  it  is  their 
opponents  that  accuse  them  of  rendering  science  impossible, 
while  they  pride  themselves  in  being  its  only  authorised 
representatives  amongst  the  philosophers. 

Criticism  provides  a  reply  to  the  two  great  arguments  of 
the  ancient  sceptics.  These  attacked  logical  certitude  in  the 
name  of  the  necessity  of  proving  everything,  and  objective 
certitude  in  the  name  of  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge.  To 
the  former  argument,  Kant  answers,  like  Aristotle,  that  every- 
thing is  not  demonstrable,  because  everything  does  not  require 
demonstration ;  but  he  adds  to  the  value  of  his  reply  by  his 
clearer  indication  of  a  priori  knowledge.  To  their  second 
argument  Kant  replies  by  making  use  of  their  own  thesis,  the 
relativity  of  knowledge.  No  doubt  our  knowledge  is  relative, 
but  it  is  relative  to  principles  that  are  universal,  and  necessary, 
and  valid  for  every  thinking  being.  In  this  sense  it  has  all 
the  objective  validity  we  can  require  of  it.  It  does  not  refer 
to  the  nature  of  things,  but  only  to  phenomena  and  their 
'  relations.  The  Absolute  eludes  us  indeed,  but  if  Metaphysics 
is  given  over  to  scepticism,  Science  is  not. 


SCEPTICISM  AND  CERTITUDE  145 

As  we  have  seen  by  the  example  of  Herbert  Spencer,  it  is 
difficult  not  to  go  from  empiricism  to  criticism.  But  can 
Criticism  itself  claim  to  have  said  the  last  word  concerning 
science  ?  It  would  seem  not,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  out  of  I 
Criticism  there  arose  in  Germany  the  boldest  dogmatism  the  1 
world  has  yet  seen.  Kant's  great  merit  is  that  he  transferred 
the  problem  to  the"  nature  and  the  conditions  of  thought ;  but 
the  reflection  on  thought  to  which  this  point  of  view  invites 
us,  at  the  same  time  furnishes  principles  which  permit  us  to 
go  beyond  it  (see  F.  Eavaisson,  Rapport  sur  le  prix  Victor 
Cousin). 


ii. 


CHAPTER  II 
MATTER 

METAPHYSICS  is  the  science  of  first  principles  and  of  first  causes 
(Arist.  Met.  I,  1,  Oh.  II).  It  reaches  back  to  principles  which 
pre-suppose  no  further  principles,  and  to  the  cause,  or  causes, 
which  have  no  other  cause.  Whatever  their  particular  theories 
may  have  been,  those  philosophers  who  professed  to  reduce  the 
universe  to  its  principles  of  existence  have  had  to  account  for 
the  unity  and  diversity  revealed  to  us  by  the  observation  of 
phenomena.  The  one  and  the  many,  activity  and  passivity, 
perfection  and  limitation,  are  everywhere  found  mingled  in  the 
world,  which  is  the  object  of  our  thought.  Hence  arose  the 
hypothesis  of  a  passive  and  manifold  principle,  namely  matter, 
and  of  a  principle  of  movement  and  unity,  which  is  the  soul,  and 
the  necessity  of  explaining  the  intercommunication  and  inter- 
action of  these  two  principles  whose  union  is  apparently  contra- 
dictory. It  is  true  that  some  philosophers  have  denied  the 
existence  of  matter,  and  others  the  existence  of  mind,  but  all 
have  had  nevertheless  to  explain  the  apparent  dualism  which 
the  observation  of  things  seems  to  impose  on  us.  We  may 
therefore  consider  the  different  metaphysical  systems  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  solution  they  offer  to  the  problems  of 
matter  and  of  mind,  and  of  the  relations  between  them. 

Hylozoism  of  the  First  Philosophers.     Atomism  of  Democritus. 

We  should  seek  in  vain  among  the  first  Greek  philosophers, 
always  excepting  Democritus  and  the  Atomists,  for  a  clear  and 


MATTER  147 

distinct  conception  of  matter  as  we  understand  it.  These 
philosophers  considered  all  things,  as  Aristotle  puts  it,  ev  v\w 
e'iSei,  "  from  the  point  of  view  of  matter,"  but  the  conception 
they  formed  of  matter  was  still  confused  and  involved.  The 
elements,  which  they  took  as  constitutive  principles  of  the 
physical  world,  were  partly  material  and  partly  spiritual,  and 
the  mode  according  lo  which  these  elements  are  combined  was 
with  most  of  them,  whatever  Bitter  may  say  to  the  contrary 
(see  his  History  of  Grreek  Philosophy),  neither  strictly  dynamic 
nor  expressly  mechanical. 

Take  for  instance  Thales,  the  first  Ionic  Philosopher. 
According  to  him  the  substance  of  things  was  water,  or  in  a 
general  way  a  humid  element  (Arist.  Metaph.  I,  iii,  983  6,  20), 
but  this  element  was  not  purely  material,  it  had  a  soul,  ^v^i] 
(De  Anima,  I,  v,  41  la,  7).  Nor  was  it,  properly  speaking, 
spiritual,  for  this  soul  is,  as  it  were,  an  undefined  attractive  and 
motor  force,  something  like  a  magnet  (Ibid.  I,  ii,  405  a,  19). 
Thus,  Thales'  conception  was  rather  a  confused  kind  of  hylozoism; 
and  one  may  say  the  same  of  the  "  Infinite  "  of  Aiiaximander,  of 
the  "  air  "  of  Anaximenes.  Anaximenes  aera  deum  statuit  .  .  . 
esseque  immensum,  et  infinitum,  et  semper  in  motu  (Cic.  De  Nat. 
Deorum  I,  10). 

The  conception  of  Heraclitus  shows  more  originality.  Not 
that  he  rises  above  the  purely  physical  point  of  view  of  his 
predecessors ;  it  is  a  grave  historical  error  to  represent  him 
as  the  precursor  of  Hegel,  as  Lassalle  does  (Die  Philosophic 
Heracleitos  des  Dunklen,  2nd  vol.).  The  universal  principle  of 
being  is  an  ever-living  fire,  which  is  ignited  and  extinguished 
in  accordance  with  a  fixed  rhythm :  vrvp  aei^wov,  airro/jievov 
/m.€Tpo)  KOI  a.Tro<rfievvi>iJ.evov  /uLerpw  (Frag.  27).  Fire  becomes 
all  things,  and  all  things  turn  into  fire  (Frag.  49).  Fire  is 
not  indeed  a  determinate  sensible  existence,  but  the  common 
substratum,  the  substance  of  all  sensible  things. 

It  would  seem  at  first  sight  that  with  Pythagoreanism  the 
principle  of  the  explanation  of  things  becomes  decidedly 
spiritual,  but  the  Pythagorean  Number  must  be  regarded  as  an 
element  (a-roi-^elov,  Arist.  Metaph.  I,  v,  985  6,  28),  as  the  substance 
or  material  out  of  which  things  are  made.  Numbers  are  divided 
into  odd  numbers  (Trepiarara),  even  numbers  (aprta),  and  odd- 
even  numbers  (aprioirepia-cra).  The  odd  is  identified  with  the 


148  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

limited,  the  even  with  the  unlimited.  The  formula,  "  every- 
thing is  Number,"  is  then  equivalent  to  the  following :  Every- 
thing is  formed  either  of  things  limiting  or  of  things  unlimited, 
or  of  things  that  are  both  limiting  and  unlihiited.  avayKa  TO. 
eovTa  eljuLev  TravTa  rj  TrepaivovTa  rj  cnreipa,  rj  TrepaivovTa.  re  KGU 
a-Treipa  (Frag,  of  Philos.  3).  These  opposite  elements  are 
united  in  Number.  Number  is  thus  a  principle  of  unity  and 
harmony.  The  only  difference  between  the  Pythagoreans  and 
the  Ionic  philosophers  is  that  the  former  seek  the  essence  of 
matter,  not  in  a  single  more  or  less  subtle  or  dense  material 
principle,  but  in  Number,  the  most  abstract  principle,  which 
they  conceived  as  being  the  synthesis,  the  harmony,  of  the  two 
opposite  elements,  the  limited  and  the  unlimited. 

Parmenides  attacks  the  vulgar  conception  of  matter  as 
multiplicity  and  motion.  Being  alone  exists :  Being  that  is 
one,  immovable,  full,  always  like  unto  itself  (V,  60).  Par- 
menides calls  this  Being  a  sphere,  not  as  a  mere  poetical 
comparison,  but  as  being  really  identical  with  a  sphere  (V, 
103,  104).  Matter  and  thought  are  not  distinguished  by  him, 
both  are  contained  in  the  conception  of  Being  in  general 
(V,  39,  40).  The  Eleatic  philosophy  marks,  however,  an  im- 
portant stage  in  the  history  of  the  theories  of  matter,  for  in  it 
phenomena,  the  ephemeral  modes,  are  for  the  first  time  dis- 
tinguished from  the  substantial  and  permanent  element.  We 
shall  see  how,  later  on,  philosophers  returned  to  the  Eleatic 
principles,  and  drew  from  them  new  consequences. 

Empedocles  holds  with  Parmenides  that  birth  and  destruc- 
tion are  mere  appearances  (V,  113  sq.).  What  appears  to  us 
to  be  a  birth  or  becoming  ((^Jcn?),  is  merely  a  mixture  of 
elements  (/mifys).  What  we  regard  as  annihilation  (reXeim;) 
is  merely  a  separation  of  elements  (&aXXa£t9)  (V,  98  sq.) :  the 
primordial  elements,  the  pity/mara  of  things  are  four  :  water, 
air,  earth,  and  fire.  How  does  the  mixture  take  place  ?  The 
particles  of  a  body  detach  themselves  from  the  group  to  which 
they  belong,  to  penetrate  into  the  pores  (iropoi)  of  another 
body.  A  new  substance  is  not  formed,  there  is  only  a  displace- 
ment or  re-arrangement  of  the  elementary  particles.  As  for 
the  action  at  a  distance  of  one  body  upon  another,  it  is 
explained  by  what  Empedocles  calls  emanations  (anroppoai) : 
some  infinitely  small,  invisible  particles  are  detached  from  one 


MATTER  149 

body  and  penetrate  into  the  pores  of  another  (V,  337).  This 
action  takes  place  more  easily  according  as  there  is  a  greater 
similarity  between  the  two  bodies :  for  there  is  an  affinity,  a 
friendship  between  similar  things  (Arist.  De  Gen.  et  Corr.  I,  8). 

Anaxagoras,  like  Empedocles,  regards  birth  and  death  as  a 
union  and  separation  (Fr.  17).  But  the  primary  substances 
(<T7re'|0/ocaTa)  are,  according  to  him,  infinite  in  number.  These 
(nrep/naTa  are  not  indeterminate,  like  the  atoms  of  Democritus, 
they  are  at  once  perfectly  definite  and  endlessly  various  in 
qualities  (Fr.  3).  A  bone,  for  instance,  is  composed  of  smaller 
bones  which  have  come  together  and  combined  (Lucretius,  I, 
834-39).  Aristotle  calls  those  elements  "  like  "  (TO.  6/u.oio/jieprj\ 
whose  combination  forms  the  different  bodies.  (De  Gen.  et 
Corr.  I,  i,  314  a,  18.) 

The  clearest  expression  of  the  materialistic  theory  to  be  found 
in  philosophy,  is  the  one  given  by  the  Atomists  Leucippus  and 
Democritus.  They  grant  to  the  Eleatics  that  motion  and  be- 
coming are  impossible  without  Non- being,  but  instead  of  infer- 
ring from  this  proposition  the  impossibility  of  motion  and  of 
becoming,  they  deduce  from  it  the  reality  of  Non-being.  Non- 
being  exists  by  the  same  right  as  Being.  Being,  which  the 
Atomists,  like  the  Eleatics,  identify  with  the  plenum,  TO  TrXrjpe?, 
is  composed  of  atoms,  that  is  to  say,  of  indivisible  particles, 
which  are  eternal,  qualitatively  indeterminate,  in  number 
infinite,  and  separated  from  one  another  by  Non-being  or  the 
Void,  TO  KCVOV.  For  the  cause  of  the  motion  of  matter  Empe- 
docles had  fallen  back  upon  the  mythical  forces,  love  and  hate, 
while  Anaxagoras  found  this  cause  in  the  action  of  intelligence. 
But  according  to  Democritus  the  principle  of  motion  is  not 
to  be  found  in  any  force  external  to  the  atoms  (Arist.  De  Caelo, 
III,  2),  but  in  a  preceding  motion,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  This 
motion  does  not,  however,  occur  at  random,  but  in  obedience  to 
necessary  and  fixed  laws :  ovSev  •^ptjp.a  /ULCLT^V  yiyveTai,  aXAa 
TravTa  etc  \6yov  Te  KOI  VTT'  avdyKqs  (Frag.  41). 

Thus  everything  is  reduced  to  atoms  and  motion :  the 
manner  of  the  grouping  and  combination  of  the  atoms,  the 
primary  qualities,  i.e.  extension  and  weight,  constitute  the 
essence  of  things.  As  for  the  secondary  qualities  (heat,  cold, 
taste,  smell),  they  come  not  from  the  object  itself,  but  from  the 
impression  it  produces  on  human  sensation. 


150  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Pre-Socratic  philosophy  conies  to  a  close  in  the  Atomistic 
theory.  With  Democritus,  Greek  thought  arrived  at  last  at  a 
clear  and  distinct  conception  of  matter,  and  formulated  with 
precision  the  great  principles  which  are  becoming  every  day 
more  important  in  modern  physical  science :  the  indestructi- 
bility of  matter,  and  the  conservation  of  force ;  nothing  comes 
from  nothing,  nothing  returns  to  nothing  (Lucretius) ;  the 
reduction  of  all  phenomena  to  the  single  fact  of  motion,  and 
the  government  of  the  phenomenal  world  by  mechanical  laws. 
It  was  a  great  merit  in  Democritus  that  he  laid  down  so 
clearly  the  principles  of  what  we  may  call  the  Philosophy  of 
Appearance. 

if   Plato :  Obscurity  of  his  Theory  of  Matter. 

With  Socrates  there  commenced  a  reaction  against  the 
Materialism  of  the  Physicists. 

"  Without  having  dealt  himself  with  physical  science,  Socrates  had  yet 
already  marked  out  for  it  the  path  in  which  it  was  afterwards  to  travel 
with  such  steady  persistence.  .  .  .  The  world  is  explained  from  man,  not 
man  from  the  universal  laws  of  nature.  In  the  order  of  natural  events,  then, 
there  is  presupposed  throughout  that  antithesis  of  thoughts  and  acts,  of 
plan  and  material  execution,  which  we  find  in  our  own  consciousness.  .  .  . 
We  see  here  how  much  of  a  Socratic  Aristotle  still  was  at  bottom,  with 
his  antithesis  of  form  and  matter,  and  the  government  of  efficient  causes 
by  the  final  purpose "  (Lange,  History  of  Materialism,  trans,  by  E.  C. 
Thomas,  Vox.  I,  p.  64). 

Plato's  theory  of  matter  has  given  rise  to  much  discussion. 
What  is  matter  according  to  him  ?  Is  there  even,  strictly 
speaking,  such  a  thing  as  matter,  a  kind  of  reality  that  is 
different  in  nature  from  and  irreducible  to  Ideas,  and  whose 
relation  to  Ideas  yet  constituted  the  world  ? 

In  the  Timaeus  Plato  seems  to  teach  the  existence  of  an 
eternal  matter  (the  word  v\tj  is  not  used  by  him  in  this  sense), 
that  is  to  say,  of  an  indeterminate  something,  which  is  the 
source  of  becoming  (eiceivo  ev  S>  yiyverai) ;  a  kind  of  receptacle 
of  generation  (TTOO-^?  yevea-ew?  vTroSo^),  which  is  as  it  were  its 
nurse  (olov  nOr'jvt]) ;  difficult  of  explanation  and  dimly  seen 
(•^aXe-TTov  KOI  cifivSpov  et$o?)  (Tim.  49  a) ;  an  element  which 
underlies  all  things  (e/c/zayefoy  yap  (pva-et  TTOLVTI  iceiTai),  a  soft 
substance,  the  natural  recipient  of  all  impressions ;  the 


MATTER  151 

principle  out  of  which  all  things  are  formed,  and  which  has 
itself  no  form  and  no  determinate  qualities,  which  is  not 
accessible,  like  the  Idea,  to  thought,  nor  like  the  sensible,  to 
sensation  (Tim.  52)  ;  which  we  can  represent  to  ourselves 
only  through  a  mist,  and  as  it  were  in  a  dream  (irpos  o  §rj  KOI 
oveipo7ro\ou/u.€i>  /SXeVoj/re?).  Again  Plato  calls  this  matter  "  the 
place "  (x^pa,  ToVoy).  Such  is  the  obscure  principle,  the 
primitive  matter  which,  according  to  the  Timaeus,  exists  beside 
the  Idea  as  a  different  and  primitive  reality,  and  which  by 
concurrence  with  the  Idea  forms  the  world. 

Does  this  dualism  of  the  Timaeus  represent  Plato's  final 
conception  of  matter  ?  Or,  shall  we  not  rather  look  for  his 
last  word  on  the  subject,  in  the  Parmenides  and  the  Sophist,  in 
which  he  endeavours  to  overcome  this  dualism  ?  If  matter  is 
eternal,  if  its  substance  persists  through  every  change,  how 
can  it  be  said  that  being  only  belongs  to  the  Idea  ?  Matter, 
even  in  the  Timaeus,  is  known  neither  by  thought  nor  by 
sensation,  and  for  Plato,  the  intelligible  is  the  measure  of  the 
real,  and  what  is  an  object  neither  for  thought  nor  for  sensa- 
tion does  not  exist.  If,  moreover,  the  sensible  participates 
both  in  Being  and  Non-being,  and  if  all  being  comes  to  it  from 
the  Ideas,  must  there  not  be  a  negative  principle,  a  Non-being, 
which  distinguishes  it  from  the  Ideas  ?  Are  we  then  to  attri- 
bute Subjective  Idealism  to  Plato,  to  see  in  his  matter  nothing 
more  than  a  confused  representation  of  the  world  of  ideas  in 
the  individual  mind  ?  Not  to  mention  other  arguments  which 
might  be  urged  against  this  solution,  it  involves  a  historical 
misconstruction,  for  it  ascribes  to  Plato  theories  that  have  as 
a  matter  of  fact  appeared  only  in  modern  times. 

The  following  is  the  solution  which  Zeller  suggests : 

"  If,  then,  the  Universal,  the  basis  of  sensible  existence,  is  neither  a 
material  substratum  nor  a  mere  phantasy  of  the  subjective  notion,  what 
is  it  ?  Plato  tells  us  himself,  and  Aristotle  agrees  with  him.  The 
groundwork  of  all  material  existence  is  the  Unlimited  (cforei/Dov), 
Unlimitedness,  conceived^  not  as  predicate,  but  as  subject ;  it  is  the 
Great-and-Small,  not,  however,  to  be  described  as  corporeal  substance  : 
it  is  the  Non-existent,  i.e.  Non-being  ;  it  is  empty  space  as  the  condition 
of  separation  and  division.  In  the  place  of  an  external  matter  we 
must  therefore  suppose  the  mere  form  of  materiality,  the  form  of  existence 
in  space  and  of  motion  ;  and  when  the  Timaeus  speaks  of  a  matter  rest- 
lessly moved,  before  the  creation  of  the  world,  this  only  expresses  the 


\ 


152  THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

thought  that  separation  and  becoming  are  the  essential  forms  of  all 
sensible  existence.  These  forms  Plato  would  have  us  regard  as  some- 
thing objective,  present  in  the  sensible  phenomenon  itself,  not  merely 
in  our  notion.  On  the  other  hand,  matter  can  have  no  reality  or  sub- 
stantiality of  its  own,  for  all  reality  is  in  Ideas.  It  remains,  therefore, 
to  explain  matter  as  the  negation  of  the  reality  supposed  in  Ideas ;  as 
the  Non-being  of  the  Ideas,  into  which  the  latter  cannot  enter  without 
dissolving  its  Unity  in  multiplicity,  its  Permanence  in  the  flux  of 
becoming,  its  definiteness  in  the  unlimited  possibility  of  augmentation 
and  diminution,  its  self-identity  in  an  eternal  contradiction,  its  absolute 
Being  in  a  combination  of  Being  and  Non-being"  (Zeller,  trans,  by 
Alleyne  and  Goodwin,  pp.  311,  312). 

This  solution  certainly  involves  many  difficulties,  for  it 
appears  to  give  being  to  Non-being,  and  to  make  that  which 
cannot  be  thought  thinkable ;  but  these  difficulties  are  those  of 
Platonism  itself. 

However  this  may  be,  the  radical  difference  between  Plato's 
theory  and  the  pre-Socratic  materialism  is  easily  seen.  Demo- 
critus,  depriving  reality  of  all  form,  of  all  qualitative  deter- 
mination, reduces  it  to  matter.  Plato  occupies  himself  with 
the  form,  the  quality,  which  he  separates  from  matter,  realizing 
and  hypostatizing  it  in  the  Idea.  Matter,  quantity,  and  space, 
which  for  Democritus  were  the  whole  of  reality,  are  for  Plato 
only  the  Non-being,  an  indeterminate,  obscure  substratum 
underlying  sensible  existence. 

Aristotle:  Matter  an  Indeterminate  Potentiality,  has  no 
existence  without  Form. 

Aristotle  closely  unites  the  matter  and  the  form  which 
had  been  separated  by  Plato,  and  he  attributes  reality  to 
the  form  in  a  higher  transcendental  world.  While  Plato 
regards  the  relation  of  form  to  matter  as  that  of  reality 
to  Non-being,  to  Aristotle  they  are  two  correlative  terms,  the 
union  of  which  constitutes  Being.  There  is  therefore  in  the 
real  and  concrete  world  no  absolute  matter,  that  is,  no  matter 
that  has  not  some  form  or  quality. 

"'H^eis  8f  (f>afj.ev  p.ev  fivai  TIVO.  vXn]V  TWV  crto/iaTtov  ru>v  a'urQrjTwVj 
aAAa  Tavrrjv  ov  ^wpicrTTjv,  aAA'  aet  fj-er'  evavTiwcreco?  e£  775  yiyverai  TO, 
KaXovfjifva  o-Tot^€ta  :  We  say,  indeed,  that  there  is  a  matter  in  bodies 
which  are  the  objects  of  sensations  ;  but  this  matter  never  exists  by 
itself  or  without  one  of  the  contrary  forms  (heat,  cold,  heaviness,  light- 


MATTEE  153 

ness),  out  of  which  arise  what  are  called  the  elements  "  (De  Gen.  et  Corrupt. 
II,  1).  Matter  does  not  exist  of  itself  or  independently  of  form  :  TO  8'  i>A.i/cov 
ov8eiroT€  Ka.6'  O.VTU  XCKTCOV  (Met.  1035).  In  itself,  it  is  unknowable, 
ayvworos  Ko.6'  avr-^v  (1036  a,  8),  has  neither  quality  nor  quantity  nor  any 
other  of  those  things  whereby  entity  is  defined  :  A.eyo>  8'  v\t]v  rf  Ka6' 
avrrjv  fj.rjre  TI,  /Aryre  TroVov,  /ATJTC  aAAo  p.^0ev  Xeyerat  oi's  W/DUTTCU  TO  6V 
(Met.  1029  a,  20). 

Thus  it  is  only  by  mental  abstraction  that  matter  can  be 
separated  from  form.  But  what  is  matter,  considered  thus  in 
itself  and  in  the  abstract  ?  Every  being  or  individual  object, 
before  it  exists,  might  have  been  either  what  it  is  or  its 
opposite  ;  before  being  this  rather  than  that,  it  might  have  been 
indifferently  either  this  or  that.  And  it  is  precisely  from  this 
indeterminate  potentiality  that  those  contraries  arise  which  con- 
stitute matter.  ecrrt  S'  fj  /u.ev  v\t]  §vvafji.i$,  TO  <^'  et$o9  erreAe^eta 
(De  An.  II,  41 2  a,  6).  The  subject  of  all  change. the  condition  of  all 
becoming  (Phys.  I,  190  a,  31  sq.),  namely,  matter,  is  non-created 
(ayewyros);  and  as  all  things  that  perish  dissolve  into  it 
(etV  TOUTO  a<pi^erat  ea-^arov),  it  is  imperishable  (a^Qapros) 
(Phys.  I,  192  a,  28).  We  must  distinguish  this  primary  matter 
(Trpwryj  v\*)),  which,  being  without  quality  and  existing  before 
the  elements  themselves  and  their  differences,  escapes  our 
grasp,  from  the  last  or  final  matter,  v\t]  ea-^drrj — 'ISios — oiKeia 
CKOLO-TOV,  which  is  ready  to  receive  such  and  such  a  form,  just 
as  the  marble  or  the  bronze  is  matter  in  relation  to  the 
statue.  The  transition  from  potentiality  to  actuality  or  from 
matter  to  form,  takes  place  in  the  reality  through  the  medium 
of  motion. 

"  Motion,"  says  M.  Ravaisson,  "  is  Non-being  in  Being,  Non-being 
passing  into  actuality.  It  is  no  longer,  as  in  Plato,  the  logical  relation  of 
the  mutual  exclusion  of  two  terms,  but  an  intermediate  reality  which 
connects  them  together  as  two  moments  of  one  existence,  and  in  which 
one  becomes  the  other.  Motion  is  neither  Being  nor  Non-being,  neither 
actuality  nor  potentiality  ;  rather  it  is  both  at  once.  It  is  the  indivisible 
point  of  coincidence  of  these  opposite  terms,  whose  intimate  relation 
to  one  another  can  be  discovered  by  careful  observation "  (Ravaisson, 
Metaph.  cTAristote,  I,  395). 

Motion  is  incomplete  actuality,  Traera  Kivrj<ri9  areXj/?.  It 
has  not  its  end  in  itself  but  tends  towards  its  end,  which  is  its 
perfection.  Perfection,  or,  in  other  words,  true  Being,  is,  then, 
not  in  matter  nor  in  the  transition  from  matter  to  form,  but  in 


154  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  form  itself,  which  is  the  end  of  the  motion.  Matter  is  an 
imperfection,  or  perhaps  rather  a  latent,  possible  perfection 
which  has  not  yet  been  actualized  through  motion. 

Aristotle's  doctrine  was  thus  different  both  from  the 
doctrines  of  Plato  and  of  the  Ionic  physicists,  but  while 
attacking  these,  he  at  the  same  time  endeavours  to  reconcile 
them.  Matter  is  not  with  him  merely  the  non-existent.  Nor 
is  it  identified  with  privation  or  with  space,  but  is  already  a 
reality,  and  so  far  the  Ionic  philosophers  were  right.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  matter  is  an  inferior,  potential  reality, 
which  is  not  self-sufficient  and  cannot  be  isolated  from  form, 
and  in  this  respect  Plato's  theory  is  correct. 

Materialism  of  the  Epicureans  and  Stoics. 

After  Aristotle  Materialism  under  different  forms  appeared 
once  more  to  triumph. 

"  Even  by  the  school  of  Aristotle,  the  pure  actuality  of  absolute  thought, 
which  was  the  characteristic  idea  of  his  Metaphysics,  was  gradually 
abandoned.  The  Epicureans  did  away  with  all  idea  of  actuality  and 
potentiality  and  reduced  everything  to  an  inert  matter.  The  Stoics 
brought  down  thought  once  more  to  matter,  activity  to  potentiality,  and 
Metaphysics  to  a  new  Physics  "  (Ravaisson,  M&aph.  cPArist.  Vol.  II,  p.  26). 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  details,  Epicurus  borrowed 
his  atomistic  explanation  of  the  world  from  Deuiocritus.  Only 
bodies  exist :  TO  TTO.V  CCTTI  a-w/ma  (D.L.  X,  39).  Bodies  are 
formed  of  elementary  particles,  of  atoms  which  are  indivisible 
(Ibid.  56),  and  immutable  (Ibid.  54),  and  whose  essential  pro- 
perties are  size,  figure,  weight.  The  atoms  are  infinite  in 
number,  and  separated  from  one  another  by  the  void,  which 
alone  makes  motion  possible  (Ibid.  42,  44).  They  are  in- 
dependent of  one  another  (cnraOei?,  Plut.  Adv.  Colot.  8 ; 
aTpeiTTovs  KCLI  cKTUjULTTaOei^,  Ibid.  10),  and  can  have  no  relations 
except  those  resulting  from  the  accidents  of  impact  and  motion. 
They  have  a  natural  weight,  in  virtue  of  which  they  fall 
eternally  in  the  same  direction  and  with  the  same  velocity 
(D.L.  x,  43). 

But,  and  it  is  here  that  Epicurus  departs  from  the  doctrine 
of  Democritus,  it  is  necessary,  in  order  to  explain  the  contact 
of  the  atoms,  to  attribute  to  them  the  power  of  swerving  from 
the  straight  line,  and  that  without  cause,  in  a  certain  undeter- 


MATTEK  155 

mined  point  in  space  and  time  (Lucretius,  II,  221).  This 
deviation,  this  swerving  of  the  atoms,  is  so  slight  that  our 
senses  are  unable  to  perceive  it,  but  it  is  necessary  and  enough 
to  explain  the  formation  of  the  worlds  (Ibid.  243).  The 
universe  thus  constituted  by  the  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms 
is  governed  by  inflexible  necessary  laws.  Everything  can  be 
explained  mechanically  by  the  concourse  of  atoms  and  without 
the  intervention  of  intelligence  or  design. 

For  the  Stoics  as  well  as  for  the  Epicureans  it  was  an 
axiom  that  all  that  is  real  is  corporeal :  OVTO.  yap  ju.6va  TO. 
a-w/u-aTO.  KaXoiXriv  (Pint.  Adv.  Stoic.  30).  The  body  is  the 
extended,  which  has  three  dimensions  :  crw/ua  S'  eo-n  TO  rpi^w^ 
(WcrTaroV  (D.L.  vii,  135).  Not  only  are  the  human  soul  and 
God,  or  the  Providence  which  pervades  the  universe  of  reason 
and  of  harmony,  bodies,  but  so  are  also  all  those  qualities  which 
distinguish  things  from  one  another.  Quality  (TTOIOTW)  is 
explained  by  the  action  of  a  breath,  or  spiritual  fire,  which 
from  the  centre  of  each  thing  spreads  all  through  it,  and, 
returning  again  from  the  periphery  to  the  centre,  embraces, 
contains  it  (a-we^ei),  and  constitutes  the  unity  and  sympathy 
of  its  elements  :  %  TTOIOTIJ^  ea-rt  7rveu/u.a.  avTKTTpefpov  ed>'  eavTO. 

And  this  theory  applies  not  only  to  physical  properties,  but 
to  moral  qualities.  Virtues  and  vices  are  bodies,  that  is  to 
say,  they  are  the  result  of  the  activity  of  the  soul,  and  this 
activity  is  the  result  of  the  tension  of  the  spiritual  fire,  which 
is  the  soul  itself. 

"Placet  nostris,  quod  bonum  est  esse  corpus,  quia  quod  bonum  est  facit : 
quicquid  facit  corpus  est.  .  .  .  Sapientiam  bonum  esse  dicunt:  sequitur,ut 
necesse  sit  illam  corporalem  quoque  dicere"  (Sen.  Ep.  117,  2). 

Strangely  enough,  this  Materialism  was  not  with  the  Stoics 
the  basis  of  a  mechanical  explanation  of  life.  They  explained 
things  dynamically,  and  few  philosophers  have  made  greater 
use  of  the  theory  of  final  causes.  The  body,  according  to  them, 
possesses  more  than  the  mathematical  properties  attributed  to 
it  by  the  Epicureans.  There  are  in  each  thing  two  closely 
related  principles :  a  passive  principle  which  is  matter,  and  an 
active  one  which  is  force  or  cause. 

"  Dicunt  ut  scis,  Stoici  nostri,  duo  esse  in  rerum  natura,  ex  quibus  omnia 
fiant,  camam  et  materiam.  Materia  jacet  iners,  res  ad  omnia  parata, 


156  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

cessatura  si  nemo  moveat.  Causa  autem,  id  est  ratio,  materiam  format 
et  quocumque  vult  versat,  ex  ilia  varia  opera  producit.  Esse  debet 
ergo  unde  aliquid  fiat,  deinde  a  quo  fiat.  Hoc  causa  est,  illud  materia." 
(Sen.  Ep.  65,  2). 

Thus  matter  and  force  are  the  two  inseparable  elements 
which  constitute  each  being.  The  passive  or  material  element 
is  the  substance  (ova-id)  of  the  body,  is  that  by  which  it  exists 
(D.L.  vn,  150).  Force  or  the  active  element  is  its  quality,  its 
manner  of  being  (Trotori??).  Force  makes  with  matter  but  one 
and  the  same  being.  It  moves  in  and  with  matter,  and  is 
therefore,  as  it  were,  a  germ,  or  seed  which  contains  from  the 
beginning  all  its  determinations  and  develops  them  succes- 
sively, according  to  the  laws  of  reason :  \6yos  (nrep/mariKo? 
(Ibid.  136).  This  force  with  which  matter  is  informed,  and 
which  contains  in  itself  the  cause  of  all  the  changes  in  the 
body,  is  fire — not  the  coarse  fire  revealed  to  us  by  our  senses, 
which,  far  from  producing  anything,  destroys  everything,  but  an 
ethereal  fire  which  engenders  all  things  with  consummate  art 
and  knowledge :  irvp  TC^VIKOV  oSw  /SaSi^ov  «?  yevea-tv  (Ibid. 
156).  The  Stoics'  world  is  not,  like  that  of  Epicurus,  com- 
posed of  independent  parts  having  no  interaction  ;  everything 
in  it,  on  the  contrary,  is  bound  together.  One  force  and  one 
reason  pervades  it ;  it  is  in  fact  a  continuous  and  sympathetic 
whole :  irav  o-ui/e^eV,  <Tv/u.7ra6es.  Thus,  although  everything  is 
body,  matter  is  distinguished  from  force.  Not  that  the  ultimate 
result  of  the  system  is  a  dualism  :  the  primitive  and  divine 
fire  is  the  principle  of  all  that  is.  All  the  other  elements  are 
only  metamorphoses  of  this  fire,  and  matter  is  a  relaxation 
and  a  degradation  of  it.  And  if  everything  comes  from  the 
divine  fire,  everything  must  return  to  it ;  our  life  is  only  a 
periodical  episode  in  the  divine  life. 

Neo-Platonism  :  Reaction  against  Materialism. 

With  Neo-Pythagoreanism  and  Neo-Platonism  a  new  re- 
action against  Materialism  began.  A  doctrine  that  professed 
to  explain  everything  by  that  which  is  visible  and  tangible 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  repulsive  to  minds  trained  in  the 
school  of  Plato,  and  already  tinged  with  the  spirit  of  oriental 
religious  feeling.  In  the  Trinity  of  Plotinus,  the  first  hypo- 
stasis,  the  One,  which  is  absolutely  simple,  cannot  contain 


MATTER  157 

anything   analogous   to   matter,    but    in   intelligence   there   is 
already  plurality. 

"  If  there  are  many  forms,  it  is  necessary  (avay/c?;)  that  there  shall  be 
something  common  in  them  ;  and  also  that  there  should  be  something 
peculiar  to  each  by  which  one  is  distinguished  from  another.  This 
something  peculiar  (iSiov),  therefore,  this  separating  difference,  is  the 
appropriate  form  (fjLop<fy^).  But  if  there  is  form,  there  is  also  that  which 
is  formed  (el  8e  [j.op<f>rj,  «TTI  KO.I  TO  p.op^>ovp.evov\  about  which  difference 
subsists  (rrepl  o  17  8ia<f>opd).  Hence  there  is  matter  (in  intelligibles) 
which  receives  the  form,  and  is  always  the  subject  of  it  («rrtv  apa  KOI 
vA*;  17  TTJV  fj,op(f>rjv  8e\op.evrj  KCU  del  TO  viroKeipevov)"  (Plotinus,  Enneads, 
II,iv,4). 

Furthermore,  our  sensible  world  is  an  image  of  the  intelli- 
gible world,  and  as  it  is  composed  of  matter  and  of  form, 
there  must  also  be  matter  in  the  world  above :  KOKCI  Set 
v\rjv  elvat  (Ibid.}.  But  the  matter  that  is  in  the  vovs  must  not 
be  conceived  as  resembling  what  we  call  matter  here  below. 
Intelligible  matter  is  entirely  informed  and  animated  with  the 
higher  principle,  while  sensible  matter  shuts  out  form.  The 
first  is  Being,  the  second  is  Non-being  ;  the  first  is  eternal  like 
the  Idea,  the  second  is  subject  to  a  perpetual  becoming. 

"  Even  when  the  matter  of  bodies,"  says  Plotinus,  "  becomes  a  definite 
thing,  it  is  neither  living  nor  thinking  :  it  is  dead  in  spite  of  its  borrowed 
beauty.  On  the  other  hand,  intelligible  matter  is  truly  real,  it  is  living 
and  thinking "  (Enn.  II,  iv,  5). 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  these  two  kinds  of  matter  re- 
semble each  other  in  name  only,  but  there  is  a  reason  for  this 
common  name.  With  the  second  hypostasis  already  com- 
mences that  procession  which  continues  to  go  further  away 
from  unity  and  finds  its  last  limit  in  matter. 

What  is  concentrated  in  the  intelligible  world  is,  in  the 
sensible  world,  divided  and  dispersed ;  unity  becomes  plurality; 
harmony,  struggle  and  opposition ;  and  eternity,  time  and 
succession.  The  cause  of  this  lower  existence  is  matter, 
and  Plotinus  returns  to  Plato's  theory  of  it. 

Matter  is  the  universal  substratum  which  persists  under  the  mutation 
of  the  elements  into  each  other  (vTroSo^ij,  vTroKeip-fvov,  Enn.  II,  iv,  6). 
This  matter  is  void  of  form,  absolutely  indefinite,  void  of  all  quality  (airotos, 
Ibid.  8).  In  itself  it  does  not  even  possess  magnitude,  which  belongs  to 
it  only  in  so  far  as  the  concept  magnitude  is  realized  in  it  (Ibid.).  Matter 
is,  as  in  the  Timaeus,  space,  the  natural  recipient  of  all  things.  It  must  not 


158  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

be  said  of  matter  that  it  is  body  (dcrw/Aaros),  for  body  is  posterior  to  it 
(y<TTf.pov),  and  presupposes  the  synthesis  (crw&rov)  of  a  matter  and  a  form 
(Enn.  Ill,  vi,  7).  Matter  has  no  reality,  but  is  merely  the  possibility  of 
being  ;  in  itself  it  is  the  privation  of  all  things,  the  cause  to  other  things 
of  their  apparent  substance  ((pr^ia  TTCIVTCUV  oucra,  ctAAa  ytyvcrat  p.tv  curia 
aAAois  TOV  <J>aivf(rdai.,  Enn.  Ill,  vi,  15). 

Matter,  in  short,  is  Non-being  (dA?7#ivws  /«?  ov),  that  which  is  void 
of  all  reality,  from  which  the  good  is  absent ;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  that 
Plotinus  calls  matter  "  evil "  (irpwTov  KCIKOV,  Enn.  I,  viii,  3  ;  cf .  Zeller, 
Vol.  V,  2nd  ed.,  p.  486). 

It  must  be  admitted  that  this  definition  gives  us  no  positive 
idea  of  matter,  and  that  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  this  nothing 
which  is  yet  something. 

Revival  of  Science.  The  Problem  of  Matter  restated.  The 
Atomism  of  Gassendi. 

In  the  Middle  Ages  philosophers  were  content  to  follow  Plato 
and  Aristotle,  especially  the  latter  in  his  distinction  between 
matter  and  form.  We  must,  however,  notice  one  exception  :  in 
Paris,  in  1348,  Nicolaus  of  Autricuria  was  condemned  for  hav- 
ing said  that  there  was  "  nothing  in  the  phenomena  of  nature 
beyond  the  movement  of  atoms  which  combines  or  separates 
them  "  (Prantl,  Gesch.  der  Log.  IV,  p.  2).  It  was  not  till  the 
16th  century  that  the  revival  of  scientific  investigation,  and 
particularly  the  great  discoveries  of  Copernicus  and  Galileo,  drew 
attention  once  more  to  cosmological  problems,  and  consequently 
to  the  question  of  the  essence  of  matter.  The  consciousness  of 
an  universal  life  inspired  at  first  a  poetical  and  somewhat 
vague  kind  of  Pantheism. 

"The  infinity  of  forms  under  which  nlatter  appears,  taught  Bruno, 
it  does  not  receive  from  another  and  something  external,  but  produces 
them  from  itself  and  engenders  them  from  its  bosom.  Matter  is  not  that 
prope  nihil  which  some  philosophers  have  wished  to  make  it,  and  as  to 
which  they  have  so  much  contradicted  each  other  ;  not  that  naked,  mere 
empty  capacity,  without  efficiency,  completeness,  and  fact.  Even  though 
it  has  no  form  of  its  own  it  is  not  at  least  deprived  of  it,  as  ice  is  of  heat, 
or  as  the  depths  are  of  light,  but  it  is  like  the  travailing  mother  as  she 
expels  her  offspring  from  her  womb  .  .  .  therefore  matter  is  not  without 
forms — nay,  it  contains  them  all ;  and  since  it  unfolds  what  it  carries  con- 
cealed within  itself,  it  is  in  truth  all  nature  and  the  mother  of  all  living 
things  "  (Lange,  Hist,  of  Materialism,  Vol.  I,  p.  232  of  trans.). 

Beside  this  Pantheism  there  appeared  once  more  a  doctrine 


MATTER  159 

of  Atomism.     Among  all  the  ancient  philosophers  Bacon  gives 
the  highest  place  to  Democritus. 

"  And  therefore  the  natural  philosophy  of  Democritus,  and  some  others 
who  did  not  suppose  a  mind  or  reason  in  the  frame  of  things,  but  attri- 
buted the  form  thereof  able  to  maintain  itself  to  infinite  essays  or  proofs 
of  nature  which  they  term  fortune,  seemeth  to  me  ...  in  particularities  of 
physical  causes  more  real  and  better  inquired  than  that  of  Aristotle  and 
Plato"  (Advancement  of  Learning,  Bk.  II,  §  vii).  Bacon  does  not  however 
wish  to  be  "  led  to  the  doctrine  of  atoms,  which  implies  the  hypothesis  of 
a  vacuum,  and  that  of  the  unchangeableness  of  matter  (both  false  assump- 
tions)." "  We  shall,"  he  says,  "  be  led  to  real  particles  such  as  really  exist " 
(Nov.  Organ.  Bk.  II). 

It  was  by  a  French  philosopher,  Gassendi,  that  the  atomistic 
conception  of  the  universe  was  revived  in  modern  times.  As 
Lange  remarks,  "  Among  all  the  systems  of  antiquity  he 
judiciously  chose  the  one  that  is  most  in  harmony  with  modern 
empirical  tendencies."  The  rehabilitation  of  Epicurus  "  deserves 
to  be  ranked  amongst  the  most  original  attempts  of  that  time." 
In  his  work  the  Exercitationes  paradoxicae  contra  Aristotelem 
(1624-1645),  five  books  of  which  he  burnt  under  advice  of 
his  friends,  is  a  defence  of  the  system  of  Epicurus.  Erom  a 
summary  of  the  lost  books  we  see  that  Gassendi  adopted  the 
system  of  Copernicus,  and  the  theory  of  the  world  as  expounded 
by  Lucretius.  In  1643  'he  commenced  his  polemic  against 
Descartes  with  the  publication  of  his  Disquisitiones  anti- 
cartesianae.  Most  of  his  writings  on  Epicurus  as  well  as  the 
exposition  of  his  own  doctrines  date  from  1646  to  1653.  For 
him  the  universe  was  a  coordinate  whole,  the  constitutive 
elements  of  which  were  atoms.  These  in  their  turn  were 
determinations  of  a  permanent,  indestructible  principle,  which 
is  matter.  No  body  comes  from  nothing.  The  atoms  are 
identical  in  substance,  but  differ  in  form.  The  appearance  and 
disappearance  of  things  is  only  the  reunion  and  separation  of 
atoms.  Gassendi,  unlike  the  French  materialists  of  the  18th 
century,  does  not  deduce  atheism  from  his  principles.  God 
with  him  is  the  Creator  of  matter. 

Descartes:    the  Essence  of  Matter  is  Extension;   Geometrical 
Mechanism. 

"  It   is   very   evident   that  all   that   is    true   is   something, 
truth  being  identical  with  existence,  and  I  have  already  fully 


160  THE   PKOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

demonstrated  that  whatever  is  clearly  and  distinctly  known  is 
true"  (5th  Meditation).  Descartes  applies  this  method  to 
matter  in  order  to  determine  its  essence.  His  object  is  to 
make  of  matter,  such  as  it  exists  in  our  thought,  an  analysis 
which  shall  free  it  from  all  its  obscurities,  from  all  its  sensible 
qualities,  and  to  bring  out  whatever  in  it  is  clear  and  distinct 
(Ibid.}. 

Any  material  object,  a  piece  of  wax  for  instance,  contains 
a  confused  multitude  of  properties  which  are  variable  and  un- 
stable, and  awaken  in  the  thinking  subject  so  many  more  or 
less  confused  conceptions.  We  say  of  this  piece  of  wax  that 
it  has  such  a  colour,  such  a  form  and  taste,  but  do  these 
expressions  reveal  the  essence  of  matter  ?  In  no  wise.  Hold 
the  piece  of  wax  near  the  fire,  and  colour,  odour,  and  taste  will 
all  melt  away,  and  give  place  to  an  extended,  soft,  and  flexible 
mass,  which,  however,'  we  still  call  wax  (2nd  Med.} ;  con- 
sequently all  the  secondary  qualities  which  the  vulgar  regard 
as  so  many  properties  of  matter  are  things  that  depend  on 
external  circumstances  and  on  the  sensibility  of  the  subject, 
and  do  not  really  constitute  the  material  object.  All  that 
we  can  expect  of  our  senses  is  that  they  may  indicate  that 
which  in  the  object  will  be  useful  or  injurious  to  us. 

"  It  will  be  sufficient  to  remark  that  the  perceptions  of  the  senses  are 
merely  to  be  referred  to  this  intimate  union  of  the  human  body  and 
mind,  and  that  they  usually  make  us  aware  of  what  in  external  objects 
may  be  useful  or  adverse  to  this  union,  but  do  not  present  to  us  these 
objects  as  they  are  in  themselves.  .  .  .  For  after  this  observation  we 
will  without  difficulty  lay  aside  the  prejudices  of  the  senses  and  will  have 
recourse  to  our  understanding  alone  on  this  question  by  reflecting 
carefully  on  the  ideas  implanted  in  it  by  Nature  "  (Prin.  of  Phil.  II,  3  ; 
cf.  Med.  VI). 

Thus  none  of  the  secondary  qualities  are  realities.  There 
is  nothing  in  them  for  the  understanding  to  take  hold  of,  and 
the  real  is  that  alone  which  is  clearly  perceived  by  the  mind. 
The  only  essential  and  fundamental  property  which  persists 
throughout  all  modifications,  and  of  which  the  mind  can  have 
a  clear  and  distinct  knowledge,  is  extension,  or  the  dimensions 
of  length,  breadth,  and  depth. 

"  I  distinctly  imagine  that  quantity  which  philosophers  commonly  call 
continuous,  or  the  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth  that  is  in  this 


MATTEE  161 

quantity,  or  rather  in  the  object  to  which  it  is  attributed.  Further,  I 
can  enumerate  in  it  many  divers  parts,  and  attribute  to  each  of  these 
all  sorts  of  sizes,  figures,  situations,  and  local  motions  ;  and  in  time  I  can 
assign  to  each  of  these  motions  all  degrees  of  duration.  And  I  not  only 
know  these  things  when  I  thus  consider  them  in  general ;  but  besides,  by 
a  little  attention,  I  discover  innumerable  particulars  respecting  figures, 
numbers,  motion,  and  the  like,  which  are  so  evidently  true,  and  so 
accordant  with  my  nature,  that  when  I  discover  them,  I  do  not  so  much 
appear  to  learn  anything  new,  as  to  call  to  remembrance  what  I  before 
knew  "  (bth  Meditation). 

Thus  among  all  the  qualities  attributed  by  the  vulgar  to 
matter,  only  one,  which  is  independent  of  sensation  and  clearly 
perceived  by  the  mind,  is  essential  to  it  and  possesses  objective 
reality,  and  this  quality  is  extension. 

"  The  nature  of  matter  or  body,  considered  in  general,  does  not  consist 
in  its  being  hard,  or  ponderous,  or  coloured,  or  in  that  which  affects  our 
senses  in  any  other  way,  but  simply  in  its  being  a  substance  extended  in 
length,  breadth,  and  depth  "  (Princ.  of  Phil.  II,  4). 

Bodies,  whose  essence  is  extension,  are  not  different  from 
the  space  in  which  they  are  contained. 

"After  this  examination,  we  will  find  that  nothing  remains  in  the 
idea  of  body,  excent  that  it  is  something  extended  in  length,  breadth, 
and  depth,  and  that  this  something  is  comprised  in  our  idea  of  space,  not 
only  of  that  which  is  full  of  body,  but  even  of  what  is  called  void 
space"  (Ibid.  11). 

Space  and  body  being  identical,  it  follows  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  a  vacuum. 

"With  regard  to  a  vacuum,  in  the  philosophical  sense  of  the  term,  that 
is,  space  in  which  there  is  no  substance,  it  is  evident  that  such  does  not 
exist,  seeing  the  extension  of  space  or  internal  place  is  not  different  from 
that  of  the  body  "  (Ibid.  II,  16). 

Nor  are  there  any  atoms,  that  is  to  say,  indivisible  particles 
of  matter.  Every  extended  thing,  however  small  we  can 
imagine  it,  may  be  divided  into  two  or  more  smaller  parts, 
ad  infinitum  (Ibid.  II,  20).  The  world,  or  the  extended  matter 
of  which  the  universe  is  made  up,  is  also  infinite  in  magni- 
tude, and  no  limit  can  be  assigned  to  it  in  space  (Ibid.  II.  21). 
Space  being  full,  motion  is  "  the  transporting  of  one  part  of 
matter  or  of  one  body  from  the  vicinity  of  those  bodies  that 
are  in  immediate  contact  with  it,  or  which  we  regard  as  at 

II.  L 


162  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

rest,  to  the  vicinity  of  other  bodies "  (Ibid.  II,  25).  When 
one  part  of  matter  is  moved,  another  immediately  takes  its 
place ;  in  other  words,  every  motion  is  curvilinear  or  a  vortex. 
Thus  we  see  that  by  a  subjective  method  very  different 
from  that  of  Democritus,  Descartes,  nevertheless,  in  the 
same  way  reduces  the  manifold  properties  of  matter  to  unity, 
that  is,  to  extension.  In  Descartes'  theory,  as  in  that  of 
Democritus,  we  have  a  reduction  of  quality  to  quantity ;  but 
in  one  it  is  a  discrete  quantity,  i.e.  number  (the  atoms  were 
unities),  and  in  the  other  a  continuous  quantity,  namely, 
extension.  In  the  place  of  the  arithmetical  mechanism  of 
Democritus,  Descartes  proposes  a  geometrical  mechanism. 

Spinoza :  Extension  an  Attribute  of  God ;  Bodies  are  Modes 
of  this  Attribute. 

Spinoza,  like  Descartes,  reduces  all  the  properties  of  matter 
to  extension  ;  but,  for  him,  extension  is  not  a  substance,  but  an 
attribute  of  the  single  substance,  God,  and  the  only  one  of  all 
the  infinite  attributes  of  God,  besides  thought,  that  is  accessible 
to  human  intelligence.  "  Extension  is  an  attribute  of  God  ;  in 
other  words,  God  is  an  extended  thing"  (Eth.  II,  2).  The 
divine  extension  is  infinite ;  only  the  different  bodies  which 
are  its  modes  are  finite ;  God,  though  an  extended  thing  (res 
Extensa)  is  indivisible. 

"Substance  absolutely  infinite  is  indivisible  (The  Ethics,  Part  I,  Prop. 
XIII).  Proof  :  If  it  could  be  divided,  the  parts  into  which  it  was  divided 
would  either  retain  the  nature  of  absolutely  infinite  substance,  or  they 
would  not.  If  the  former  we  should  have  several  substances  of  the  same 
nature,  which  (by  Prop.  V)  is  absurd.  If  the  latter,  then  (by  Prop.  VII) 
substance  absolutely  infinite  would  cease  to  exist,  which  (by  Prop.  XI) 
is  also  absurd." 

God  is  thus  at  once  extended  and  indivisible.  This  proposi- 
tion may  appear  contradictory  to  those  who,  being  incapable  of 
rising  above  the  prejudices  of  imagination,  represent  the  divine 
extension  to  themselves  after  the  model  of  such  and  such  a 
particular  body.  But  God,  though  extended,  is  incorporeal. 

"  Some  assert  that  God,  like  a  man,  consists  of  body  and  mind,  and  is 
susceptible  of  passions  ....  all  who  have  in  any  way  reflected  on  the 
divine  nature,  deny  that  God  has  a  body.  Of  this  they  find  excellent 
proof  in  the  fact  that  we  understand  by  a  body  a  definite  quantity,  so 


MATTEE  163 

long,  so  broad,  so  deep,  bounded  by  a  certain  shape  ;  and  it  is  the  height 
of  absurdity  to  predicate  such  a  thing  of  God,  a  being  absolutely  infinite" 
(Eth.,  Part  I,  Prop.  XV  note). 

Because  God  cannot  be  conceived  as  a  body,  many  think 
that  extension  cannot  belong  to  God,  that  it  is  separated  from 
the  divine  substance,  and  created  by  God  Himself.;  but  they 
forget  that  extension,  as  it  is  in  God,  is  not  that  divisible 
and  even  actually  divided  extension  which  is  presented  to  us 
by  our  imagination.  The  manifold  parts,  or  the  different  bodies 
of  which  this  extension  is  composed,  have  only  a  phenomenal 
existence,  and  are  merely  the  finite  modes  of  the  infinite  and 
divine  extension ;  but  the  latter  in  itself  has  no  parts. 

"  It  is  mere  foolishness,  or  even  insanity,  to  say  that  extended  substance 
is  made  up  of  parts  or  bodies  really  distinct  from  one  another.  It  is  as 
though  we  should  attempt,  by  the  aggregation  and  addition  of  many 
circles,  to  make  up  a  square,  or  a  triangle,  or  something  of  totally  different 
essence.  Wherefore  the  whole  heap  of  arguments  by  which  philosophers 
commonly  endeavour  to  show  that  extended  substance  is  finite  falls  to  the 
ground  by  its  own  weight.  For  all  such  persons  suppose  that  corporeal 
substance  is  made  up  of  parts.  In  the  same  way,  others,  who  have  per- 
suaded themselves  that  a  line  is  made  up  of  points,  have  been  able  to 
discover  many  arguments  to  show  that  a  line  is  not  infinitely  divisible  " 
(Letter  to  Lewis  Meyer). 

Bodies  are  the  modes  by  which  the  divine  extension 
expresses  and  develops  itself.  "  By  ~body  I  mean  a  mode 
which  expresses  in  a  certain  determinate  manner  the  essence 
of  God  in  so  far  as  He  is  considered  as  an  extended  thing" 
(Eth.  II,  Def.  1). 

All  bodies  have  something  in  common,  air  imply  the  con- 
cept of  one  and  the  same  attribute,  extension  (Eth.  II, 
Lemma  2).  It  is,  therefore,  not  in  the  substance,  but  in  the 
modes  that  the  basis  and  origin  of  the  difference  between 
bodies  is  to  be  sought.  Bodies  may  be  divided,  in  the  first 
place,  into  two  principal  kinds, — into  simple  and  compound 
bodies.  Simple  bodies  are  distinguished  from  one  another 
only  by  motion  and  rest,  or  by  the  slowness  and  rapidity  of 
their  motion  (Ibid.  Lemma  3,  ax.  2).  Simple  bodies  are  not, 
however,  atoms.  Spinoza  does  not  assert,  any  more  than  did 
Descartes,  the  existence  of  atoms  and  of  the  void.  The  com- 
pound bodies  he  defines  in  the  following  way : 


164  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

"  When  any  given  bodies  of  the  same  or  different  magnitude  are  com- 
pelled by  other  bodies  to  remain  in  contact,  or  if  they  be  moved  at  the 
same  or  different  rates  of  speed,  so  that  their  mutual  movement  should 
preserve  among  themselves  a  certain  fixed  relation,  we  say  that  such 
bodies  are  in  union,  and  that  together  they  compose  one  body  or 
individual,  which  is  distinguished  from  other  bodies  by  this  fact  of 
union  "  (Ibid.  XIII,  Def.). 

The  laws  obeyed  by  the  different  bodies  are  all  reducible  to 
mechanical  laws.  The  origin  of  the  motion  of  a  body  is  to  be 
found  in  a  previous  motion,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  "  A  body  in 
motion  or  at  rest  must  be  determined  to  motion  or  rest  by 
another  body,  which  other  body  has  been  determined  to  motion 
or  rest  by  a  third  body,  and  that  third  again  by  a  fourth,  and 
so  on  to  infinity  "  (Ibid.  13,  Lemma  3).  To  put  forth  as  an 
explanation  of  the  motion  of  body  any  idea  of  design  is  to 
show  ignorance  of  the  true  cause  of  motion,  which  is  a 
mechanical  one  (Eth.  I,  Appendix). 

Such  are  the  laws  obeyed  by  that  part  of  nature  which  is 
the  material  universe,  and  such  are  its  constitutive  elements. 
Matter,  all  the  properties  of  which  can  be  reduced  to  extension, 
is,  with  thought,  one  of  the  modes  by  which  the  infinite 
substance  or  natura  naturans  reveals  itself.  Motion  in  space 
governed  by  inflexible  mechanical  laws  and  forming  an 
unbroken  chain ;  thoughts  linked  together  by  necessary 
relations — these  are  the  two  parallel  series  of  facts  by  which 
the  single,  immovable,  infinite  substance  expresses  and 
diversifies  itself. 

Malebranche :  Intelligible  Extension  and  Particular  Bodies. 

Malebranche's  theory  of  matter  may  be  said  to  form  a 
connecting  link  between  the  theories  of  Descartes  and  Spinoza. 
While  on  the  one  hand  he  identifies  matter  with  extension,  on 
the  other  he  endeavours  also  to  establish  the  dependence  of 
extended  substance  on  the  Divine  Substance.  In  order  to 
prove  that  extension  is  the  essence  of  matter,  he  is  content 
to  repeat  the  arguments  used  by  Descartes ;  figure,  divisibility, 
impenetrability,  and,  in  a  more  general  way,  extension — of 
which  the  others  are  only  modifications — are  the  qualities 
without  which  matter  cannot  be  conceived,  the  qualities  which 
constitute  its  essence  (Eech.  de  la  Vtritt,  III,  2nd  Part,  VIII,  2). 


MATTER  165 

Extension,  which  constitutes  the  whole  reality  of  matter,  is 
not  the  object  of  mere  sensible  perception,  but  is  seen  by  the 
human  mind  in  the  Divine  Intelligence  of  which  it  is  an  idea. 
The  idea  of  extension  as  it  dwells  in  the  infinite  mind,  and  as 
seen  in  it  by  the  finite  mind,  "  intelligible  extension,"  is  thus, 
in  the  last  resort,  the  cause  and  veritable  substance  of  material 
phenomena,  the  "  archetype  of  matter."  Our  perception  of 
the  divers  bodies  is  explained  by  the  determination,  in  this 
intelligible  and  general  extension,  of  certain  coloured  portions ; 
or,  in  other  words,  by  the  projection  into  extension  of  colour, 
which  is  a  purely  subjective  modification  of  the  soul. 

"  What  is  called  seeing  bodies  is  nothing  else  than  having  actually 
present  to  the  mind  the  idea  of  extension,  which  affects  or  modifies  the 
mind  by  different  colours :  for  bodies  are  not  seen  directly,  or  immediately, 
as  they  are  in  themselves.  It  is  therefore  certain  that  bodies  are  seen 
only  in  the  intelligible  extension  which  is  made  particular  and  accessible 
to  our  senses  by  colour  ;  and  that  colours  are  merely  sensible  perceptions 
which  the  mind  has  of  extension  when  the  latter  acts  upon  and  modifies 
it "  (Answer  to  Regis.  Ch.  II). 

Intelligible  extension  is  not  an  abstraction.  As  infinite, 
eternal,  and  necessary,  it  can  only  be  an  idea  of  the  Infinite 
Mind. 

What  is  the  relation  of  this  intelligible  and  divine  extension 
to  particular  bodies,  as  they  are  presented  to  us  by  our  sensible 
perception  ?  Do  the  different  bodies  already  exist  with  their 
individual  and  definite  forms  in  the  intelligible  extension  ?  No. 

"  We  must  not  imagine  the  relation  between  the  intelligible  and  the 
material  world  to  be  of  such  a  kind  that  there  exists,  for  instance,  an 
intelligible  sun,  or  horse,  or  tree,  which  is  destined  to  represent  to  us  the 
sun,  a  horse,  or  a  tree,  and  that  all  those  who  see  the  sun  necessarily  see 
this  supposed  intelligible  sun"  (Reck,  de  la  Ver.  I0me  eclaircissement). 

Intelligible  extension  is,  in  fact,  merely  a  possibility  of 
bodies  having  for  its  foundation  the  infinite  perfections  of 
God :  a  possibility  no  doubt,  but,  at  the  same  time,  a  veritable 
reality,  since  it  forms  part  of  the  Divine  Essence.  This 
intelligible  extension  becomes  sensible  and  is  particularized 
when  it  acts  on  the  soul  of  man  and  awakens  in  it  the 
consciousness  of  such  and  such  a  body. 

"Any  intelligible  extension  may  be  conceived  as  being  round  or  as 
having  the  intelligible  form  of  a  horse  or  a  tree  ;  therefore  any  intelligible 


166 

extension  may  serve  to  represent  the  sun,  a  horse,  or  a  tree,  and  may 
consequently  be  the  sun,  horse,  or  tree  of  the  intelligible  world,  and  even 
become  the  visible  and  sensible  sun,  horse,  or  tree  if  the  soul  has  on  the 
occasion  of  these  bodies  some  feelings  to  join  to  these  ideas ;  in  other  words, 
if  these  ideas  cause  sensible  perception  in  the  soul "  (Ibid). 

Thus  the  world  of  bodies  is  intelligible  extension  divided 
up  into  a  multiplicity  of  particular  forms,  and  acting  on  the 
human  soul  in  such  a  way  as  to  awaken  in  it  impressions 
which  are  more  or  less  confused.  It  is  a  transition  from 
potentiality  to  actuality,  but  from  a  potentiality  which  is  in 
fact  a  true  reality,  since  it  forms  part  of  the  Divine  Essence. 

There  are,  thus,  two  stages  in  Malebranche's  theory : 
in  the  first  he  abstracts  from  the  notion  of  matter  all  that  is 
given  to  us  by  our  purely  subjective  sensibility  (i.e.  the 
secondary  qualities),  retaining  in  his  definition  the  one 
essential  and  fundamental  property  of  extension.  In  the 
second  he  rises  above  this  entirely  subjective  point  of  view 
and  reaches  the  Absolute,  the  vision  of  things  in  God. 
Extension  then  appears  to  him  as  an  idea  in  the  Divine 
Mind,  as  an  intelligible  and  divine  extension ;  he  thus  departs 
from  the  doctrine  of  Descartes  and  approaches  that  of  Spinoza. 

"Extension  is  a  reality,  and  in  the  Infinite  all  realities  are 
found.  God  has  therefore  extension  as  well  as  bodies,  since  He  possesses 
all  the  absolute  realities  or  every  perfection  ;  but  God  is  not  extended  in 
the  same  way  as  bodies  are,  for  He  has  not  the  limitations  and  imperfections 
of  His  creatures "  (8th  Entretien  Metaph.  7).  "  The  infinite  and  divine 
extension  is  God  Himself  ;  not  the  whole  of  God,  but  God  seen  in  His 
relation  to  material  creatures,  in  so  far  as  He  thinks  these  creatures  and 
can  give  them  being  ;  in  other  words,  in  so  far  as  He  Himself  is  the  Being 
whence  they  borrow  their  reality  ;  in  fact,  in  so  far  as  He  is,  so  to  speak, 
their  being  "  (Olle-Laprune,  La  phil.  de  Malebranche,  I,  p.  203). 

On  Malebranche's  hypothesis  the  real  existence  of  bodies 
was  superfluous,  and  indeed  was  only  accepted  by  him  on  the 
faith  of  revelation  which  taught  him  that  God  has  set  forth 
intelligible  extension  in  a  multitude  of  different  individual 
forms. 

Leibnitz  gives  Three  definitions  of  Matter,  more  and  more 
Metaphysical. 

Leibnitz  analyses  the  idea  of  extension  wThich  to  the 
Cartesians  appeared  to  be  so  clear  and  simple,  and  finds  that  it 


MATTER  167 

involves  difficulties  which  had  escaped  their  notice.  Extension, 
whether  we  regard  it,  like  the  Cartesians,  as  continuous,  or,  like 
the  Atomists,  as  discontinuous  and  composed  of  units  separated 
by  a  vacuum,  can  in  no  way,  according  to  Leibnitz,  constitute 
the  substance  of  matter.  To  regard  extension  as  a  being  or 
substance  is  self-contradictory.  Extension  is  the  manifold,  a 
compound  the  constituent  elements  of  which  it  would  be  vain 
to  seek,  since  it  is  indefinitely  divisible  (Erdmann,  123).  The 
true  reality,  or  substance,  is  force,  the  monad.  What  then  is 
matter  ?  Leibnitz  distinguishes  a  materia  prima  or  abstract 
matter  which  is  purely  passive,  and  a  materia  secunda  or  con- 
crete matter  endowed  with  activity.  "  This  distinction,  as 
the  depth  of  its  meaning  gradually  appears,  gives  rise 
to  a  theory  of  matter  which  is  presented  to  us  under 
three  forms,  each  jof  which  is  more  metaphysical  than  the 
other "  (see  M.  Boutroux's  admirable  Introduction  to  the 
Monadologie,  p.  53  sq.'). 

By  considering  extension,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  physical, 
that  is,  from  Descartes'  own  point  of  view,  we  are  able  to  find 
a  definition  of  matter  which  is  more  profound  and  more 
complete  than  the  Cartesian. 

Regarded  from  this  point  of  view  the  materia  prima  or  bare  matter 
consists  of  avTiTviria  or  impenetrability  and  extension  (Erdm.  463). 
dvTiTi'iria  is  the  attribute  in  virtue  of  which  matter  is  in  space.  Ulud 
attributum  per  quod  materia  est  in  spatio  {Ibid.).  It  is  a  passive  resistance, 
what  is  called  impenetrability,  inertia.  This  property  cannot  be  reduced 
to  extension ;  on  the  contrary,  extension  is  reducible  to  resistance.  "  The 
primitive,  passive  power  does  not  consist  in  extension,  but  in  an  exigency 
of  extension.  Non  in  extensions  sed  in  extensionis  exigentia  consistit "  (Ibid. 
436),  in  the  tendency  to  extend.  Extension  is  a  continuation,  a  diffusion 
of  dvTiTVTTia  in  space.  It  is  the  realization  of  the  primitive  possibility  of 
being  extended.  Ita  dum  antitypia  continue  per  locum  diffunditur  seu 
extenditur,  nee  aliud  quidquam  ponitur,  oritur  materia  in  se,  seu  nuda  (Ibid. 
463).  When  to  this  naked  matter  is  added  a  principle  of  motion,  an 
elastic  force,  we  have  the  second  matter,  materia  secunda  seu  vestita. 
This  matter  is  not,  like  the  other,  merely  impenetrable  and  mobile,  but 
contains  a  principle  of  activity  (principium  activum  continef),  a  super- 
added  force,  vis  activa  materiae  superaddita,  which  makes  it  capable  of 
reaction  (repercutit)  (Ibid.  466). 

So  far  we  have  considered  matter  in  its  external  aspect 
only,  let  us  now  see  what  matter  is  when  considered  from  an 


168  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

internal  point  of  view,  that  is  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
monad.  The  monad  is  a  created  and  finite  spiritual  substance, 
existing  in  company  and  in  contact  with  other  monads,  which 
are  finite  and  created  like  itself.  It  is  consequently  not 
susceptible  of  full  development ;  all  its  tendencies  do  not 
attain  actuality ;  it  is  arrested,  so  to  speak,  in  its  expansion  by 
its  own  finite  character  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 
by  its  relation  with  the  other  finite  monads.  This  passivity  of 
the  monad,  this  impediment  to  its  development  is  what, 
according  to  Leibnitz,  constitutes  the  mater ia  prima.  To  this 
purely  passive  element  is  added  in  every  complete  substance 
an  active  principle  or  entelechy. 

"  Materia  prima  propria  id  est  potentia  passiva  primitiva,  ab  activa 
inseparabilis  ipsae  Entelechiae  (quam  complet,  ut  monada,  seu  substantiam 
completam  constituent)  concreatur"  (Erdm.  456).  This  purely  passive  force 
inherent  in  every  monad  is  the  principle  of  antitypia  and  of  ex- 
tension ;  in  other  words,  of  the  materia  prima  of  which  we  have  spoken 
above.  As  for  the  second  matter,  considered  thus  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  monad  substance,  it  is  an  aggregate  of  monads  :  "  ex  pluribus 
monadibus  resultare  materiam  secundam  (intelligimus)  cum  viribus  derivatis 
actionibus,  passionibus,  quae  non  sunt,  nisi  entia  per  aggregationem  "  (Erdm. 
436). 

The  materia  secunda  is  formed  out  of  an  infinite  number  of 
complete  substances,  each  of  them  having  its  entelechy  and 
materia  prima,  which  are  dominated  by  a  central  monad ;  in  a 
word,  it  is  an  organic  body. 

The  materia  secunda,  as  for  instance  the  body,  is  not  a  substance,  but 
a  mass  consisting  of  several  substances  like  a  pond  full  of  fish  or  a  flock 
of  sheep  (Erdm.  736).  Each  portion  may  be  conceived  as  a  garden  full  of 
plants  or  as  a  pond  filled  with  fish,  but  each  sprig  of  the  plant,  each  limb 
of  the  animal,  every  drop  of  its  humours  is  in  its  turn  such  a  garden  or 
such  a  pond  (Monad.  67,  Erdm.  710). 

To  sum  up :  the  materia  secunda,  or  organic  body,  is  the 
external  representation,  the  phenomenon,  and,  as  it  were,  the 
configuration  in  extension,  of  a  group  of  monads  or  simple 
substances,  presided  over  by  one  dominating  monad.  But 
does  this  representation  in  extension  result  immediately  from 
the  grouping  of  the  monads,  or  does  it  occur  by  means  of  a 
mnculum  substantiate,  an  intermediate  principle  by  which  the 
phenomena  are  realized  ?  (Lettre  au  P.  des  Bosses).  In  one 


MATTEE  169 

or  two  passages  Leibnitz  appears  to  regard  the  vinculum  sub- 
stantiate as  a  reality  distinct  from  the  monads,  something  real 
and  substantial  which  is  the  common  subject  of  attributes  and 
of  modifications :  vinculum  reale  seu  substantiate  aliquid,  quod 
sit  subjectum  communium  seu  conjungentium  praedicatorum  et 
modificationum  (Erd.  741).  But  his  system  logically  excluded 
the  existence  of  a  special  entity  serving  to  unite  the  simple 
substances,  and  he  expressly  affirms  that  the  vintulum  sub- 
stantiate is  no  more  than  the  relation  of  the  monads,  resulting 
from  the  pre-established  harmony  between  their  activity  and 
their  passivity :  Vincula  ilia,  quod  habent  reale,  habebunt  in 
modificatione  cujus-libet  monadis,  et  harmonia  seu  consensu 
monadum  inter  se  (Erd.  713). 

But  this  view  of  the  monad  as  a  substance  acted  on  by 
and  reacting  upon  other  monads  does  not  take  us  beyond  the 
surface  of  things.  The  monad  is  no  doubt  a  substance,  but  it 
is  also  and  above  all  a  centre  of  perception,  an  activity  which 
develops  itself  spontaneously.  Therefore  the  passive  principle 
which  dwells  in  every  created  substance,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
materia  prima  is  not,  as  at  first  appeared,  an  external  obstacle, 
but  an  entirely  internal  impediment  to  the  representation  in 
the  monad  of  other  monads.  Substantia  agit  quantum  potest, 
nisi  impediatur  ;  impeditur  autem,  etiam  substantia  simplex,  sed 
naturatitur  non  nisi  intus  a  se  ipsa  (Erd.  740). 

Each  monad  ought  to  represent  the  whole  of  the  universe, 
whereas  it  can  only  represent  it  from  its  own  point  of  view, 
which  is  not  a  central  or  absolute  point  of  view.  Each  monad, 
therefore,  has  in  its  finite  nature  a  principle  of  confused  per- 
ceptions. The  materia  prima  is,  in  the  last  resort,  this 
necessary  imperfection,  this  internal  limit  of  the  monad.  As 
for  the  materia  secunda,  or  the  organism  regarded  from  this 
point  of  view,  it  is  "  the  grouping  and  arrangement  of  the 
confused  perceptions  terminating  in  a  distinct  perception. 
There  is  no  distinct  perception  that  does  not  contain  in  itself 
an  infinity  of  inferior  perceptions,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  The 
organism  ultimately  appears  as  the  working  of  the  mind 
organizing  its  perceptions  "  (E.  Boutroux,  Op.  cit.}. 

Such  are  the  three  stages  in  Leibnitz's  theory  of  matter. 
In  the  first,  Leibnitz  defines  matter  by  extension  after  the 
manner  of  Descartes,  but  he  already  goes  beyond  the  Cartesian 


170  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

definition,  by  pointing  out  the  passive  principle  of  resistance 
antitypia,  which  is  the  exigency  of  extension  and  anterior  to 
extension.  In  the  second  degree,  matter,  considered  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  monad  as  substance,  appears  to  him  as  a 
limitation  of  the  finite  substances  by  one  another.  Lastly,  no 
longer  considering  the  monad  as  only  a  substance  in  communi- 
cation with  other  substances,  but  as  a  centre  of  perception,  an 
entirely  spontaneous  activity,  he  makes  matter  the  internal  im- 
pediment to  the  representation  in  each  monad  of  other  monads. 

Berkeley  and  Hume  deny  the  existence  of  Matter* 

Leibnitz,  although  he  reduced  extension  to  an  appearance, 
a  rational  entity,  had  still  allowed  a  certain  amount  of  objec- 
tive reality  to  matter ;  the  appearance  was  well  founded,  bene 
fundata.  Berkeley  goes  further  and  denies  that  matter  has 
any  reality  at  all  outside  the  mind.  The  primary  as  well  as 
the  secondary  qualities  are  only  modifications  of  the  sensitive 
subject,  and  have  no  existence  apart  from  it.  When  matter 
has  thus  been  stripped  of  all  its  primary  and  secondary 
qualities,  what  remains  ?  Nothing  at  all.  What  is  the  use  of 
assuming  the  existence  of  an  invisible,  unknowable  substratum 
of  which  we  can  have  no  positive  idea,  which  we  cannot  call 
the  cause  of  our  impressions  because  we  assume  it  to  be 
inactive  and  passive.  Shall  we  say,  then,  that  it  underlies  its 
attributes  ?  But  in  that  case  it  must  be  defined  as  extended, 
and  to  do  so  would  be  to  enter  upon  an  infinite  regression. 

"Consequently  every  corporeal  substance,  being  the  substratum  of 
extension,  must  have  in  itself  another  extension  by  which  it  is  qualified 
to  be  a  substratum,  and  so  on  to  infinity  "  (1st  Dialogue  between  Hylas  and 
Philonous,  p.  289).  We  must  therefore  abandon  the  notion  of  the 
external  existence  of  a  material  substance,  that  is  to  say,  of  its  existence 
distinct  from  the  quality  of  being  perceived. 

Hume  agrees  with  Berkeley  in  his  negative  conclusions : 
"  'Tis  evident  that  .  .  .  colours,  sound,  heat  and  cold,  as  far  as 
appears  to  the  senses,  exist  after  the  same  manner  with 
motion  and  solidity.  .  .  .  Tis  also  evident  that  colours, 
sound,  etc.,  are  originally  on  the  same  footing  with  the  pain 
that  arises  from  steel,  and  the  pleasure  that  proceeds  from 
a  fire  "  (Treatise  of  Human  Nature  I,  iv.  2). 

The  very  idea  of  an  external  world  is  an  illusion,  for  in 


MATTER  171 

reality  we  never  get  beyond  ourselves,  beyond  our  subjective 
perceptions.  There  is,  therefore,  no  material  substances  distinct 
from  the  mind,  but  only  a  very  strongly-rooted  belief  in  the 
reality  of  matter,  in  a  "  continued  and  distinct  existence." 
Every  morning  we  think  we  see  the  same  sun  that  we  saw 
the  day  before,  but  "  'tis  a  gross  illusion  to  suppose  that 
our  resembling  perceptions  are  numerically  the  same ;  and 
'tis  this  illusion,  which  leads  us  into  the  opinion  that  these 
perceptions  are  uninterrupted,  and  are  still  existent  even  when 
they  are  not  present  to  the  senses  "  (Ibid.). 

French  Materialism  in  the  18th  Century. 

The  materialistic  movement  which  arose  in  France  in  the 
18th  century  may  be  traced  to  various  causes.  Materialism, 
which  in  England,  from  Hobbes  and  Newton  to  Hartley  and 
Priestley,  was  coexisted  with  religious  faith  and  deism,  was 
used  in  France  as  an  instrument  against  the  Catholic  beliefs 
(see  Lange's  Hist,  of  Materialism). 

The  French  Materialists  combined  Bayle's  religious  scep- 
ticism with  a  mechanical  conception  of  the  world.  La  Mettrie's 
Natural  History  of  the  Soul  (1745)  contained  the  germ  of 
theories  which  he  himself  was  to  develop  later  in  his  Homme- 
machine,  and  which  were  destined  to  make  so  much  noise  in 
the  world.  In  order  to  know  the  properties  of  the  soul  which 
is  unknown  to  us  in  its  essence,  we  must  study  the  properties 
of  the  body  of  whose  essential  nature  we  are  also  ignorant. 
Eeal  and  concrete  matter  is  never  without  motion :  motion  is 
one  of  its  essential  properties,  and  even  when  it  is  not  perceived 
it  exists  as  a  possibility.  Matter  possesses  also  the  faculty  of 
feeling  ;  the  hypothesis  of  a  soul  distinct  from  matter,  having 
its  seat  either  in  a  particular  point  or  in  some  particular  part 
of  the  body,  is  inadmissible.  La  Mettrie  was  more  clear 
and  more  categorical  in  his  famous  work  V Homme-machine 
(1748).  "Leibnitz,"  he  said,  "spiritualized  matter  instead  of 
materializing  the  soul."  Descartes  too  was  wrong  in  his  dis- 
tinction of  two  substances.  The  errors  of  the  metaphysicians 
arose  out  of  their  a  priori  methods ;  for  the  complicated 
machine,  which  is  man,  can  only  be  known  a  posteriori  through 
the  senses  and  by  experience.  La  Mettrie  investigates  the 
effect  of  environment,  of  food  and  education  on  the  temperament, 


172  THE  PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

and  the  eS'ect  of  temperament  on  moral  conduct.  Man  is  a 
material  machine,  the  soul  is  merely  the  principle  of  motion,  a 
spring  in  the  machine.  "  Thought  is  so  far  from  being  incom- 
patible with  matter  that  it  would  seem  to  be  a  property  of 
matter,  like  electricity,  mobility,  impenetrability,  and  extension. 
In  a  word,  man  is  a  machine,  and  in  the  whole  of  the  universe 
there  is  only  the  one  substance,  which  is  modified  in  divers 
ways." 

The  most  important  monument  of  the  French  Materialism 
of  the  18th  century  is  Baron  d'Holbach's  Syst&me  de  la 
Nature.  In  the  first  part  of  this  work  he  sets  forth  the 
general  principles  of  his  system ;  his  ideas  concerning  nature, 
matter,  motion  and  its  laws.  Then  follow  the  study  of  man, 
an  inquiry  into  the  supposed  differences  between  man  as  a 
physical  being  and  man  as  a  moral  being,  and  lastly,  an 
investigation  of  his  origin. 

The  second  part  is  devoted  to  the  discussion  and  refutation 
of  the  principal  arguments  for  the  existence  of  God.  Nature 
is  an  immense  material  and  physical  whole  which  contains  all 
beings,  and  among  them  man,  a  purely  physical  and  material 
being.  Of  what  is  this  nature,  this  sole  existing  reality,  com- 
posed ?  Of  matter  and  motion.  "  The  universe,  that  vast 
assemblage  of  all  that  exists,  presents  everywhere  nothing  but 
matter  and  motion.  Seen  as  a  whole  it  is  an  immense  and 
unbroken  chain  of  causes  and  effects  "  (p.  8). 

Motion  is  a  universal  and  constant  fact  in  nature :  absolute 
rest  does  not  exist.  But  there  are  two  kinds  of  motion :  the 
motion  that  is  communicated,  or  impressed  on  a  body  from  out- 
side and  perceptible  to  us ;  and  the  internal  and  hidden  move- 
ments which  take  place  inside  the  body  between  its  different 
molecules  and  which  cannot  be  immediately  apprehended  by 
our  senses.  To  this  last  category  belong,  for  example,  the 
motion  which  is  brought  about  by  the  fermentation  in  the 
molecules  of  flour,  the  growth  of  a  plant  or  an  animal,  and 
lastly,  what  are  called  the  intellectual  faculties  of  man,  his 
thoughts,  passions,  volitions.  In  his  theory  of  matter, 
d'Holbach  was  not  strictly  speaking  an  atomist.  He  admits, 
indeed,  the  existence  of  elementary  molecules,  but  he  maintains 
that  the  essence  of  these  elements  is  unknown.  We  only 
know  some  of  their  properties,  which  we  discern  through 


MATTER  ]73 

the  effects  of  changes  produced  in  our  sensations  (p.  25). 
All  the  modifications  of  matter  are  due  to  motion  (p.  26). 
In  what  is  called  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature  there  is  a 
perpetual  exchange  and  circulation  of  the  molecules  of  matter. 

"  From  the  stone  which  is  formed  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  by  the 
close  combination  of  analogous  and  similar  molecules  which  have 
come  together,  to  the  sun,  that  vast  reservoir  of  inflamed  particles  which 
illumines  the  firmament ;  from  the  torpid  oyster,  to  man  active  and 
thinking,  we  see  an  unbroken  progression,  a  perpetual  chain  of  com- 
binations and  motions,  resulting  in  beings  different  only  in  the  variety 
of  their  elementary  substances,  and  in  the  proportions  of  these  same 
elements  out  of  which  arise  their  infinitely  various  modes  of  existence 
and  of  action"  (p.  31). 

Kant :  Definition  of  Matter ;  An  Expansive  and  Eepellent 
Force. 

While  Hume,  denying  the  existence  of  anything  outside  of 
mind,  found  in  the  mind,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  association  of 
impressions  brought  about  by  habit  and  imagination,  the 
origin  of  our  belief  in  the  reality  of  matter,  Kant  also 
seeks  the  principle  of  the  formation  of  a  world  of  objective 
phenomena  in  the  mind,  not,  however,  in  its  empirical  habits 
and  contingent  impressions,  but  in  its  necessary  and  a  priori 
laws.  Not  that  Kant,  like  Hume,  rejects  the  hypothesis  of 
a  world  external  to  the  mind ;  he  only  declares  it  to  be 
inaccessible.  In  the  construction  of  the  external  world,  the 
mind  supplies  the  form  only,  the  material  element  comes  to 
it  from  elsewhere,  from  the  things-in-themselves. 

His  theory  of  matter  falls  into  three  parts  or  stages :  What 
is  matter  in  itself,  considered  as  a  reality  external  to  the 
mind  ?  This  is  the  metaphysical  problem,  and  it  is  insoluble. 
How  does  the  mind,  with  its  forms,  and  its  categories,  arrive 
at  the  construction  of  an  objective  world  set  over  against 
itself  ?  This  is  the  point  of  view  of  Criticism.  The  Trans- 
cendental Aesthetic  and  part  of  the  Transcendental  Logic  are 
devoted  to  the  solution  of  this  second  question.  Thirdly,  having 
assumed  the  existence  of  an  external  objective  world  formed 
by  the  combined  action  of  the  a  priori  laws  of  the  mind 
which  furnishes  the  formal  element,  and  of  that  external 
reality  which  supplies  the  material  element,  what  are  we 
to  understand  by  matter  ?  To  this  purely  scientific  question 


174  ?HE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Kant  replies  in  a  work  entitled :  Metaphysische  Anfangsgrunde 
der  Naturwissenschaft  (Ed.  Schubert  &  Rosenkranz,  Vol.  V). 
In  a  general  way  matter  is  a  something  which  affects  our 
senses,  and  as  our  senses  can  only  be  affected  by  motion,  the 
first  determination  of  matter  is  motion.  Matter  is,  then,  in 
the  first  place,  that  which  is  moveable  in  space,  das  Beweglwhe 
im  Raume  (Ibid.  p.  320). 

Having  thus  defined  matter,  Kant  considers  the  laws  of 
the  communication  of  motion :  this  is  the  object  of  the 
Phoronomics,  thence  he  proceeds  to  what  he  calls  Dynamics,  and 
it  is  here  that  he  completes  his  definition  of  matter.  Con- 
sidered no  longer  as  a  mere  quantity,  but  as  a  quality,  matter 
is  the  moveable  which  fills  a  space.  To  fill  a  space  is  to 
resist  everything  that  could  penetrate  into  that  space,  to 
oppose  all  motion  coming  from  without  by  a  contrary  motion. 
As  all  resistance  presupposes  force  of  resistance,  and  all 
motion  a  motor  force,  matter  can  only  fill  space  through  a 
motor  force  (durch  eine  besondere  bewegende  Kraft,  p.  343), 
which  must  consist  in  a  sort  of  original  elasticity  and  in 
a  force  of  attraction  and  repulsion  (Zuruckstossungskraft, 
A  nziehungskraft). 

In  virtue  of  this  primordial  force,  matter  is  susceptible  of 
indefinite  compression  and  cannot  be  penetrated  by  another 
matter.  By  its  repulsive  force  matter  expands  in  space  until 
it  finds  an  obstacle  in  the  resistance  of  another  body.  There 
is,  therefore,  no  such  thing  as  a  vacuum,  and  matter  is  infinitely 
divisible.  The  repulsive  force  by  itself  would  cause  universal 
dissolution,  and  the  attractive  force  by  itself  would  reduce  all 
the  parts  of  matter  to  a  mathematical  point.  The  repulsive 
force  only  acts  in  contact,  and  the  attractive  force  only  at  a 
distance. 

Kant's  philosophy  of  Nature  is  thus  a  dynamism :  his  chief 
objection  to  the  atomistic  and  mechanical  theory  is  the  hypo- 
thesis of  a  void.  In  his  Mechanics  (the  third  part  of  the  work 
mentioned  above)  Kant  establishes  the  laws  of  motion,  which 
correspond  to  the  laws  of  thought  laid  down  in  the  Critique 
of  Pure  Reason,  or  rather  which  are  the  same  laws  applied  to 
matter. 

Firstly :  the  Laws  of  conservation  of  matter  and  of  motion — "  In  all  the 
•changes  of  natural  bodies  the  total  quantity  of  matter  remains  the  same, 


MATTER  175 

is  neither  increased  nor  diminished."  Secondly :  Law  of  inertia — "  Every 
change  in  matter  has  an  external  cause."  Thirdly :  Law  of  the  equality  of 
action  and  reaction — "Whenever  motion  is  communicated,  action  and 
reaction  are  equal."  Fourthly :  Law  of  continuity — "  In  no  body  can  the 
state  of  rest  or  motion — nor  in  this  latter  state,  the  degree  of  rapidity 
or  direction — be  instantaneously  modified  by  impact :  this  can  only  take 
place  in  a  determined  time,  and  through  a  continuous  and  infinite  series  of 
intermediate  terms." 

We  must  remember,  however,  that  these  laws  are  not  the 
laws  of  an  absolute  reality,  of  a  material  substance  existing 
outside  the  mind,  but  necessary  and  constant  relations  between 
phenomena  in  space  and  time  which  are  the  a  priori  forms  of 
human  sensibility.  The  mind,  by  means  of  its  forms  and  its 
categories,  and  by  means  of  a  material  element  furnished  by  an 
unknowable  reality,  constructs  a  world  of  phenomena,  an 
objective  world,  governed  by  the  laws  enumerated  above. 

Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel :    What  is  Matter  for  the  Idealists  ? 

Kant's  successors,  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel  suppress 
that  unknowable  reality  external  to  the  mind,  which  Kant  had 
allowed  to  subsist.  The  Kantian  dualism  is  thus  resolved  into 
an  Idealistic  Pantheism,  in  which  the  mind  not  only  constructs 
the  external  world  by  imposing  on  it  its  form,  as  Kant  had 
said,  but  creates  and  evolves  it  entirely  out  of  its  own  activity. 

Fichte  rejects  the  existence  of  the  noumenon,  that  thing-in- 
itself,  whose  relation  to  the  mind  it  is  impossible  to  explain. 
The  things-in-themselves  being  abolished,  there  now  remains 
as  the  principle  of  phenomena  only  the  Ego.  The  mind  fur- 
nishes not  only  the  form,  but  the  matter  of  knowledge.  The 
Ego  alone  is,  and  it  is  all ;  but  it  can  posit  itself  in  conscious- 
ness only  in  opposition  to  the  Non-ego.  The  world  is  reduced 
to  the  different  decrees  of  the  Ego,  to  the  shocks  which  the  Ego 
suffers,  or  rather  gives  itself  in  the  development  of  its  essence. 
The  Ego  presents  itself  as  determined  by  the  Non-ego,  it  must 
therefore  attribute  to  itself  only  a  partial  reality,  refer  to  the 
Non-ego  all  the  reality  which  it  does  not  attribute  to  itself,  and 
admit  a  reciprocal  action  of  the  Ego  and  the  Non-ego.  It  is 
because  the  Ego  is  determined,  and  appears  to  be  passive,  that 
we  attribute  reality  and  activity  to  the  Non-ego.  The  Non-ego 
appears  as  the  cause  of  this  passivity  in  the  Ego,  and  it  is  in 
this  way  that  the  category  of  causality  is  formed. 


176  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

But  how  can  a  passive  modification  of  the  Ego  be  derived 
from  the  causality  of  the  Non-ego,  when  the  Ego  is  the  principle 
of  all  activity,  when  the  activity  of  the  Non-ego  and  the 
passivity  of  the  Ego  are  implied  in  the  Ego's  own  activity  ?  In 
order  to  solve  this  difficulty,  Fichte  assumes  the  existence  in  the 
Ego  of  an  independent  activity  (undbhangige  Thatigkeit),  whose 
essence  consists  precisely  in  this  limitation  by  the  object  of  the 
infinite  activity  of  the  Ego.  This  activity  is  the  prodiwtive 
imagination  (die  productive  Eiribildungskraft},  which  by  an  un- 
conscious action  creates  the  object,  or  rather  a  representation  of 
the  object,  and  owing  to  the  very  fact  that  its  action  is 
unconscious,  makes  the  object  appear  as  a  thing  external 
to,  and  independent  of  us. 

Schelling  begins  by  developing  Fichte's  theory  (Ideen  zu 
einer  Philosophic  der  NaMr,  1797).  He  defines  matter  by 
starting  from  the  nature  of  intuition,  but  soon  abandons  this 
Subjective  Idealism,  and  for  the  Ego  substitutes  the  Absolute, 
which  is  neither  subject  nor  object,  but  comprises  and  precedes 
both  terms.  Philosophy  must  turn  alternately  from  thought 
to  Nature  and  from  Nature  to  thought,  in  order  to  reproduce 
the  life  of  the  Absolute,  which  is  the  identity  of  subject  and 
object,  of  Being  and  thought.  Considered  as  objective,  the 
Absolute  is  Nature,  whose  original  identity  with  what  is  given 
to  us  as  intelligence  and  consciousness  is  to  be  made  every 
day  more  clear  by  speculative  physics.  The  first  manifestation 
of  the  Absolute  in  its  objective  form  is  matter.  Here  Schelling 
reproduces  Kant's  conception;  matter  comprises  a  positive 
force  which  resists  all  limitation  by  an  infinite  effort,  namely, 
repulsive  force ;  and  a  negative  force  which  is  opposed  to  the 
former,  namely,  attractive  force.  Eepulsive  force,  which  tends 
to  infinity,  when  it  is  limited  by  the  attractive  gives  us  space 
filled  and  defined,  or  matter.  The  repulsive  and  attractive  forces 
are  reduced  to  weight,  which,  as  the  supreme  principle  of  the 
reality  of  the  forces  involved  in  matter,  is  itself  the  Absolute. 
Thus  Schelling's  philosophy  of  Nature,  like  that  of  Kant,  is  a 
dynamism,  but  a  dynamism  endowed  with  intelligence  and 
reason  to  a  fantastical  degree. 

The  Absolute  for  Hegel  is  the  Idea,  and  the  universe  is 
merely  the  dialectical  evolution  of  the  Idea.  Take  away  from 
an  object  its  rational  element  and  nothing  remains;  therefore 


MATTER  177 

this  rational  element  is  what  constitutes  true  reality.  Nature  is 
the  Idea  becoming  external,  other  than  itself  (die  Idee  in  der  form 
des  Andersseins).  The  Idea,  in  so  far  as  it  is  sundered,  negates, 
itself,  sets  itself  in  opposition  to  itself,  and  becomes  other  or 
an  external  object.  For  the  very  reason  that  it  finds  in 
nature  only  an  imperfect  and  inadequate  expression,  the  Idea 
tends  to  recover  itself,  to  return  to  itself.  Thus  it  is  that 
nature,  with  all  her  potentialities,  throughout  all  her  trans- 
formations tends  towards  Spirit,  a  higher  form  of  the  Idea,  in 
which  it  becomes  conscious  of  itself.  Nature  is  then  a  system 
of  moments  which  proceed  necessarily  one  from  the  other,  and 
each  of  which  is  the  truth  of  the  one  from  which  it  results. 
The  starting-point  of  this  evolution  is  the  sundered  existence 
which  has  the  principle  of  its  form  and  its  unity  outside  itself ; 
in  other  words,  it  is  the  material  and  mechanical  world. 

To  deduce  matter  a  priori,  to  make  it  depend  on  the  logical 
movement  of  the  Idea,  was  no  easy  task,  and,  indeed,  Hegel's- 
abstractions  become  at  this  point  somewhat  unintelligible. 
Space  is  ideal  contiguity ;  it  is  pure  and  abstract  exter- 
nality. Time  is  ideal  succession,  pure  becoming.  Time  and 
Space  are  the  most  abstract  categories  of  nature ;  with  them 
Hegel  constructs  according  to  the  process  of  his  dialectic,  place, 
motion,  and  finally  matter,  which  is  their  immediate  unity. 
Matter  comprises  a  repulsive  and  an  attractive  force ;  the 
identity  of  repulsion  and  attraction  constitutes  weight,  in 
which  the  notion  of  material  substance  is  completed  and 
realized. 

Materialism  in  Germany  :  Feuerbach,  Bilchner,  and  Moleschott* 

The  great  Idealistic  systems  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel 
were  followed  in  Germany  by  a  materialistic  reaction,  the 
causes  of  which  are  to  be  found  chiefly  in  the  progress  of 
the  natural  sciences  and  of  commerce.  A  small  portion  of 
the  Hegelian  school  itself  inclined,  if  not  towards  Materialism, 
at  least  towards  a  Sensationalism  which  would  inevitably  lead 
to  it.  The  principal  representative  of  this  tendency  is  Ludwig 
Feuerbach.  "  Truth,  reality,  the  world  of  sense  are  identical. 
The  sensible  thing  alone  is  true,  real ;  the  world  of  sense  alone 
is  truth,  reality.  Body  forms  part  of  my  being,  nay  more, 
my  whole  body  is  my  self,  my  very  being  "  (Grundsatze  der 

II.  M 


178  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Philosophic  der  Zukunft,  1849).  Feuerbach,  however,  deduces 
from  these  principles  a  sensationalism  which  was  idealistic 
rather  than  materialistic. 

Two  philosophers  in  particular  have  contributed  to  this 
revival  of  Materialism — Moleschott  and  Biichner.  Moleschott, 
in  his  Xreislauf  des  Lebens  (1852),  sets  out,  like  Feuerbach, 
from  sensationalism,  whence  he  deduces  a  materialistic  theory. 
Matter  is  inseparably  united  to  force.  Both  are  eternal,  and 
there  is  a  perpetual  exchange  or  circulation  of  force  and 
matter.  He  waxes  poetic  when  he  considers  the  metamor- 
phoses of  this  indestructible  and  ever-moving  substance  : 

The  exchange  of  the  forms  of  matter  is  an  everlasting  force,  "  an  ever- 
flowing  fountain  of  youth.  .  .  .  What  is  there  ignoble  in  a  theory  which 
makes  us  regard  every  repast  as  a  sacrament  (Abendmahl),  in  which  we  con- 
vert unthinking  matter  into  thinking  beings,  in  which  we  truly  partake 
of  the  flesh  and  blood  of  the  Spirit,  and  thus  through  our  children's 
children  diffuse  spirit  into  every  part  of  the  world  and  throughout 
every  age  ?"  (Kreislauf  des  Lebens,  pp.  437,  439). 

Buchner  (Force  and  Matter,  1855)  also  makes  empiricism  his 
starting  point.  Experience  alone  can  lead  us  to  truth ;  ex- 
perience excludes  all  supersensible  knowledge,  and  through  it 
we  apprehend  relations  only,  things  existing  only  in  their 
relation  to  one  another.  Force  and  matter  are  inseparable; 
both  are  eternal.  Thought,  however,  is  inclined  to  separate 
them,  and  even  to  regard  them  as  opposed  to  each  other. 

We  are  unable  to  define  mind  and  force  otherwise  than  as  immaterial, 
as  excluding  matter,  or  as  antithetical  to  it.  "  The  words,  mind,  spirit, 
thought,  sensibility,  volition,  life,  designate  no  entities  and  nothing  real, 
but  only  properties,  capacities,  actions  of  the  living  substance,  or  results 
of  entities  which  are  based  upon  the  material  form  of  existence.  He 
compares  this  result  to  that  of  a  steam-engine,  the  force  of  which  is  in- 
visible, inodorous,  and  intangible,  while  the  steam  it  emits  is  a  secondary 
thing,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  •'  be-all  and  end-all  of  the  machine.' " 
(Lange's  Hist,  of  Materialism  II,  115). 

As  we  see,  Biichner's  theory  provides  no  distinct  definition 
of  either  matter  or  force.  The  ancient  materialists  were  more 
consistent  and  more  intelligible  when  they  reduced  all  force  to 
motion,  to  the  pressure  and  impact  of  matter. 

As  was  to  be  expected  in  the  country  that  had  given  birth 
to  Kant,  many  German  thinkers  protested  against  Materialism 


MATTER  179 

on  the  ground  of  the  nature  and  limits  of  our  knowledge. 
Dubois-Reymond  (Limits  of  our  Knowledge  of  Nature)  maintains 
that  the  materialistic  theory  which  is  so  convenient  for  the 
explanation  of  phenomena  is  far  from  being  an  ultimate 
explanation  of  things.  In  reality,  what  we  possess  as  regards 
nature  is  not  knowledge  but  a  show  of  explanation  or  a  sub- 
stitute for  knowledge.  Materialism  has  to  confront  two 
insoluble  difficulties.  (1)  We  are  unable  to  understand  the 
atoms  ;  we  cannot  represent  to  ourselves  a  thing  entirely  with- 
out sensible  qualities,  while  at  the  same  time  all  our  know- 
ledge tends  to  convert  these  qualities  into  mathematical 
relations.  (2)  We  cannot  explain  any  single  one  of  the 
phenomena  of  consciousness  by  means  of  atoms  and  motion. 

Lange  (History  of  Materialism},  adopting  the  point  of  view, 
of  Critical  Idealism,  admits  that  Materialism  is  an  excellent 
formula  for  the  study  of  nature,  and  in  fact  the  only  true 
and  scientific  form  an  explanation  of  natural  phenomena  can 
take ;  but  to  imagine  that  it  is  an  ultimate  and  definitive 
solution  of  the  metaphysical  problem  is  a  naive  illusion,  arising 
out  of  that  other  illusion  which  consists  in  taking  the 
phenomenal  world  of  space  and  time  as  the  type  of  true 
reality.  The  study  of  the  objective  world  as  governed  by  the 
laws  of  determinism  is  not  the  sole  function  of  thought :  it 
has  another  and  higher  task  to  perform.  Owing  to  its  power 
of  poetic  creation,  the  mind  is  able  to  conceive  the  existence, 
alongside  of  the  objective  world,  of  an  ideal  world,  more 
beautiful,  more  harmonious,  better  adapted  than  the  other  to 
its  true  needs,  to  its  secret  tendencies — a  world  in  which  it 
enjoys  full  independence  and  a  complete  autonomy.. 


CHAPTER  III 
MIND 

THOSE  philosophers  who  deny  the  existence  of  matter  yet  find 
themselves  obliged  to  give  some  explanation  of  the  phenomenon 
which  awakens  the  idea  of  matter  in  the  human  mind  ;  even  the 
most  uncompromising  Idealists  have  had  to  assume  a  principle  of 
limitation  and  of  passivity :  thus  the  problem  of  matter  forces 
itself  upon  every  system  of  philosophy,  including  those  which 
deny  that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  matter.  And  the  case  is 
the  same  with  the  problem  of  mind.  An  explanation  must  be 
found  for  the  activity  and  relative  order  which  seem  to  be 
the  conditions  of  existence  in  the  world,  and  for  the  will  and 
self-conscious  intelligence  found  in  man.  In  this  wide  sense, 
the  problem  of  mind  has  had  to  be  faced  by  every  school  and 
every  system,  for  it  enters  as  a  necessary  element  into  every 
philosophy  of  nature  and  of  thought. 

Progressive  Distinction  between  the  Corporeal  and  Spiritual, 
from  Tholes  to  Socrates. 

The  distinction  between  soul  and  body  was,  with  primitive 
man,  the  result  of  the  experience  of  death  :  a  man  was  alive, 
he  dies,  and  his  body,  which  has  still  the  same  appearance,  has 
lost  all  power  of  motion  and  feeling.  The  idea  of  the  soul 
contained  at  first  no  elements  except  those  which  could  be 
directly  deduced  from  this  experience  (Zeller,  Pre-Socratic 
Philosophy,  Eng.  tr.  I,  p.  124).  The  soul  was  like  a  breath  of 
air,  it  was  a  subtle  body,  sometimes  conceived  in  the  likeness 
of  the  phantoms  seen  in  dreams.  For  Homer,  however,  the 


MIND  181 

soul  is  a  kind  of  image  in  the  form  of  the  body,  and  it  escapes 
at  the  moment  of  death  through  the  mouth  or  through  an  open 
wound.  When  separated  from  the  physical  organism  it  is  only 
a  shade  (ei§<a\ov)  without  strength,  or  consciousness,  or  recollec- 
tion (Odyss.  X,  490  sq.;  XI,  34, 151,  215,  etc.).  The  world  is  con- 
ceived on  the  analogy  of  man,  and  all  nature  is  supposed  to  be 
full  of  souls  like  that  which  man  believes  he  possesses  himself. 

We  recognize  the  influence  of  these  primitive  conceptions  in 
the  first  period  of  philosophy.  The  distinction  between  soul 
and  body  was  not  as  yet  a  distinction  between  material  and 
spiritual  elements.  The  old  Ionic  philosophers  sought  the  first 
principles  of  things  in  a  living  matter  which  was  transformed 
in  a  progressive  evolution  (Doctrine  of  Hylozoism).  Whether 
this  matter  be  water,  air,  or  fire,  or  an  indeterminate  Infinite 
(as  with  Anaximander),  it  is  always  identified  with  the  force 
that  moves  and  animates  it.  When,  with  the  progress  of 
reflection,  a  place  was  given  amongst  the  principles  of  nature, 
not  only  to  force,  but  to  intelligence,  reason  was  conceived 
as  merely  another  attribute  of  the  primary  matter  (e.g.  the 
"  thinking  air "  of  Diogenes  of  Apollonia). 

The  fire  of  Heraclitus  is  a  Eeason  which  mingles  with 
everything,  and  which  out  of  the  strife  of  contraries  brings 
forth  harmony.  The  human  soul  is  made  of  warm  and 
dry  vapours.  The  purer  the  fire,  the  more  perfect  the  soul. 
"  The  soul  that  is  the  most  dry  is  the  best  and  most  pure"  (Frag. 
54).  "  If  the  drunken  man  cannot  contain  himself,  it  is  because 
his  soul  is  soiled  by  moisture  "  (Frag.  53).  The  soul,  like  every- 
thing else,  is  subject  to  the  law  of  change,  and  must  therefore 
nourish  itself  with  the  external  fire  in  order  not  to  be  exhausted. 
Eeason,  which  is  identical  with  fire,  enters  into  our  bodies  through 
the  organs  of  sensation,  and  through  respiration.  When  the 
organs  of  sense  close  in  sleep,  the  flame  of  reason  darkens  ;  when 
they  open  again  on  our  awakening,  it  lights  up  once  more.  But 
it  is  extinguished  for  ever  when  man  loses  connection  through 
respiration  with  the  external  world. 

Parmenides,  who  taught  the  absolute  unity  of  Being,  and 
denied  all  becoming,  did  not  need  any  principle  to  explain 
the  apparent  motion  and  order  in  things.  For  him  the 
multiplicity  of  souls  is  only  an  illusion.  His  philosophy  of 
nature  is  a  concession  to  the  demands  of  common  sense ;  that 


182  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

is  to  say,  it  rests  upon  what  seems  to  him  to  be  the  most 
plausible  theory.  Far  from  setting  up  any  antithesis  between 
the  spiritual  and  the  corporeal,  he  explains  all  psychological 
phenomena  by  the  mixture  of  substances  in  the  body. 

The  Pythagoreans  thought  they  had  found  an  adequate 
explanation  of  the  cosmic  order  when  they  made  Number  the 
substance  of  things.  Harmony  was  placed  above  Number,  as  a 
kind  of  soul  of  the  world  governing  the  cosmos;  if  there  was 
harmony  in  the  universe,  it  was  because  the  essential  con- 
stituent of  things,  namely,  Number,  was  itself  harmony.  How 
did  the  first  Pythagoreans  conceive  the  human  soul  ?  Aristotle, 
in  his  review  of  the  opinions  of  his  predecessors  concerning  the 
soul,  merely  says  of  the  Pythagoreans  that  "  some  among  them 
sought  the  soul  in  particles  that  are  in  motion :  TIJV  ^rvyyv 
elvai  TCI  ev  T<a  aepi  ^ucr/xara,  01  $e  TO  TO.VTO.  KIVOVV  "  (Zte 
Anima,  I,  2,  404  a,  '1-6).  To  the  Pythagoreans  the  opinion  is 
also  attributed  that  the  soul  is  a  harmony.  But  as  everything 
with  them  was  number  and  harmony,  this  does  not  imply  any 
distinction  between  human  souls  and  other  things.  Did  they 
regard  the  soul  as  the  harmony  of  the  body,  as  we  are  told  in 
the  Phaedo  ?  It  is  difficult  to  reconcile  this  opinion  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  immortality  and  transmigration  of  souls  taught 
by  the  Pythagoreans. 

In  Democritus  we  find  a  frankly  materialistic  theory  of  the 
.soul.  Motion  being  eternal,  there  is  no  need  to  distinguish 
matter  from  the  force  that  moves  it.  The  soul  is  corporeal, 
and  its  substance  must  correspond  to  its  functions.  Now,  the  soul 
is  a  vivifying  and  moving  force.  But  all  motion  arises  out  of 
an  impact ;  therefore  the  soul  must  be  composed  of  the  most 
mobile  substance,  of  atoms  that  are  subtile,  smooth,  and  round ; 
in  other  words,  of  fire  (Arist.  De  Anima,  I,  2,  403  b,  29).  The 
universe  is  full  of  fiery  atoms.  The  soiil  is  therefore  not  a 
force  that  organizes  the  world,  but  a  part  of  matter,  and  it  is 
formed  out  of  the  multitude  of  fiery  atoms  which  engender 
motion  and  life.  In  man  .the  soul  pervades  the  whole  body; 
between  every  two  corporeal  atoms  a  psychical  atom  is 
inserted  (Lucr.  Ill,  370).  It  might  be  supposed  that  the 
fiery  atoms  would  be  driven  out  of  the  body  by  the 
surrounding  air,  but.  this  danger  is  averted  by  respiration 
which  introduces  new  fiery  elements,  and  above  all  forms  an 


MIND  183 

opposite  current,  which  prevents  the  psychical  atoms  in  the 
body  from  escaping. 

Heraclitus'  theory  of  the  soul,  the  substitution  in  the  Eleatic 
and  Pythagorean  systems  of  an  abstract  principle  for  a 
material  element,  the  general  progress  of  Greek  thought,  all 
helped  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  distinction  between  the 
material  and  the  spiritual.  Anaxagoras  was  the  first  of  the 
Greek  philosophers  to  formulate  clearly  this  distinction,  and,  for 
this,  Aristotle  greatly  honours  him  :  "  he  was  like  a  sober 
man  amongst  men  who  spoke  at  random  "  :  olov  viicjxav  ecpavtj 
Trap  eiKfl  Ae-yoi/ra?  (Meta.  I,  3,  984  b,  16).  In  the  beginning, 
all  the  elementary  substances  are  mixed  up  together.  The 
distinction  and  combination  of  like  particles  are  the  '  work  of 
an  organizing  and  motor  force,  namely,  Nou?,  intelligence  : 
•jrdvra  f/v  o/uwf,  6  Noi/9  e\6wv  iravra  Si€Kocr/Li.t](re. 

Anaxagoras  distinctly  separates  matter  from  the  force  by 
which  it  is  moved  and  governed  ;  but  the  attributes  by  which 
he  characterizes  intelligence,  show  that  his  notion  of  it  was 
not  yet  very  clear. 

The  Novs  is  simple,  and  not  like  all  other  things,  composed  of  hetero- 
geneous elements.  Mixing  with  nothing  it  exists  alone  and  of  itself, 
"  fj.ovvos  avxbs  e<£'  etovTou  «TTIV  "  (Frag.  8).  It  is  infinite  (aTret/DOv), 
independent  (avTo/cpares),  never  passive  (aTrafles),  it  has  unlimited 
knowledge,  "knows  what  is  mixed,  what  is  distinct,  and  what  is 
separate"  (Simpl.  De  Gael.  271  a,  20).  Lastly,  it  has  absolute  power 
over  matter,  to  which  it  alone  can  communicate  motion  :  "  yvoj/iiyv  irepl 
Tracrav  tercet  KCU  icr^i'€6  p.fjurTov  "  (Frag.  8). 


Such  is  the  spiritual  element  in  the  conception  which 
Anaxagoras  formed  of  the  Nou9.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  his 
Now?  is  described  as  the  most  subtile  of  all  things  :  XexToVaroK 
(Frag.  8)  ;  its  quality  does  not  change,  but  its  quantity  varies. 
The  souls  of  other  beings  are  parts  of  it  ;  and  these  parts  may 
be  either  greater  or  smaller.  "  In  everything  there  are  parts 
of  everything  except  perhaps  of  intelligence,  but  in  some 
beings  there  is  also  intelligence  "  (Frag.  7).  The  Not/?  was 
thus  a  kind  of  world-soul,  an  intermediate  substance,  which 
was  akin  to  the  spiritual  in  so  far  as  it  was  simple,  inde- 
pendent, and  intelligent,  and  to  what  is  corporeal,  in  so  far 
as  it  possessed  quantity,  and  perhaps  also  extension. 


184  THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Socrates  himself  tells  us  (Phaedo,  97  b)  that  he  was  delighted 
with  the  theory  of  Anaxagoras ;  but  he  would  seem  to  have 
merely  enlarged  the  province  of  an  intelligence  that  loved  the 
good.  His  God  is  a  kind  of  world-soul  (rj  eV  TO)  Travri  (pp6vr]<ris), 
&  wisdom  which  pervaded  all  things.  The  soul  of  man  is 
only  a  small  part  of  the  universal  intelligence,  just  as  his 
body  only  contains  a  very  small  portion  of  the  material 
elements  (Mem.  I,  4).  This  soul,  although  invisible,  exists  and 
is  the  sovereign  ruler  of  the  body  ({Saa-iXevei  ev  qjjttur);  and,  as 
reason,  it,  more  than  anything  else  in  man,  participates  in  the 
divine. 

Plato :  the  Soul  of  the  World  and  Individual  Souls. 

It  is  not  easy  to  disengage  Plato's  theory  of  the  soul  from 
the  symbolic  form  in  which  he  clothes  it.  The  world  is  an 
animated,  living  whole,  which  has  a  body  and  a  soul.  The 
soul  of  the  world,  fashioned  directly  by  the  demiurgus,  in 
proportions  that  are  mathematical  and  musical  (Timaeus,  35  b 
sq.),  is  a  middle  term  between  the  intelligible  and  the  sensible. 
God  puts  intelligence  into  the  soul  and  the  soul  into  the  body 
{Tim.  30  b).  To  fulfil  its  rdle  of  medium,  the  soul  must  possess 
something  of  each  of  the  two  opposite  natures  which  are  recon- 
ciled in  it.  In  the  soul  are  blended  the  one  and  the  many 
(Tim.  35  a).  What  moves  itself  must  exist  before  that  which 
is  moved  by  something  else.  The  soul  possesses  in  itself  the 
principle  of  its  own  movement.  It  moves  the  body  according 
to  numerical  and  harmonical  relations ;  it  makes  the  world 
into  a  wise  mixture  of  the  Limit  and  the  Unlimited  (Trepas, 
aireipov).  This  soul,  this  principle  of  harmony,  is  a  reality 
(oucr/a),  a  substance  extended  throughout  the  world  by  the 
demiurgus  and  divided  according  to  harmonical  relations 
which  correspond  to  the  laws  followed  by  the  motion  of  the 
stars  (Tim.  34  b  sq.\  The  soul  is  not  only  the  principle  of 
the  visible  order  in  things,  it  is  also  the  principle  of  all 
knowledge ;  and  this  is  another  reason  why  it  combines  in 
its  nature  the  same  (rcti/roV)  and  the  other  (TO  erepov),  the 
intelligible  and  the  sensible;  for  in  Plato's  theory  like  can 
only  be  known  by  like  (Tim.  37  a).  This  account  of  the 
soul  is  evidently  partly  symbolical,  and  not  meant  to  be  taken 
literally.  According  to  Aristotle,  it  is  TO.  /maOtj/maTiKa,  the 


MIND  185 

mathematical  elements,  that  are  the  middle  term  between  the 
sensible  and  the  intelligible,  and  they  perform  the  same 
function  as  the  world-soul  in  the  Timaeus  (Met.  I,  6 ; 
987  a,  14).  The  mathematical  forms  are  eternal,  not  subject 
to  becoming,  and  are  distinguished  from  the  Idea  in  that  each 
Idea  is  one,  whereas  there  are  several  similar  mathematical 
forms.  Since  matter,  as  such,  is  Non-being,  we  may  say  that 
what  is  real  in  the  world-soul,  as  in  the  mathematical  forms, 
is  the  Idea,  and  that,  consequently,  the  Idea  is  the  ultimate 
principle  of  order  and  motion  in  the  world  of  bodies  (see  Zeller, 
II,  I,  p.  568,  Germ.  ed.). 

The  individual  souls  appear  to  be  parts  of  the  world-soul,  as 
the  elements  of  the  body  were  parts  of  the  universe  (Philebus, 
30  a).  The  stars  are  the  highest  among  the  beings  that  have  an 
individual  soul,  and  next  to  them  are  men.  The  soul  cannot 
be  regarded  as  a  collective  unity,  as  the  harmony  of  the  body 
(Phaedo,  92  b  sq.) ;  it  is  incorporeal,  simple,  invisible,  and 
existed  before  the  body  which  it  governs.  TU>  /u.ev  #e/o>  KOI 
aBavaTU)  KCU  vorjTw  KCU  juovoeiSei  KCJU  a$ia\VT(i)  /ecu  aei  oxrairra>9 
teat  KCITO,  TOUT"  e^ovTi  eavTti)  o/jLOioTCLTOv  elvai  \|/-in£>/j/  (Phaedo, 
806). 

There  are  three  parts  in  the  soul ;  the  first,  the  vovs,  is 
divine ;  the  second,  which  is  fleeting  and  mortal,  is  desire, 
e-mOviuLia ;  the  third,  whose  function  it  is  to  unite  these  two 
extremes,  is  the  QV/J.OS,  which  has  something  of  the  nature  of 
each  of  the  two  others.  These  three  parts  of  the  soul 
represent  the  three  classes  of  living  beings.  To  the  e7nOu/x/a 
correspond  plants ;  to  the  6v/u.6$,  animals ;  to  the  i>ov$,  men. 

Aristotle :  the  Soul,  the  Formal,  Efficient,  and  Final  Cause  of 
the  Body. 

Aristotle  finds  no  unity  in  the  world  except  that  which 
results  from  a  universal  tendency  towards  the  same  perfection, 
that  is,  towards  God ;  in  his  system,  therefore,  a  world-soul  is 
not  required.  In  the  sphere  of  change  every  being  is  the 
product  of  the  union  of  matter  and  form  :  ova-la  <rvvo\ov  e£  vXrjs 
teat  ei'^ou?  (Meta.  VIII,  2).  Matter  is  the  substratum  (VTTOK€I- 
/jievov},  which  becomes  this  or  the  other,  or  is  the  subject  of 
change.  The  form  (ef^o?,  /mopcfrrji)  is  that  which  makes  of 
matter  a  particular,  determinate,  or  real  thing ;  it  is  the  per- 


186  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

fection,  the  activity,  the  soul  of  the  thing.  Since  everything 
that  becomes  has  its  formal  cause,  which  is  its  principle  (oOev 
%  **PX*1  T*7?  Kivijcrews)  and  its  end  (reXo?,  TO  ou  CVCKO),  one  may 
say  that  there  is  in  every  being  a  principle  analogous  to  the 
soul.  The  soul  is  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  the  first 
entelechy  J  (ei/reXe^em  Trpwrr]}  of  an  organized  body  potentially 
possessing  life  (De  An.  II,  1  ;  412  a,  15);  the  entelechy  of  the 
eye  is  the  action  of  looking  at  something  at  a  given  moment, 
(opaari?).  Suppose  the  eye  were  by  itself  a  complete  living 
thing,  its  soul  would  be  o-vj/-t?,  the  faculty  of  vision.  The  o\J/-*? 
is  the  essence,  the  form  of  the  eye.  The  soul  is  to  the  body 
what  the  o\J/-t?,  vision,  is  to  the  eye,  and  in  this  sense  it  has 
something  of  the  body  (rt  o-<o/xa-ro9) ;  but  this  something  is 
neither  figure  nor  motion,  but  the  peculiar  activity  which 
gives  to  the  body  figure  and  motion,  the  cause  of  the  agreement 
and  harmony  between  all  its  parts  (De  An.  II,  4  ;  415  b,  7).  In 
a  living  being  the  body  is  the  material  cause ;  the  soul  stands 
to  it  jn  the  relation  of  its  entelechy,  of  its  formal,  efficient,  and 
final  cause.  The  soul  is  the  end  of  the  body,  an  end  which  is 
real,  immanent,  and  not  a  mere  regulative  idea  external  to  it& 
functions.  This  end  is  the  immovable  cause  of  all  the  move- 
ments directed  towards  itself ;  therefore,  we  must  not  say  with 
Plato,  that  the  soul  moves  itself,  for  it  moves  as  a  sailor  moves 
on  his  ship  (De  An.  404  a). 

The  soul,  being  the  end  of  the  body,  cannot  be  a  material, 
indeterminate  thing ;  it  must  be  a  finished,  defined  being, 
not  merely  any  substance  in  general,  but  the  form  of  a  special 
body,  whose  life,  individuality,  and  organization  it  con- 
stitutes (De  An.  41 4  a,  21).  The  soul,  the  final  and  formal 
cause  of  the  body,  is  also  its  efficient  cause,  since  it  gives 
rise  to,  and  directs  all  its  movements  and  is  the  real,  the  first 
entelechy,  which  realizes  throughout  the  body  all  the  con- 
ditions of  life.  The  soul  is  therefore,  with  regard  to  its  divisible 
and  material  body,  the  indivisible  unity  of  the  three  causes^ 

1  The  first  entelechy  is  to  the  second  what  science  is  to  actual  thought. 
The  geometer  is  not  always  occupied  with  geometry.  If  the  eye  were  a 
living  thing,  vision  would  be  the  soul  of  the  eye.  The  faculty  of  seeing 
(first  entelechy)  can  be  distinguished  from  the  act  itself  of  seeing  any 
particular  object  (second  entelechy).  The  eye  is  always  adapted  for  vision^ 
even  when  it  is  covered. 


MIND  187 

the  efficient,  formal,  and  final.  The  two  terms  presuppose 
or  imply  one  another.  The  soul  is  not  in  the  body  as  in  a 
dwelling,  which  it  may  abandon ;  it  ca'nttoit/  travel/  frpm 
body  to  body,  being  able  to  exist  only  in  the'  body/  tfc^t 
corresponds  to  its  essence,  and  whioh  by  this  very7  faet  it 
creates  (De  An.  407  b,  13). 

There  are  three  kinds  of  souls  corresponding  to  the  three 
forms  of  life  found  in  Nature  :  these  are  the  vegetable,the  animal, 
and  the  human  soul.  The  soul  of  plants  is  TO  Qpe-jrriKov,  nutritive, 
(De  An.  4135,7),  and  its  functions  are  nutrition  and  genera- 
tion. The  soul  of  the  animal  is  anrQijTiat,  sensitive  (De  An. 
4136,  1);  sensation  gives  rise  to  desire,  and  desire  to  motion. 
The  human  soul  is  characterized  by  reason.  The  vegetable 
soul  has  a  special,  independent  existence  in  the  plant,  and  in 
the  animal  it  blends  with  the  sensitive  soul ;  the  rational  soul 
in  its  higher  life  comprises  and  unifies  the  two  inferior  souls 
and  their  functions. 

After  Aristotle  the  notion  of  the  Spiritual  disappears.  The 
Epicureans  :  Elements  of  the  Soul.  The  Stoics :  the  -n-vevna. 

After  Plato  and  Aristotle  the  conception  of  the  spiritual 
became  very  obscure.  The  Epicureans  returned  to  Atomism  and 
to  the  conception  of  a  material  soul.  Nothing  was  incorporeal 
except  the  void,  which  was  neither  active  nor  passive.  The  soul 
was  composed  of  very  subtle  elements  ;  and  they  gave  two  proofs 
of  this  subtlety  :  in  the  first  place,  the  promptitude  with,  which 
the  will  moves  the  body  ;  in  the  second  place,  the  fact  that  a 
man  when  dead  weighs  as  much  as  when  alive  (Lucretius,  III, 
178,  231  et  seq).  What  were  the  elements  of  the  Epicurean  soul  ? 
Lucretius  distinguishes  in  it  a  light  breath  (aura),  heat,  (calor), 
and  air  (aer).  To  these  three  elements  is  added  a  fourth,  omnino 
nominis  expers  (III,  243),  which  is  the  most  subtile  of  all,  and  is 
composed  of  the  smallest  and  smoothest  atoms.  It  is  this  fourth 
element  that  communicates  motion  and  sensibility,  first  to  the 
aura,  the  calor,  and  the  aer,  then  to  the  blood,  then  to  the 
viscera,  and  finally  to  the  bones  and  muscles.  These  four 
elements,  closely  united,  mixed,  and,  as  it  were,  fused  together, 
are  present  in  every  part  of  the  body.  Thought  corresponds 
to  the  most  subtile  of  them ;  and  to  each  of ,  the  others 
there  corresponds  a  special  quality :  Heat  is  the  principle  of 


188  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

courage  ;  the  aura,  of  fear  ;  the  air,  of  calmness  and  indifference. 
Heat  predominates  in  the  lion,  aura  in  the  stag,  aer  in  the  ox. 
In  man  all  throe  kinds  of  temperament  are  found. 
,  %  \  \  The  Stoics  also,  on  their  part,  said  that  all  that  is  real  is 
corporeal,  but  they  endowed  matter  with  attributes  which 
belong  properly  only  to  a  spiritual  substance.  The  ideas  of  the 
spiritual  and  the  corporeal,  which  since  Plato  and  Aristotle 
had  seemed  to  be  clearly  distinguished,  were  now  once  more  con- 
founded. The  world,  on  the  Stoic  system,  is  a  living  thing,  an 
immense  animal ;  matter  is  its  body,  force  its  soul.  But  this  force 
is  not  incorporeal ;  it  is  a  subtle  fire,  a  principle  homogeneous 
and  co-extensive  with  its  effects ;  it  pervades  matter  in  a 
material  way,  gives  it  form  and  embraces  and  contains  it. 
This  corporeal  soul,  this  burning  and  thinking  breath  (7rvei//xa), 
this  organizing  fire  is  God  Himself  (Stob.  Ed.  I,  56).  "  God 
flows  through  the  world  like  honey  in  the  honeycomb " 
(Tertull.  De  An.  44).  His  supreme  intelligence  manifests 
itself  in  the  order  of  the  world  and  in  human  thought.  God, 
a  material  soul  infused  into  the  vast  body,  which  it  animates 
and  in  which  it  moves,  is  the  seminal  reason  (Xo'yo? 
(nrep/maTiKo?)  of  the  universe  (D.L.  VII,  136).  All  activity  can 
be  reduced  to  motion  in  space,  therefore  all  activity  is  physical, 
and  hence  necessary.  The  soul  of  the  world  is  at  once  Fate 
and  Providence. 

The  human  soul  is  a  fragment  of  God,  cnr6(nra(Tfj.a  TOV  Qeov 
(Epict.  Diss.  I,  14,  6),  a  part  of  the  divine  breath  immersed  in 
the  human  body  (in  corpus  humanum  pars  divini  spiritus  mersa) 
(Sen.  Ep.  LXVI,  11).  The  soul,  says  Chrysippus  (ap.  Galen, 
Hippoc.  and  Plat.  Ill,  1),  is  an  innate  breath  in  us  which 
pervades  the  whole  body  and  contains  it.  fj  -^vyy  Trvev/ma  ecrrt 
<rv/u.d)VTOV  fifj.lv  (Twe^es  TravTi  TW  <TU>/JLO.TI  SiiJKOv.  This  Trvev/uLu  is 
composed  of  air  and  fire  (ex  aere  et  igne).  The  soul  is  thus  a 
material  principle  of  the  nature  of  air,  and  of  fire.  The  Stoics 
proved  the  materiality  of  the  soul  directly,  by  its  sympathy  with 
the  body,  by  its  presence  throughout  the  organism,  and  lastly, 
by  the  moral  resemblance  between  children  and  their  parents. 
The  soul  supports  the  elements  of  the  body  (e£i?),  presides 
over  its  development  ((fivcris),  and  is  the  principle  of  intellectual 
life  ("vf'i'X1?)-  This  hierarchy  of  functions  does  not  affect  the 
unity  of  the  soul,  which  is  always  one  and  the  same  divine 


MIND  189- 

fire,  fulfilling  divers  functions  in  the  different  material  sub- 
stances. The  soul  proper  comprises  eight  parts  :  the  r/ye/moviicov 
or  ruling  part,  the  five  senses,  the  faculty  of  speech  and  the 
faculty  of  reproduction. 

The  Soul  and  the  Trvev^a,  Influence  of  Hebrew  Theology;- 
Philo;  the  New  Testament, 

The  theory  of  the  Trvev/ma  is  not  peculiar  to  Stoicism;  on  the 
contrary,  it  played  a  most  important  part  in  physiology,  and 
dominated  the  whole  of  medical  psychology,  till  the  date  of  the- 
discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  The  Trvev/ua.  in  a. 
material  sense  was  sometimes  regarded  as  the  soul  itself,, 
sometimes  as  the  chief  organ  of  the  soul,  the  medium  between 
mind  and  body.  For  primitive  man  the  soul  was  a  breath, 
a  subtle  air.  According  to  Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  thought  is. 
born  of  the  air  which  flows  with  the  blood  through  the  veins, 
all  over  the  body.  Eespiration,  says  Heraclitus,  nourishes  the- 
soul  with  the  surrounding  air,  without  which  there  is  neither- 
life  nor  reason.  In  the  physiological  explanation  offered  by- 
Hippocrates,  the  air,  inhaled  and  mixed  with  the  internal 
heat,  plays  the  part  of  a  dynamic  principle.  Most  of  the 
physicians,  even  while  belonging  to  different  philosophical 
schools,  regarded  the  Trvevfta.  not  only  as  the  vital  force  which 
organizes  and  sustains  the  body,  but  as  the  soul  itself.  The 
illustrious  Galen,  who  gave  a  definite  form  to  the  physiological 
and  medical  theory  of  the  Trvev/ma,  was  not  decided  as  to- 
whether  it  is  the  soul  itself  or  the  chief  organ  of  the  soul. 

For  the  Stoics,  the  irvevfjia  was  corporeal,  but  had  never- 
theless all  the  attributes  of  the  mind.  This  involved  a  contra- 
diction, in  consequence  of  which  the  theory  of  the  Trvevna 
gradually  came  to  resemble  the  Platonic  theory  of  an  im- 
material soul.  This  transformation  was  chiefly  due  to  contact 
with  Hebrew  theology.  The  Hebrew  expression  which  corre- 
sponds to  the  Greek  word  Trvev/ma  (Ruach)  had  at  the  beginning  a 
material  meaning.  It  was  the  air,  the  wind — in  living  beings 
respiration,  the  vital  breath  which  circulated  with  the  blood.. 
But  the  Biblical  conception  of  God  led  to  a  spiritualizing  of 
the  TTvevfjLa.  Jehovah  is  distinguished  from  His  work ;  He 
creates  the  world  by  an  act  of  His  will.  The  irvev^a  could 
not  therefore  be,  as  with  the  Greeks,  a  material  element  which 


190  THE   PKOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

acted  upon  matter  in  a  mechanical  way.  It  was  a  principle 
distinct  from  the  body,  like  the  principle  of  force  and  life. 
Still  the  Old  Testament  always  speaks  of  the  TTVCUJULU  as  of  a 
semi-physical  force  :  e.g.  God's  spirit  leaves  Him  and  is  diffused 
like  a  breath.  In  the  Book  of  Wisdom  which  is  attributed  to 
Solomon,  but  appears  to  have  been  written  about  the  time  of 
Augustus,  wisdom,  that  is  God's  power,  which  fills  the  world, 
is  a  TTj/eu/xa,  a  breath  which  fuses  together  the  attributes 
of  matter  and  rnind  ( TroXu/xe^oe? — XCTTTOI^ — 6£y — Sia  Travrwv 
•^wpovv  Trvev/uLOLTtav,  all  of  these  being  characteristics  which 
remind  us  of  the  Stoic  Materialism). 

Philo  was  the  most  renowned  of  the  Alexandrian  Jews 
who  endeavoured  to  reconcile  Judaism  with  Hellenism.  With 
him  the  theory  of  the  -jrvevna  takes  a  decidedly  spiritual  form, 
although  in  his  writings  we  find  more  than  one  contradiction, 
in  which  we  discern  the  influence  of  the  Stoics  and  of  the 
Greek  physicians.  Jehovah,  the  unknowable  God,  cannot  act 
directly  on  matter ;  it  is  therefore  through  intermediaries  that 
He  governs  the  world.  All  those  divine  forces,  all  those 
powers  by  which  the  world  is  bound  to  God,  are  comprised  in 
Wisdom  or  the  Word.  Philo's  AO'T-O?  is  a  more  or  less 
coherent  synthesis  of  the  Hebrew  Wisdom,  the  Aristotelian 
Not/9  and  the  Platonic  world  of  ideas.  The  divine  Trvev/na  is 
nothing  but  a  form  of  the  activity  of  the  Word  ;  it  is  the  Word 
in  so  far  as  the  latter  not  only  represents  the  Ideas,  the  eternal 
exemplars  in  God's  mind,  but  in  so  far  as  it  realizes  them  in 
the  world.  Like  the  Trvev/jia  itself,  the  Aoyo?  is  spiritual,  and 
yet  Philo  adopts  the  Stoic  materialistic  definition  of  quality: 

efy$   TTV6V/U.O.   ai>Tt(TTp€<poV   €(J)'   €O.VTO. 

Philo's  psychology  presents  the  same  spiritual  character  and 
the  same  contradictions.  Space  is  full  of  souls.  The  pure  souls 
which  have  not  been  tempted  by  the  false  seductions  of  the 
sensible  life,  are  the  messengers  of  God,  the  demi-gods,  the 
Greek  heroes,  the  angels  of  Moses.  Taken  by  itself  and  as 
•distinct  from  the  sensible  elements  which  result  from  its 
union  with  the  body,  the  soul  is  a  divine  force.  Man  is 
united  to  God  by  his  spiritual  nature,  is  His  image,  and 
even  a  part  of  Him  (aTro'crTracr/xa).  The  vegetable  and  sensi- 
tive soul  is  made  up  of  the  aeriform  elements  of  the  seed ; 
reason  comes  from  without,  is  the  breath  of  God  in  man.  As 


MIND  191 

a  mere  vital  force  the  soul  has  its  seat  in  the  blood;  bub  the 
TTvev/ua,  in  which  alone  the  essence  of  man  consists,  is  the  Divine 
breath  :  TOV  XoyiKov  TO  Oeiov  Trveu/ma  ovcrla — you?  O.TT  ovpavov 
KaTcnrveva-Oels  avwQev.  Philo,  however,  is  not  always  con- 
sistent, for  he  makes  air  the  universal  principle  of  life  and  of 
the  soul ;  and  he  even  says  of  the  rational  soul  that  it 
emanates  from  that  Ether  of  which  heaven  and  the  stars  are 
formed. 

In  the  New  Testament  the  Tri/eu/xa  assumes  an  entirely 
spiritual  signification.  Traces  of  the  analogy  between  the 
material  air  and  the  Trvev/uia  are  only  to  be  found  in  such 
similes  as  "  I  saw  the  spirit  descending  from  heaven  like  a 
dove"  (John  I,  32);  "The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth " 
(John  III,  8).  But  the  Revealer,  the  Witness,  the  living 
Eternal  Principle  of  knowledge  and  belief  for  the  faithful  is  the 
immaterial,  Divine  Spirit  (see  John  XIV,  16,  26).  This  mystical 
meaning  of  the  term  Trvev/ma.  is  most  striking  in  the  writings 
of  Paul.  With  him  there  is  no  question  of  its  being  any 
longer  a  physiological,  organic  force ;  it  is  an  entirely  spiritual 
force.  The  Spirit  gives  us  faith,  the  knowledge  of  divine 
things ;  by  it  we  enter  into  communion  with  God.  "  But  he 
that  is  joined  unto  the  Lord  is  one  spirit,  ev  Trveu/na"  (1  Cor. 
VI,  17).  The  TTvev/ma  is  no  longer  a  vital  force  that  organizes 
the  living  body,  but  the  principle  of  an  entirely  new  life, 
which  is  a  dying  to  the  life  of  sin  and  to  the  works  of  the 
flesh. 

Neo-Platonism :  The  notion  of  the  Spiritual  re-appears  in 
the  Theories  of  the  World-soul  and  of  the  Soul  of  Man. 

In  the  Neo-Platonic  system  Metaphysics  were  once  more 
based  on  the  notion  of  the  spiritual. 

"  That  which  is  incorporeal,  according  toAmmonius  Saccas,  the  teacher 
of  Plotinus,  is  of  such  a  nature  that  it  unites  itself  to  everything  that  is 
capable  of  receiving  it,  as  closely  as  those  things  which  mutually  alter  and 
destroy  each  other  by  being  united,  and  at  the  same  time  it  remains  in 
this  union,  entirely  as  it  was  before,  as  things  remain  which  are  only  in 
juxtaposition"  (Eavaisson,  Essai sur  la  M&aph.  cPArist.  II,  374-5). 

This  possibility  of  self-bestowal  without  loss,  of  being 
divided  without  ceasing  to  be  one,  is  in  fact  the  principle  of 


192  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  theory  of  Emanation.  From  the  Absolute  Unity,  as  it  were 
by  radiation,  the  Now,  which  is  both  intelligence  and  the  intelli- 
gible, proceeds,  and  from  the  Now  proceeds  the  universal  soul. 
The  soul  of  the  world  is  the  God  of  the  Stoics,  the  principle  of 
unity  in  the  cosmos  which  it  pervades  and  contains.  Between 
the  world  of  intelligible  entities  and  the  world  as  it  appears 
to  us,  it  evolves  a  multitude  of  distinct  powers  out  of  the 
forms  which  the  intelligence  comprises  in  its  own  unity.  In 
this  evolution  the  world- soul,  proceeding  from  one  thing  to 
another,  creates  time  and  extension,  which  are  the  conditions 
necessary  to  the  fulfilment  of  its  task.  Thus  it  is  from  the 
soul  that  all  that  is  real  in  matter  proceeds. 

This  universal  soul  embraces  a  multitude  of  individual 
souls ;  these,  being  desirous  of  making  for  themselves .  an 
independent  existence  in  some  separate  body,  enamoured  of 
their  own  image,  separate  themselves  from  the  soul,  which  is 
their  common  principle,  and  fall  into  the  body.  Not  that  the 
individual  souls  are  merely  parts  into  which  the  universal 
soul  is  divided :  the  universal  soul  is  whole  and  entire  in  each 
one  of  the  particular  souls,  is  everywhere  present  with- 
out division :  /u.evov(Ttjs  /u.ev  0X179,  Trotoucn;?  <^e  Trap'  aur>79 
ovSev  rjTTov  7roXXa9  (Enn.  IV,  ix,  4).  It  gives  and  yet 
preserves  itself,  is  multiplied  and  yet  remains  one.  This 
soul,  ever  similar  to  itself,  which  penetrates  and  brings 
harmony  into  all  the  parts  of  the  world,  as  into  the  organs 
of  our  body,  cannot  be  a  material  thing.  In  the  first  place, 
what  is  extended  and  divisible  is  unable  to  impart  unity  to 
anything,  it  must  itself  receive  unity  from  some  spiritual 
principle,  so  that  a  material  soul  would  require  another  soul, 
and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  In  the  second  place,  if  the  soul  is 
composed  of  parts,  how  are  we  to  explain  the  sympathy  and 
harmony  between  its  actions,  how  are  we  to  account  for  the 
unity  of  perception,  of  comparison,  and  of  memory  1 

Not  only  is  the  human  soul  closely  united  to  the  universal 
soul,  but  it  is  not  separated  from  the  Now  in  which  it  is 
represented,  nor  from  the  One  from  which  it  emanates  like 
everything  else.  Its  task  is  to  rise  gradually  once  more 
into  the  world  of  intelligibles,  to  return  through  ecstasy 
to  its  true  home,  which  is  the  Absolute  Unity,  the  Supreme 
Good. 


MIND  193 

Different  Views  concerning  the  Nature  of  the  Soul  held  by 
the  Earlier  Christian  Philosophers. 

The  immortality  of  the  soul  would  seem  to  follow  as  a 
consequence  from  its  spirituality :  if  the  soul  is  indivisible  it 
is  indissoluble.  The  spirituality  of  the  soul  as  a  condition 
of  its  survival  must,  one  might  think,  necessarily  be  a 
dogma  of  Christianity ;  nevertheless,  among  early  Christian 
philosophers  there  was  some  hesitation  on  this  point.  The 
apologist  Tertullian  (born  A.D.  160)  was  a  materialist  after 
the  manner  of  the  Stoics ;  he  denied  the  existence  of  any- 
thing immaterial,  asserting  that  the  soul  and  even  God 
were  corporeal ;  Omne  quod  est,  corpus  est  sui  generis :  nihil 
est  incorporate  nisi  quod  non  est  (De  An.  7).  He  adopted 
the  theory  of  the  Trvev/ma ;  the  soul  is  subtle,  luminous, 
ethereal,  a  breath  animating  the  body,  penetrating  all  its 
elements :  it  is  extended,  and  those  who  are  in  a  state  of 
ecstasy  can  see  it  with  their  eyes  as  it  sees  itself. 

In  opposition  to  Tertullian,  Gregory  of  Nyssa  (331-394)  rejects 
all  the  definitions  of  the  soul  except  that  of  Plato.  Aristotle's 
definition  he  disputes,  saying  that  a  body  that  potentially 
possesses  life  before  it  is  alive  is  inconceivable.  The  soul  is 
an  ova-la  airroreXjfr,  a  self-sufficient  substance,  which  is  always 
in  motion,  and  to  which  rest  would  be  annihilation.  It  fills  the 
body,  not  materially,  but  dynamically,  as  light  penetrates  the 
air.  It  is  not,  properly  speaking,  in  the  body,  the  body  is  in 
it  (De  Opif.  Horn.  11). 

In  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  Hilary,  Bishop  of 
Poitiers,  revived  the  doctrine  of  the  materiality  of  the  soul. 
He  maintained  that  every  created  thing,  even  the  human  soul, 
is  material,  that  God  alone  is  outside  the  categories  of  space 
and  time.  This  doctrine  was  refuted  by  Claudianus  Mamertus, 
Bishop  of  Vienne  in  Dauphine  (died  477) ;  he  proves,  that 
in  order  to  distinguish  the  soul  from  God,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  assume  its  materiality.  The  soul  does  not  come  under 
the  categories  of  space  and  quantity ;  and  in  this  it 
resembles  God ;  but  it  is  created  and  moves  in  time,  and  in 
this  its  resembles  the  body,  and  is  something  distinct  from  God 
Who  is  eternal  and  uncreated.  The  soul  is,  therefore,  spiritual ; 
as  Gregory  of  Nyssa  had  said,  it  is  not  contained  in  the 
body ;  it  is  the  soul  that  contains  the  body,  for  it  is  the  soul 

II.  N 


194  THE  PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

that  constitutes  and  preserves  the  unity  of  the  body  (De  Statu 
Animae). 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  the  soul  was  established  once 
for  all  by  St.  Augustine,  who  also  advanced  arguments 
which  were  to  be  repeated  by  most  of  his  successors.  The 
soul  is  spiritual,  because  it  is  the  subject  of  thought  (De 
Trin.  X,  10,  15).  It  is  impossible  to  regard  thought  as  an 
attribute  of  that  which  does  not  think.  The  soul  perceives 
directly  in  itself  only  spiritual  functions,  such  as  thought, 
knowledge,  volition,  recollection  (De  Trin.  X,  13).  If  it 
were  corporeal  it  would  perceive  immediately  in  itself 
something  corporeal  (De  Quant.  An.  17,  30).  The  soul  is 
finally  characterized  and  distinguished  by  the  faculty  of 
reflection.  A  body  has  only  one  figure,  one  form ;  it  cannot 
become  the  figure  and  the  form  of  another  body ;  the  mind 
can  know  and  love  both  itself  and  all  other  things  (De  Trin. 
IX,  4).  In  a  word,  the  soul  is  conscious  of  itself  as  an 
unextended  substance  whose  activities  bear  no  relation  to  the 
properties  of  matter. 

The  Middle  Ages  and  the  Renaissance. 

The  Middle  Ages  produced  no  new  method  and  no  new 
solutions,  but  the  doctrines  of  Plato  and  of  Aristotle  prevailed 
alternately ;  and  it  did  not  occur  to  the  philosophers  of  this  period 
to  make  a  study  of  reality  and  observe  facts.  Some  among  them 
returned  to  the  hypothesis  of  a  world-soul,  which  would  appear 
to  have  been  somewhat  superfluous  in  any  system  that  held 
the  creation  of  the  universe  by  a  God  Who  was  also  its  Pro- 
vidence. Bene  Plato  Spiritum  Sanctum  animam  mundi  quasi 
vitam  universitatis  posuit,  says  Abelard  (Theol.  Chr.  I,  1013). 
Bernard  of  Chartres  and  William  of  Conches  (during  the  first 
half  of  the  twelfth  century),  who  were  both  fervent  Platonists, 
also  adopted  the  theory  of  a  world-soul.  Bernard  of  Chartres 
indeed  finally  arrived  at  a  kind  of  Pantheism  :  mundus  quidem 
est  animal,  verum  sine  anima  substantiam  non  invenias  animalis 
(Megacosmos).  Above  all  things,  he  said,  there  is  God,  the 
Ineffable  One ;  the  Nou?  is  the  mind  of  God,  wherein  dwell 
the  eternal  ideas,  the  archetypes  of  all  that  exists.  From 
the  Now?  flows  the  world-soul,  as  it  were,  by  emanation  (velut 
vmanatione  de/tuxit),  which  gives  to  the  world  its  form  and  its 


MIND  195 

unity  (naturam  informavit).  The  Nou?  is  the  Word  ;  the  soul 
of  the  world  is  the  Holy  Ghost  (Oeuvres  ine"d.  d'Abelard,  De 
Mundi  Universit.  See  V.  Cousin,  Vol.  I,  p.  628  et  seq.). 

When  the  works  of  Aristotle  had  become  known  in  the 
West  through  the  medium  of  the  Arabs  and  the  Jews,  Scholastic 
philosophy  became  Peripatetic — about  the  beginning  of  Xlllth 
century.  The  writings  of  William  of  Auvergne  (died  1249) 
mark  this  transition.  In  his  treatise,  called  De  Anima,  which, 
considering  its  period  was  a  remarkable  work,  and  which  was 
written  under  the  inspiration  of  St.  Augustine,  he  foreshadows 
the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes.  It  is  contradictory  to  deny 
the  existence  of  the  soul,  he  says,  for  he  who  denies  the  soul 
knows  that  even  while  he  denies,  he  thinks,  and  that  if  there 
is  thought  there  must  be  a  thinking  being.  Moreover,  we  have 
an  immediate  perception  of  our  soul  per  dispositions  intel- 
ligibiles,  queue  sunt  scientiae,  dubitationes  et  omnino  cogitationes. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  know  the  souls  of  others  only  through 
their  bodies,  that  is,  through  signs  or  symbols.  How,  is  it 
then,  that  some  men  deny  the  existence  of  the  soul  ?  It  is 
because  they  are  accustomed  to  think  under  the  condition  of 
space,  of  figure,  sequi  signa  sensibilia  ad  excogitandas  vd  potius 
ad  imaginandas  res.  But  let  us  imagine  a  man  suspended  in 
the  air,  and  so  muffled  up  that  he  can  use  none  of  his  senses, 
this  man  will  think,  therefore  he  thinks  himself  (cogitat  et 
intelligit  ergo  se  cogitat  et  intelligit).  He  negates  his  body,  he 
affirms  that  which  he  has  and  which  he  feels  (sentit)  himself 
to  have,  and  this  implies  the  existence  of  a  soul  which  is 
distinct  from  the  body. 

Albertus  Magnus  and  Thomas  Aquinas  adopted  the  doctrines 
of  Aristotle,  and  made  them  harmonize  with  Christian  dogma. 
According  to  St.  Thomas,  the  embryo,  from  the  beginning  of 
its  life,  possesses  an  individual  soul  which  is,  however,  only  a 
vegetable  soul  (Summa  Th.  I,  qu.  118,  a.  2).  This  soul 
disappears  to  make  room  for  another,  which  is  at  once 
vegetable  and  sensitive  ;  finally,  the  latter,  in  its  '  turn,  yields 
its  place  to  an  intellectual  soul  which  comprises  within  itself 
the  two  other  faculties :  and  it  is  not  till  then  that  the  animal 
becomes  man.  The  human  soul  is  thus  a  form  without  matter 
forma  separata),  and  the  entelechy  of  the  body.  The  organ- 
izing principle  of  the  body,  of  the  motor  and  sensitive  soul,  and 


196  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

finally  of  the  rational  soul,  is  one  and  the  same  substance.  The 
vegetable  and  sensitive  souls  are  present  in  the  embryo  before 
the  appearance  of  the  rational  soul.  The  latter  is  created 
immediately  (Sum.  Cont.  Gent.  II,  86,  1),  comes  from  without, 
and  is  so  closely  fused  with  the  two  others  that  they  are 
entirely  absorbed  in  it.  This  complicated  doctrine  was  adopted 
by  the  Council  of  Vienne,  A.D.  1311 

The  Renaissance  prepared  the  way  for  modern  philosophy. 
Platonists,  such  as  Ficino,  and  Aristotelians  such  as  Ctesalpinus, 
all  agreed  in  regarding  extension  as  the  essential  attribute  of 
matter,  and  thought  as  the  essential  attribute  of  mind.  Matter 
was  now  no  longer,  as  with  Aristotle,  an  indeterminate  potenti- 
ality ;  it  had  a  positive  attribute,  namely,  extension.  Thus  the 
historical  continuity  was  not  broken,  for  this  theory  of  the 
philosophers  of  the  Renaissance  brings  us  by  a  natural  transi- 
tion to  the  doctrines  of  Descartes  (see  Ritter,  Hist,  of  Philos. 
Part  IX ;  Chr.  Philos.  Vol.  II ;  Geschichte  der  Psychologic,  by  K 
Harms,  p.  225). 

We  must  mention,  however,  the  influence  exercised  by 
Averroes  in  the  school  of  Padua,  and  the  disputes  between 
the  Averroists  and  the  followers  of  Alexander  of  Aphro- 
disias.  The  Averroists  held  that  the  active  intellect  was 
impersonal,  the  same  in  all  men ;  but  that,  for  this  very 
reason,  it  was  immortal,  and  after  the  death  of  the  individual 
returned  to  God.  Pomponatius,  in  his  De  Immortalitate 
Animae,  attacks  the  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  souls,  and  after  a 
lengthy  examination  of  the  arguments  of  philosophers  concludes 
that  the  soul  is  mortal.  Owing,  however,  to  the  distinction 
which  was  then  current  between  matters  of  faith  and  matters 
of  philosophy,  a  distinction  which  we  find  existing  even  in 
Pascal's  time,  Pomponatius  was  able,  in  spite  of  this  doctrine, 
to  continue  on  good  terms  with  the  Church  (E.  Renan, 
Averroes,  3rd  ed.  p.  322  et  seq.). 

Descartes:  the  Soul  defined  l>y  Thought;  its  Separate  Existence. 

Descartes  discovered  in  the  very  fact  of  doubt  a  funda- 
mental truth  :  I  who  doubt,  think ;  I  think,  therefore  I  am ; 
I  may  imagine  that  I  have  no  body,  but  as  long  as  I  think 
I  still  continue  to  exist.  The  idea  of  thought  is  therefore 
distinct  from  the  idea  of  extension,  and  my  own  thought 


MIND  197 

is  the  only  thing  which  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  doubt. 
I  am  res  cogitans,  that  is  to  say,  res  dubitans,  intelligent, 
affirmans,  negans,  volens,  nolens,  imaginans  quoque  et  sentiens 
(2nd  Meditation).  The  2nd  Meditation,  however,  only  estab- 
lishes an  ideal  distinction  between  mind  and  body ;  a  distinction 
which  exists  only  for  the  thought  which  knows  them  by  different 
means.  But  is  this  distinction  in  dbstracto  a  real,  concrete  dis- 
tinction ?  This  objection  was  made  against  Descartes  after  the 
publication  of  his  Discours  de  la  Mtthode.  It  was  argued  that, 
from  the  fact  that  the  soul  knows  itself  as  a  thinking  thing,  it 
does  not  follow  that  the  soul  is  nothing  but  a  thought.  Could 
not  extension  be  a  property  of  soul,  of  which  we  are  not  aware  ? 
Descartes  replies  that,  in  the  2nd  Meditation,  as  in  the 
Discours  de  la  Mtthode,  he  has  postponed  the  question  of  the 
real  distinction.  It  is-  not  till  the  6th  Meditation  that  he 
attacks  this  problem.  To  ideas  that  are  clear  and  distinctly 
conceived,  distinct  realities  correspond,  because  God  cannot 
deceive  us,  and  His  omnipotence  can  realize  everything  that 
we  conceive.  Descartes  had  need  of  the  divine  veracity  and 
omnipotence  in  order  to  establish  that  every  clear  and  distinct 
idea  must  correspond  to  a  distinct  reality ;  and  this  is  why  he 
waits  until  the  6th  Meditation  to  prove  the  real  distinction 
between  the  soul  and  the  body.  The  2nd  Meditation  proves 
by  the  Cogito  ergo  sum,  that  thought  is  an  ultimate  notion ; 
the  4:th  Meditation  establishes  the  divine  veracity  and  power; 
the  6th  Meditation  concludes  : 

"  Since,  on  the  one  hand,  I  have  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  myself,  in 
so  far  as  I  am  only  a  thinking  and  unextended  thing,  and  as,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  possess  a  distinct  idea  of  bod}7,  in  so  far  as  it  is  only  an  extended 
and  unthinking  thing,  it  is  certain  that  I,  that  is  my  mind,  by  which  I 
am  what  I  am,  is  entirely  and  truly  distinct  from  my  body  and  may  exist 
without  it "  (6th  Meditation). 

Spinoza :  The  Soul  of  the  World  is  the  Idea  of  Extension ; 
The  Human  Soul  is  the  Idea  of  the  Human  Body. 

One  of  Descartes'  disciples,  Eegius  (Leroy)  had  said  to  him : 
Thought  and  extension  are  ultimate  attributes,  no  doubt,  but 
why  should  not  one  and  the  same  substance  underlie  two 
different  attributes  ?  And  this  question  contains  the  principle 
of  Spinoza's  philosophy.  "  God,  or  substance,  consisting  of 


198  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

infinite  attributes,  each  one  of  which  expresses  eternal  and 
infinite  essence,  necessarily  exists  "  (The  Ethic,  Part  I,  Prop.  XI). 
The  great  difficulty  was  to  pass  from  this  sole  substance  to 
the  finite  beings  revealed  to  us  by  our  ordinary  experience. 
Spinoza  seems  to  have  sought  for  this  transition  from  unity 
to  plurality,  in  what  he  calls  the  infinite  and  eternal  modes. 
That  which  results  from  the  essence  of  a  divine  attribute,  can 
only  be  an  eternal  and  infinite  mode.  The  idea  of  God,  for 
instance,  is  an  eternal  and  infinite  mode,  by  which  the 
attribute  of  the  divine  Thought  reveals  itself :  the  idea  of  God 
is  the  representation  in  thought  of  all  the  divine  attributes. 
Thought,  being  by  nature  representative,  expresses  all  the 
forms  of  Being.  Therefore  the  idea  of  God  embraces  the  idea 
of  extension  and  also  that  of  thought,  and  these  ideas  are 
eternal  and  infinite  modes  of  the  second  degree. 

Let  us  consider  things  in  the  same  way,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  extension.  Motion  and  rest  are  eternal  and  infinite 
modes  of  the  first  degree ;  the  fades  totius  universi  is  an 
eternal  and  infinite  mode  of  the  second  degree ;  in  other  words, 
it  is  deduced  from  a  mode  of  the  first  degree  (Letter  to 
L.  Meyer).  This  aspect,  this  'fades'  of  the  universe,  though 
varied  by  the  infinity  of  its  successive  modes,  remains  the 
same,  because  the  proportion  of  rest  to  motion  does  not 
change. 

"  If  the  parts  composing  an  individual  become  greater  or  less,  but  in 
such  proportion  that  they  all  preserve  the  same  mutual  relations  of  motion 
and  rest,  the  individual  will  still  preserve  its  original  nature,  and  its 
actuality  will  not  be  changed"  (The  Ethics,  Part  II,  lemma  V). 

Corporeal  individuality  is  defined  as  a  system  of  related 
parts.  There  is  nothing  to  prevent  several  individuals  from 
fitting  into  one  another  and  thereby  forming  a  more  complex 
individuality.  From  this  point  of  view,  the  whole  world  is 
one  immense  individual :  its  body  is  all  the  modes  corre- 
sponding to  the  attribute  of  extension,  deduced,  however,  from 
those  eternal  and  infinite  modes  which  constitute  their  unity; 
its  soul  is  the  idea  of  extension.  The  idea  of  extension 
embraces  the  ideas  of  all  the  separate  modes  of  extension. 
Now,  a  soul  for  Spinoza  is  nothing  else  than  the  idea  of  a  mode 
of  extension.  The  idea  of  extension  therefore  embraces  all  souls  : 
is,  in  fact,  the  universal  soul  (see  CEuvres  de  Spinoza,  trad. 


MIND  199 

Saisset,  IntrocL  p.  86  et  seq.).  But  in  Spinoza's  system  the 
difficulty  is  not  so  much  to  attain  unity  as  to  account  for  the 
many,  to  break  up  this  unity  into  the  multiple  appearances. 
We  can,  perhaps,  conceive  how  it  is  that  the  eternal  and  infinite 
modes  of  the  first  and  second  degree  allow  of  a  reconciliation 
between  the  unity  of  the  attributes,  and  consequently,  of 
substance  and  the  infinite  succession  of  the  given  modes ;  but 
what  is  not  at  all  clear  is  how  we  are  to  pass  from  those 
eternal  and  infinite  modes  to  the  finite  modes  which  vary  the 
fades  totius  universi. 

Spinoza  deduces  from  his  system  a  theory  of  the  human 
soul.  Extension  and  thought  are  not,  as  Descartes  supposed, 
distinct  substances,  but  ultimate  attributes  of  one  and  the 
same  substance.  The  human  soul  is  the  idea  of  the  human 
body,  as  the  soul  of  the  world  is,  the  idea  of  extension.  Thus 
reduced  to  the  idea  of  the  body  to  which  it  belongs,  the  soul 
does  not  exist,  but  is  in  a  state  of  perpetual  change  like  the 
body  itself.  Its  thoughts  and  actions  follow  each  other 
according  to  the  affections  of  the  body,  and  it  is  merely  a 
series  of  thoughts  and  volitions  determined  from  without.  The 
soul  is  thus  a  sum,  a  totality,  or  rather  a  sequence  that  has  no 
real  unity  or  identity.  The  individuality  of  the  human  soul  is 
only  a  reflection  of  the  individuality  of  the  human  body,  all  of 
whose  parts  are  maintained  in  an  unchanging  relation  by  a 
constant  law.  How  is  this  theory  of  the  soul  to  be  reconciled 
with  the  possibility  of  adequate  knowledge,  which  is  the  raison 
d'etre  of  Spinoza's  Ethics  ?  How  is  it  that  the  soul  which  is  defined 
as  the  "  idea  of  a  body"  can  go  beyond  the  individual,  leave  the 
particular  body,  and  possess  the  universe  in  contemplating 
things  under  the  form  of  eternity  ?  It  is  because  the  human 
soul,  although,  on  the  one  hand,  only  as  it  were  a  reflection  of 
the  body,  is,  on  the  other  hand,  connected  with  God ;  there  is 
in  God  an  "  idea  of  the  soul,"  which  is  united  to  the  soul,  as 
the  soul,  or  "  idea  of  the  body,"  is  united  to  the  body  (Eth 
II,  Prop.  XXI). 

Leibnitz  :    Theory  of  Monads  ;    the  Pre-established  Harmony 
takes  the  place  of  the  Soul  of  the  World. 

Descartes  would  not  admit  the  existence  of  any  soul 
except  the  human  soul ;  Spinoza  maintained  the  distinction 


200  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

between  thought  and  extension,  and  in  his  system  there  was, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  as  much  soul  as  extension.  Leibnitz 
reduces  extension  itself  to  soul ;  so  that  his  world  consists  of 
nothing  but  an  infinite  number  of  souls  which  possess  infinitely 
various  degrees  of  perfection.  Leibnitz  had,  at  first,  adopted 
the  Cartesian  mechanical  theory,  but,  while  seeking  the 
ultimate  principles  of  the  laws  of  motion,  he  was  much 
surprised  to  perceive  that  it  was  impossible  to  find  these  laws 
in  mathematics  alone,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  return  once 
more  to  metaphysics  (Erdm.  720).  Moreover,  matter  is  com- 
pound, divisible,  and  hence  pure  multiplicity.  But  multiplicity 
can  derive  reality  only  from  real  units.  "  And  there  must  be 
simple  substances,  since  there  are  compounds ;  for  a  compound 
is  nothing  but  a  collection  or  aggregatum,  of  simple  things" 
(Monad.  2,  Latta's  trans,  p.  217). 

From  extension  and  matter,  we  are,  therefore,  brought  back 
to  entirely  immaterial  units  ;  in  other  words,  to  the  formal  atoms, 
atoms  of  substance,  metaphysical  points  which  differ  from  the 
atoms  of  Epicurus  in  that  they  are  unextended ;  for  extension 
is  only  a  phenomenon,  and  not,  as  the  Cartesians  taught,  the 
essence  of  bodies. 

What  constitutes  the  reality  of  these  immaterial  atoms  is 
force. 

"  Active  force  differs  from  the  bare  potency  commonly  recognized  in 
the  Schools.  For  the  active  potency,  or  faculty  of  the  Scholastics,  is 
nothing  but  a  mere  possibility  of  acting,  which,  nevertheless,  requires 
an  outer  excitation  or  stimulus,  that  it  may  be  turned  into  activity. 
But  active  force  contains  in  itself  a  certain  activity  [actus],  and  is  a  mean 
between  the  faculty  of  acting  and  action  itself.  It  includes  effort,  and 
thus  passes  into  operation  by  itself,  requiring  no  aids,  but  only  the 
removal  of  hindrance.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  example  of  a 
heavy  hanging  body  stretching  the  rope  which  holds  it  up,  or  by  that 
of  a  drawn  bow"  (Erdmann's  En.  1226). 

But  can  we  not  get  beyond  this  merely  external  notion  of 
force  ? 

"  Force,  you  say,  we  only  know  through  its  effects,  and  not  as  it  is 
in  itself.  My  answer  is,  that  this  would  be  true,  if  we  did  not  possess 
a  soul,  and  if  we  did  not  know  our  soul." 

Our  inner  experience  reveals  to  us  an  active,  real  force, 
which  is  the  only  force  we  know,  namely,  our  soul  (Ibid. 


MIND  201 

1855).  We  must,  therefore,  conceive  the  metaphysical  atoms 
after  the  image  of  our  souls  (Ibid.  124  a).  Substances  can 
only  be  souls  in  the  most  general  sense  of  the  term.  Their 
unity  is  ultimately  found  to  consist  in  perception  and  thought, 
their  force  in  tendency  and  appetition. 

"Thus  the  world  is  not  a  machine  as  Descartes  and  Hobbes  would 
have  it.  Everything  in  it  is  force,  soul,  life,  thought,  desire  ;  what  we 
see  is  the  machine,  but  we  only  see  the  outside  of  Being.  Being  is  that 
which  itself  sees  "  (Boutroux.  6d.  de  la  Monad.). 

Perception  explains  both  the  unity  of  each  monad,  and  the 
infinite  diversity  of  the  monads.  Perception  involves  multi- 
plicity in  unity.  Perceptio  nihil  est  quam,  multorum  in  uno 
expressio  (Erdm.  438).  What  do  the  monads  perceive  ?  The 
entire  universe,  but  each  from  a  point  of  view  that  is 
peculiar  to  itself ;  and  it  is  its  point  of  view  that  constitutes 
the  individual  monad.  There  are  degrees  in  perception  :  below 
apperception,  or  conscious  and  distinct  perception,  there  is 
unconscious  perception,  and  the  two  terms  are  joined  by  a 
continuous  series  of  stages.  The  degree  of  distinction  in 
perceptions  constitutes  the  degree  of  perfection  in  the  monads, 
not  one  of  which  is  identical  with  another  (this  is  the  principle 
of  indiscernibles).  Since  the  monad  is  a  created  thing  and 
subject  to  change,  and  since  its  nature  is  perception,  any 
change  in  it  can  only  be  the  transition  from  one  perception 
to  another.  Appetition  is  the  effort  made  by  the  monad 
to  pass  from  one  internal  state  to  another.  The  law  which 
governs  this  effort  is  the  law  of  final  causes,  to  which  con- 
sequently the  law  of  efficient  causes  is  subordinate,  since 
material  mechanism  is  ultimately  found  to  be  the  expression 
and  symbol  of  this  effort  of  the  monads.  As  our  will  is 
always  directed  towards  the  good,  so  the  appetition  of  the 
monad  is  an  effort  towards  a  more  perfect  internal  state 
than  the  preceding  one ;  in  other  words,  it  is  a  tendency 
towards  more  distinct  perceptions  (Erdm.  706). 

If  there  are  nothing  but  souls,  how  are  beings  distinguished 
from  one  another  ?  As  we  have  said,  by  the  differences  of 
these  perceptions.  There  is  an  infinite  number  of  degrees  in 
perceptions,  and  hence  an  infinite  number  of  degrees  in  living 
things  (Ibid.  676).  Leibnitz,  however,  distinguishes  three 
kinds  :  beings  having  merely  life,  animals,  and  men. 


202  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

The  merely  living  thing  is  the  monad  joined  to  an  appropriate  body. 
Its  perception  is  unconscious  and  both  perish  together.  Omne  corpus 
mens  est  momentanea.  The  second  degree  is  that  of  the  monad  endowed 
with  a  more  distinct  perception,  i.e.  with  feeling  ;  such  a  monad  may  be 
called  a  soul ;  when  united  to  its  proper  body  it  is  an  animal.  The  third 
degree  is  that  of  the  soul  endowed  with  reason  and  reflection,  or  minds 
(spirits).  The  spirits  are  characterized  by  knowledge  properly  so-called, 
by  self-knowledge,  by  the  possession  of  universal  truths,  and  consequently, 
the  possibility  of  demonstrative  knowledge. 

The  monads,  being  simple,  cannot  act  upon  one  another. 
How  then  can  these  beings  which  are  not  directly  related,  but 
independent  of  one  another,  form  a  whole,  or  cosmos  ?  And 
how,  amidst  this  universal  harmony,  are  the  partial  harmonies 
to  be  explained?  "Some  moderns  have  not  seen  any  objection 
to  this  theory  of  a  single  and  universal  soul  which  absorbs  all  the 
others.  The  doctrine  of  pre-established  harmony  is  the  most 
effective  way  to  remedy  this  evil"  (Thtod.,  Disc,  de  la  Conform, 
de  la  liaison  et  de  la  Foi,  §  10). 

All  the  monads  are  in  reciprocal  agreement.  All  the  acts 
of  any  monad  whatever  are,  in  their  infinite  series,  in  relation 
to  all  the  acts  of  all  the  other  monads.  He  who  could  open 
out,  as  it  were,  the  folds  of  a  monad,  would  read  therein  the- 
history  of  the  world  :  Dum  Deus  calculat  Jit  mundus.  In  this 
way  the  unity  of  the  world  is  explained :  each  monad  acts 
spontaneously,  on  its  own  account,  but  out  of  all  these  inde- 
pendent acts  arises  the  universal  harmony  which  was  the 
reason  of  its  being.  The  law  governing  this  harmony  is  the 
Good,  the  subordination  of  that  which  is  less  good  to  what  is 
better.  In  this  way  the  partial  harmonies  as  well  as  the  total 
harmony  become  conceivable ;  one  monad  is  more  perfect  than 
another  in  so  far  as  in  it  is  found  that  which  serves  to  account 
a  priori  for  all  that  takes  place  in  the  other.  All  the  monads 
of  the  human  body,  for  example,  are  independent,  but  in  the 
series  of  their  acts  they  harmonize  with  the  monad  soul,  and 
this  explains  both  the  visible  harmony  of  the  human  body  and 
its  relations  with  thought. 

The  Empiricists :  Materialism  of  Hobbes;  Locke's  indecision ; 
Phenomenalism  of  Hume  and  Stuart  Mill. 

A  development  parallel  with  that  of  the  Idealism  which 
began  with  Descartes,  took  place  in  the  Empirical  School 


MIND  203 

founded  by  Bacoii.  Hobbes  was  a  bold  and  consistent 
Materialist.  Like  the  Stoics,  he  identifies  substance  with 
body :  the  spiritual  is  the  non-existent,  a  mere  abstraction ; 
and  all  phenomena  are  reducible  to  movements,  to  changes  of 
position  in  space.  There  can  be  no  causality  except  a  mechani- 
cal causality,  and  sensation  is  merely  the  motion  of  corporeal 
parts  produced  by  the  external  motion  of  things.  The  mind  is  a 
body,  all  the  phenomena  of  which  can  be  reduced  to  motions. 

"  Spirits  are  thin,  aerial,  invisible  bodies.  Spirit  and  incorporeal  are 
words  of  contradictory  signification.  If  men  give  to  God  such  a  title  (i.e. 
the  title  of  '  Spirit  incorporeal')  it  is  piously  to  honour  Him  with  attri- 
butes of  significations  as  remote  as  they  can  from  the  grossness  of  bodies 
visible  "  (Leviathan,  I,  Ch.  II). 

Locke  holds  with  Descartes  that  an  inner  feeling  gives  me 
the  consciousness  of  myself. 

"Self  is  that  conscious  thinking  thing,  whatever  substance  made  up  of 
(whether  spiritual  or  material,  simple  or  compounded,  it  matters  not), 
which  is  sensible  or  conscious  of  pleasure  and  pain,  capable  of  happiness 
or  misery,  and  so  is  concerned  for  itself,  as  far  as  that  consciousness 
extends"  (On  the  Human  Understanding,  II,  xxvii,  §  17). 

My  Ego  is  characterized  by  consciousness  and  identity  ;  it 
extends,  in  a  way,  as  far  as  my  memory.  But  what  is  the  sub- 
stance of  the  soul  ?  On  this  point  Locke  is  very  cautious. 

No  one  has  any  idea  of  substance,  but  only  the  supposition  of  "  he 
knows  not  what  support  of  such  qualities  which  are  capable  of  producing 
simple  ideas  in  us  (Ch.  23,  §  2)  ...  having  no  other  idea  or  notion  of 
matter,  but  something  wherein  those  many  sensible  qualities  which  affect 
our  senses  do  subsist  ;  by  supposing  a  substance  wherein  thinking,  know- 
ing, doubting,  and  a  power  of  moving,  etc.,  do  subsist,  we  have  as  clear  a 
notion  of  the  substance  of  spirit  as  we  have  of  body  ;  the  one  being 
supposed  to  be  (without  knowing  what  it  is)  the  substratum  of  those 
simple  ideas  we  have  from  without,  and  the  other  supposed  (with  a  like 
ignorance  of  what  it  is)  to  be  the  substratum  of  the  operations  we 
experience  it  in  ourselves  within  .  .  .  and  therefore,  from  our  not  having 
any  notion  of  the  substance  of  spirit  we  can  no  more  conclude  its  non- 
existence  than  we  can  for  the  same  reason  deny  the  existence  of  body  " 
(Ibid.  §  5). 

In  each  .case  we  assume  an  x,  an  unknown  quantity  ;  and 
hence,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  we  have  no  reason  to  deny 
the  existence  of  spiritual  substances,  it  is  not  impossible  on  the 


204  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

other  hand  that  God  has  endowed  matter  with  the  faculty  of 
thought. 

"  We  have  the  ideas  of  matter  and  thinking,  but  possibly  shall  never  be 
able  to  know  whether  any  mere  material  being  thinks  or  no  ;  it  being 
impossible  for  us,  by  the  contemplation  of  our  own  ideas,  without  revela- 
tion, to  discover  whether  Omnipotency  has  not  given  to  some  systems  of 
matter,  fitly  disposed,  a  power  to  perceive  and  think,  or  else  joined  and 
fixed  to  matter  so  disposed  a  thinking,  immaterial  substance  "  {Ibid.  IV, 
iii,  §  6). 

Locke's  Empiricism  was  carried  to  its  ultimate  logical  con- 
sequences by  Hume.  There  must  be  always  some  impression 
to  give  rise  to  a  real  idea,  but  there  is  no  impression  corre- 
sponding to  the  idea  of  substance ;  we  have  therefore  no 
knowledge  of  any  substance,  of  bodies  no  more  than  of  souls. 
The  Ego  is  neither  simple  nor  identical,  but  merely  an  ever- 
changing  series,  a  complex  collection  of  representations. 

"  If  anyone,  upon  serious  and  unprejudiced  reflection,  thinks  he  has  a 
different  notion  of  himself,  I  must  confess  I  can  reason  no  longer  with 
him"  (Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  I,  iv,  6). 

And  yet  we  commonly  believe  in  the  identity  and  simplicity 
of  the  self.  Whence  arises  this  illusion  ?  Since  each  one  of  our 
perceptions  is  distinct  and  separate  from  the  others,  how  is  it 
that  they  are  joined  together  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  us  the 
idea  of  a  self -identical  Egol  This  subjective  appearance  is 
explained  by  the  laws  of  association.  Images  of  our  past 
sensations  are  unceasingly  being  presented  to  us  by  memory. 
These  images  form  a  chain ;  and  through  habit  our  imagination 
goes  so  rapidly  from  one  link  of  this  chain  to  another,  that  the 
series  of  distinct  elements,  joined  as  it  were  end  to  end,  finally 
appears  to  us  as  a  solid,  continuous  whole.  Thus  memory  not 
only  reveals  to  us  our  identity,  but  takes  part  in  its  production. 
The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  completes  the  work  of  determining 
the  notion  of  the  Ego  by  binding  together  its  elements.  Impres- 
sions give  rise  to  ideas  corresponding  to  them,  and  ideas  in  their 
turn  produce  other  impressions.  Our  mental  states  are  thus 
linked  together  according  to  the  laws  of  a  determinism  by 
which  thought  is  led  from  one  state  to  another.  My  present 
pleasure  or  pain  leads  me  to  reflect  on  an  action  already  done; 
and,  similarly,  in  forming  a  resolution  in  the  present,  I  foresee 


MIND  205 

the  future  pleasure  which  I  expect  to  derive  from  it.  Thus, 
the  law  of  causality  gives  to  the  Ego  at  once  an  extension  and 
a  unity  which  it  could  not  derive  from  memory  alone. 

"  But  having  once  acquired  this  notion  of  causation  from  the  memory, 
we  can  extend  the  same  chain  of  causes,  and,  consequently,  the  identity  of 
our  persons,  beyond  our  memory  ;  and  can  comprehend  times,  and  circum- 
stances, and  actions,  which  we  have  entirely  forgot,  but  suppose  in  general 
to  have  existed.  How  few  of  our  past  actions  are  there  of  which  we  have 
any  memory  ?  Who  can  tell  me,  for  instance,  what  were  his  thoughts  and 
actions  on  the  1st  of  January,  1715,  the  llth  of  March,  1719,  and  the  3rd 
of  August,  1733?  Or  will  he  affirm,  because  he  has  entirely  forgot  the 
incidents  of  those  days,  that  the  present  self  is  not  the  same  person  with 
the  self  of  that  time  ;  and  by  that  means  overturn  all  the  most  established 
notions  of  personal  identity  ?  In  this  view,  therefore,  memory  does  not 
so  much  produce  as  discover  personal  identity  by  showing  us  the  relation 
of  cause  and  effect  among  our  different  perceptions  "  (Ibid.}. 

Our  belief  in  the  real  simplicity  of  the  self  is  explained  in 
the  same  way  as  our  belief  in  its  real  identity.  An  object,  the 
different  co-existing  parts  of  which  are  closely  joined  together, 
appears  to  the  imagination  as  a  perfectly  simple  and  indivisible 
object.  In  a  word,  mind  is  a  collection  of  internal  phenomena, 
which,  given,  the  laws  of  imagination,  necessarily  appears  as  a 
simple  and  identical  substance. 

Stuart  Mill  adopts  Hume's  theory  : 

"  Our  notion  of  mind,  as  well  as  of  matter,  is  the  notion  of  a  permanent 
something,  contrasted  with  the  perpetual  flux  of  the  sensations  and  other 
feelings,  or  mental  states,  which  we  refer  to  it ;  a  something  which  we 
figure  as  remaining  the  same,  while  the  particular  feelings  through  which 
it  reveals  its  existence  change.  .  .  .  The  belief  I  entertain  that  my  mind 
exists  when  it  is  not  feeling,  nor  thinking,  nor  conscious  of  its  own  exis- 
tence, resolves  itself  into  the  belief  of  the  Permanent  Possibilit}7  of  the 
state.  .  .  .  Thus  far,  there  seems  no  hindrance  to  our  regarding  mind  as 
nothing  but  the  series  of  our  sensations  (to  which  must  now  be  added  our 
internal  feelings)  as  they  actually  occur,  with  the  addition  of  infinite  possi- 
bilities of  feeling,  requiring  for  their  actual  realization  conditions  which 
may  or  may  not  take  place,  but  which,  as  possibilities,  are  always  in  exis- 
tence, and  in  many  of  them  present"  (Mill,  Exam,  of  Hamilton,  Ch.  XII, 
pp.  205,  206). 

But  Stuart  Mill  perceives  in  his  own  theory  a  difficulty 
which  he  admits  to  be  insurmountable. 

"  If  therefore  we  speak  of  the  mind  as  a  series  of  feelings,  we  are  obliged 
to  complete  the  statement,  by  calling  it  a  series  of  feelings  which  is  aware 


206 

of  itself  as  past  and  future ;  and  we  are  reduced  to  the  alternative  of 
believing  that  the  Mind,  or  Ego,  is  something  different  from  any  series 
of  feelings,  or  of  possibilities  of  them,  or  of  accepting  the  paradox,  that 
something  which,  ex  hypothesi,  is  but  a  series  of  feelings,  can  be  aware  of 
itself  as  a  series"  (Ibid.  pp.  212,  213). 

French  Materialism  in  the  18th  Century,  and  German 
Materialism  in  the  19th  Century. 

The  doctrine  of  Materialism  is  not,  as  some  suppose,  an 
empirical  doctrine.  Locke,  Hume,  and  all  the  Empiricists 
recognize  the  impossibility  of  reaching  substance.  Science 
does  not  require  any  metaphysical  system,  since  it  only  deals 
with  phenomena ;  and  it  is  a  mere  illusion  on  the  part  of  the 
materialists,  when  they  believe  themselves  to  speak  in  the 
name  of  science.  De  la  Mettrie  (ffistoire  Naturelle  de  I'Ame, 
I' Homme-machine)  dwells  on  the  relations  between  the  soul  and 
the  organism,  and  on  their  parallel  development,  and  in  this 
way  he  tries  to  reduce  mind  to  body.  Helvetius  and  Saint- 
Lambert  shared  his  views.  D'Holbach  identifies  matter  with 
force :  everything  is  material  and  everything  is  active.  This 
doctrine  ends  in  a  sort  of  Dynamical  Materialism,  in  which  the 
Epicurean  Atomism  is  combined  with  the  Hylozoism  of  the 
earliest  Greek  philosophers.  The  soul  is  not  distinguishable 
from  the  brain ;  thought  consists  in  the  hidden,  imperceptible 
movements  of  the  finest  fibres  of  the  brain.  It  is  the  differ- 
ence in  brains  that  causes  the  difference  in  minds :  the  soul 
is  merely  the  resultant  of  the  organic  mechanism. 

The  remarkable  progress  which  has  been  made  in  our  time 
in  the  physiology  of  the  nervous  system,  has  not  unnaturally 
brought  about  a  revival  of  Materialism.  But,  though 
physiology  continues  to  determine  with  increasing  precision 
the  relations  between  physical  and  mental  facts,  between  the 
organism  and  thought,  the  materialistic  theory  of  the  soul  has 
not  changed,  and  depends  entirely  on  the  same  aphorisms : 
"  Spiritual  activities  are  merely  the  functions  of  the  brain, 
that  is,  of  a  material  substance "  (Karl  Vogt,  Kohlerglaube 
und  Wissen,  1854).  "Thought  is  to  the  brain  what  bile  is  to 
the  liver,  or  urine  to  the  kidneys"  (Moleschott,  Kreislauf  des 
Lcbens,  1852). 

Now  the  facts  which  have  been  collected  by  physiology 
and  pathology  are  most  interesting,  but  they  in  no  way  prove 


MIND  207 

the  theory  of  Materialism.  To  Karl  Vogt's  na'ive  assertion 
"  that  physiology  is  categorically  opposed  to  an  individual 
immortality,  and  in  general  to  all  the  hypotheses  referring 
to  the  existence  of  a  distinct  soul "  (Ibid.),  it  is  enough  to  reply 
in  the  modest  and  profound  words  of  Dubois  Eeymond;  "As 
regards  the  enigma :  what  is  force  ?  what  is  matter  ?  and  how 
are  they  capable  of  thought  ?  Naturalism  must  resign  itself 
once  for  all  to  the  decree :  Ignorabimus." 

Kant :  Paralogisms  of  Pure  Reason ;  Impossibility  of  Passing 
from  the  Unity  and  Identity  of  the  Ego  to  the  Unity  and  Identity 
of  a  Spiritual  Substance. 

The  hypothesis  of  a  world-soul  was  suggested  to  philosophers 
by  the  unity  of  the  universe,  as  the  hypothesis  of  a  human  soul 
is  suggested  by  the  unity  of  thought.  According  to  Kant, 
thought  and  the  world  are  interdependent  (see  Vol.  I,  Ch.  IV, 
Problem  of  Reason);  the  unity  of  thought  constitutes  the  unity  of 
the  world,  which  alone  renders  thought  possible.  In  knowledge, 
we  must  distinguish  the  matter  and  the  form.  The  matter  is 
given  by  sense  and  consists  of  all  phenomena ;  the  form  is  the 
subjective  laws,  which  out  of  this  chaos  of  elements  make  a 
coherent  whole.  Thus,  instead  of  a  world-soul,  we  have  in  Kant 
the  categories  of  the  understanding,  which,  being  applied  to 
phenomena,  form  the  inflexible  determinism  which  makes 
knowledge  possible,  and  gives  reality  to  the  universe.  In  the 
same  way,  in  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  the  human  soul  also 
resolves  itself  into  laws  of  thought. 

We  can  no  more  infer  from  the  Ego  of  which  I  am  conscious, 
from  the  one  and  identical  thought,  the  existence  of  a  soul  which 
is  a  substance,  than  we  can  from  the  unity  of  the  universe  infer 
a  soul  of  the  world. 

"  In  this  process  of  rational  psychology,  there  lurks  a  paralogism  which 
may  be  represented  by  the  following  syllogism  :  That  which  cannot  be 
conceived  otherwise  than  as  a  subject,  does  not  exist  otherwise  than  as  a 
subject,  and  is  therefore  a  substance.  A  thinking  being,  considered  as 
such,  cannot  be  considered  otherwise  than  as  a  subject.  Therefore  it 
exists  also  as  such — only,  that  is,  as  a  substance.  The  thinking  is  taken  in 
each  of  the  two  premises  in  a  totally  different  meaning.  In  the  major, 
it  refers  to  an  object  in  general  (and  therefore  also  as  it  may  be  given 
in  intuition),  but  in  the  minor,  only  as  it  exists  in  its  relation  to  self- 
consciousness,  where  no  object  is  thought  of,  but  where  we  only  represent 


208  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  relation  to  the  self  as  the  subject  (as  the  form  of  thought).  In  the 
former,  things  are  spoken  of  that  cannot  be  conceived  otherwise  than  as 
subjects  ;  while  in  the  second  we  do  not  speak  of  things  but  of  the 
thinking  (abstraction  being  made  of  all  objects),  wherein  the  Ego  always 
serves  as  the  subject  of  consciousness  "  (Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Transc. 
Dialectic,  Bk.  II,  Ch.  I). 

Thought  appears  to  itself  as  one  and  identical ;  this  is  the 
condition  of  its  very  existence.  From  this  we  learn  nothing  new; 
he  who  says  "  thought,"  says  "  subject  perceiving  itself,  and 
knowing  itself  in  the  series  of  its  successive  ideas";  the  judg- 
ment is  an  analytic  judgment.  This  general  unity  of  thought, 
this  transcendental  apperception  is  the  first  condition  which 
determines  all  the  categories,  all  the  forms  of  thought.  These 
have  meaning  and  value  only  because  they  are  the  means 
which  co-operate  in  producing  the  unity  of  consciousness.  But 
it  is  only  by  a  paralogism,  by  a  sophistical  use  of  the  principle 
of  substance,  that  rational  psychology  professes  to  pass  from 
the  Ego  of  consciousness  to  the  soul,  from  the  phenomenal  to 
the  noumenal  Ego,  and  to  transform  an  analytic  judgment  which 
merely  unfolds  the  concept  of  thought,  into  a  synthetic  judg- 
ment which  presents  the  Ego  I  am  conscious  of  as  a  single  and 
self -identical  substance. 

"  Thus  if  Materialism  was  inadequate  to  explain  my  existence,  Spiritual- 
ism is  equally  insufficient  for  that  purpose,  and  the  conclusion  is,  that,  in 
no  way  whatsoever  can  we  know  anything  of  the  nature  of  our  soul,  so 
far  as  the  possibility  of  its  separate  existence  is  concerned.  And  how 
indeed  should  it  be  possible  by  means  of  that  unity  of  consciousness  which 
we  only  know  because  it  is  indispensable  to  us  for  the  very  possibility  of 
experience,  to  get  beyond  experience  (our  existence  in  life)  and  even 
to  extend  our  knowledge  to  the  nature  of  all  thinking  beings  in  general, 
by  the  empirical,  but,  with  reference  to  every  kind  of  intuition,  undeter- 
mined proposition,  "  I  think."  .  .  .  We  see  from  all  this,  that  rational 
psychology  owes  its  origin  to  a  mere  misunderstanding.  The  unity  of 
consciousness,  on  which  the  categories  are  founded,  is  mistaken  for  an 
intuition  of  the  subject  as  object,  and  the  category  of  substance  applied 
to  it.  But  that  unity  is  only  the  unity  in  thought,  by  which  alone  no 
object  is  given,  and  to  which,  therefore,  the  category  of  substance,  which 
always  presupposes  a  given  intuition,  cannot  be  applied,  and,  therefore, 
the  subject  cannot  be  known  "  (Ibid.). 

Are  we,  then,  condemned  to  know  nothing  of  our  own 
nature  ?  Science  inevitably  leaves  us  in  the  world  of  pheno- 
mena ;  but  if  we  turn  from  pure  reason  to  practical  reason, 


MIND  209 

from  the  faculty  of  thought  to  the  faculty  of  action,  moral 
faith  will  throw  new  light  on  our  nature.  The  idea  of  duty 
implies  the  freedom  of  the  will.  As  a  moral  being  subject  to 
the  law  of  duty,  man  is  independent  of  the  mechanical  laws  of 
nature ;  he  is  a  person,  and  belongs  to  the  kingdom  of  ends-in- 
themselves,  of  noumena.  The  mind  which  feels  and  thinks 
perceives  itself  only  as  a  phenomenon,  the  mind  which  wills 
and  acts  knows  itself  as  a  noumenon.  For  pure  reason, 
the  mind  is  merely  the  phenomenon  of  an  unknown  thing-in- 
itself;  for  practical  reason,  the  mind  is  an  autonomous  and 
free  being. 

Return  to  Metaphysics.    Fichte,  Schilling,  and  Hegel :  Absolute 
Spirit. 

Kant  had  closed  the  world  of  noumena  against  intelligence; 
yet  out  of  his  philosophy  arose  the  boldest  Idealism.  Fichte 
abolishes  these  unknown  and  unknowable  things-in-themselves. 
What  remains  ?  The  mind,  the  Ego.  From  this  single 
principle  all  things  must  be  deduced.  But  this  absolute  Ego,  the 
starting  point  of  philosophic  deduction,  is  not  to  be  confounded 
with  the  individual  empirical  Ego,  revealed  to  us  by  conscious- 
ness. The  absolute  Ego  is  known  by  an  intellectual  intuition 
which  is  the  immediate  consciousness  of  action.  "  The  will  is 
the  very  essence  of  reason,  the  practical  power  is  the  deepest 
root  of  the  Ego."  The  mind  is  activity,  energy,  and  this 
activity  is  reality  itself.  "  The  conscious  subject  and  the 
principle  of  reality  are  identical."  The  mind  makes  all  that  it 
knows ;  it  knows  because  it  acts,  and  in  every  act  of  cognition 
it  knows  itself,  in  all  knowledge  it  knows  something  concerning 
itself.  As  the  Ego  alone  exists,  the  science  of  the  mind  is  the 
science  of  reality.  The  sensible  world  is  an  illusion  born  of  the 
play  of  the  forms  and  categories,  which  opposes  to  the  Ego,  and 
yet  within  the  Ego,  something  that  seems  external  to  it.  But 
the  illusion  is  a  necessary  one,  and  springs  from  the  nature  of 
spirit  and  its  ends.  In  the  same  way,  from  the  absolute  Ego,  as 
a  necessary  moment  in  its  development,  and  from  the  Non-ego 
posited  by  the  Ego,  the  real  plurality  of  the  individual  Egos  is 
deduced.  Thus  for  Fichte  the  only  reality  is  the  spiritual 
reality,  the  Absolute  Ego,  the  universal  soul  whose  essence  is 
•activity  and  which  in  its  development  sets  opposite  to  itself 

II.  0 


210  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

an  external  and  illusory  world,  and  divides  itself  into  a 
plurality  of  free  and  active  beings. 

Fichte,  being  concerned  solely  with  the  moral  life,  admitted 
the  actuality  of  spiritual  reality  alone.  Schelling,  who  was 
well  versed  in  natural  science,  endeavoured  to  escape  from  this 
subjectivity,  and  to  restore  reality  .to  the  world  without 
separating  it  from  the  mind.  The  real  and  the  ideal,  the 
objective  and  subjective,  are,  as  it  were,  the  two  poles  of  the 
Absolute.  The  task  of  philosophy  is  to  evolve  alternately 
Nature  from  intelligence,  and  intelligence  from  Nature,  and  thus 
to  establish  the  identity  of  the  two  terms ;  philosophy  is  com- 
pleted by  the  science  of  the  Beautiful  which  is  created  by  the 
simultaneous  operation  of  the  conscious  and  the  unconscious, 
blended  in  the  inspiration  of  genius.  The  unity  and  pro- 
gress of  the  world  can  only  be  explained  by  a  world-soul 
{Weltseele),  a  plastic  principle  which  organizes  the  universe. 
This  world-soul,  this  Absolute,  which  in  its  indifference  embraces 
and  reconciles  the  subject  and  the  object,  is  apprehended  by 
us  in  an  intellectual  intuition  (intellectuelle  Anschauung),  of  our 
deepest  being.  That  which  in  our  ininds  arrives  at  self- 
consciousness  is  the  very  activity  which  in  Nature  created 
the  universe.  Matter  is  spirit  with  its  fire  extinguished. 
Reality  is  the  evolution  of  the  Absolute,  the  life  of  the  universal 
soul ;  and  philosophy  is  the  history  of  God.  Mind  can  only  be 
understood  by  a  construction  of  the  universe :  the  plurality  of 
souls  is  only  a  means  employed  by  the  Absolute  to  develop 
itself  by  becoming  more  and  more  conscious  of  itself  and  of  its 
freedom. 

Hegel  holds  with  Schelling  that  all  things  come  from  the 
Absolute,  but  he  reproaches  his  predecessor  with  having  posited 
the  Absolute  without  defining  it :  das  Absolute  sei  wie  aus  der 
Pistole  geschossen,  (his  Absolute  was,  as  it  were,  shot  out  of  a 
pistol).  For  Hegel  the  Absolute  is  the  Idea,  reality  is  the 
Truth.  Consciousness  is  only  a  moment  in  the  evolution  of 
Being.  To  absolute  knowledge,  being  and  thought  are  identical ; 
the  rational  is  the  real,  the  real  is  the  rational.  Metaphysics 
is  a  system  of  Logic.  Hegel's  Logic  develops  the  system  of  the 
concepts  which  express  all  the  developments  of  nature  and  of 
spirit.  His  method  is  a  dialectic,  proceeding  by  thesis, 
antithesis,  and  synthesis,  and  thus  advancing  from  contra- 


MIND  211 

dictions  to  ever  fuller  and  more  complex  reconciliations;  a  real 
dialectic  which  is  not  created  by  consciousness,  but  whose 
movement  is  the  same  as  the  movement  of  the  evolution  of 
things.  The  Logic,  in  an  unbroken  dialectical  chain,  leads  to  the 
Philosophy  of  Nature,  that  is  to  say  to  the  Idea  estranged,  as  it 
were,  from  itself;  and  this  again  leads  to  the  Philosophy  of 
Spirit,  or  to  the  Idea  which  has  returned  from  nature  to  itself, 
and  assumes,  along  with  possession  of  itself,  an  existence  that 
is  independent. 

The  development  of  Spirit  is  the  logical  process  which 
leads  it  from  dependence  on  nature  to  freedom,  which  is  its 
essence.  The  moments  of  this  progress  are  the  Subjective- 
Spirit,  the  Objective  Spirit  and  the  Absolute  Spirit.  The  Sub- 
jective Spirit  as  depending  on  nature  and  on  the  body  (human 
temperament,  sleep,  etc.)  is  the  object  of  Anthropology.  Pheno- 
menology deals  with  the  Subjective  Spirit  in  its  progressive 
elevation  towards  reason;  Psychology  considers  it  in  its  specula- 
tive and  practical  powers.  Intelligence  emancipates  itself 
speculatively  when  it  recognizes  that  all  is  reason  realized ; 
practically,  when  its  content  is  determined  by  will. 

The  unity  of  will  and  thought  is  the  active  energy  of  a 
freedom  that  determines  itself.  The  essence  of  morality  is 
will  taking  reason  as  its  end ;  which  means  that  the  mind  is 
free  when  it.  recognizes  that  it  creates  everything,  when,  con- 
sequently, it  wills  everything  that  it  creates ;  in  other  words, 
when  the  Idea,  conscious  of  itself  and  of  its  products,  recognizes 
itself  as  God  in  the  spirit.  Objective  Spirit  consists  in  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  will :  customs,  laws,  states.  Absolute  Spirit  is  Art, 
which  is  the  Idea  appearing  in  a  determinate  form ;  Religion, 
which  is  the  form  under  which  the  Absolute  appears  to  imagin- 
ation and  to  feeling ;  Philosophy,  which  is  the  idea  thinking 
itself,  truth  knowing  itself,  conscious  reason.  The  divine  Spirit 
finds  itself  again  and  comes  to  rest  in  Hegel's  mind  and  in 
that  of  his  disciples.  The  truth,  which  is  now  the  soul,  is  God 
Himself. 

Scottish  and  French  Spiritualism. 

In  the  meantime  a  less  ambitious  philosophy  was  being 
developed  in  Scotland  and  France.  Reid,  the  founder  of  the 
Scottish  school,  appealed  to  common  sense  as  a  means  of 


212  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

escape  from  the  scepticism  of  Hume.  "  I  take  it  for  granted 
that  all  the  thoughts  that  I  am  conscious  of  or  remember,  are 
the  thoughts  of  one  and  the  same  thinking  principle,  which  I 
call  myself,  or  my  mind  "  (On  the  Intell.  Powers,  I,  Ch.  II).  He 
endeavours,  nevertheless,  to  prove  by  logic  the  existence  of  the 
soul  which  he  had  begun  by  assuming  without  discussion. 
Starting  from  a  common-sense  principle,,  he  says :  "  Every 
action  or  operation  therefore  supposes  an  agent ;  every 
quality  supposes  a  subject.  .  .  .  We  do  not  give  the  name  of 
mind  to  thought,  reason,  or  desire,  but  to  that  being  which 
thinks,  which  reasons,  which  desires "  (Ibid.}.  In  order  to 
•  determine  the  nature  of  the  soul  he  reasons  from  phenomena 
to  an  underlying  substance.  "  My  personal  identity  therefore 
implies  the  continued  existence  of  that  indivisible  thing  which 
I  call  myself." 

Eoyer-Collard  accepted  the  doctrines  of  Beid.  Maine 
de  Biran  insists  strongly  on  the  difference  between  the 
knowledge  of  self  which  is  immediate  and  direct,  and  our 
knowledge  of  external  things  which  is  mediate  and  indirect. 
The  soul  considered  in  its  substance  is  an  unknown  quantity, 
but,  through  reflection  on  itself,  the  subject  knows  itself  as  a 
cause,  and  distinguishes  itself  from  all  its  phenomena.  In  the 
primitive  fact  of  effort,  the  Ego  already  apprehends  itself  in  its 
antithesis  to  the  Non-ego,  and  consequently  posits  itself  in  its 
opposition  to  that  which  is  not  itself.  Jouffroy,  who  at  first 
followed  Eeid  in  his  inference  of  substance  from  phenomena, 
finally  associated  himself  with  this  theory,  according  to  which, 
it  is  through  intuitive  reflection  alone  that  we  reach  the  Eyo. 
M.  Eavaisson,  developing  Maine  de  Biran's  ideas,  maintains 
that  reflection  does  not  give  us,  besides  itself,  some  unknown 
substance ;  but  that  it  apprehends  that  very  essence  of  the  soul 
which  is,  in  the  first  place,  force,  and  finally  love,  since  force 
presupposes  a  tendency.  At  the  same  time  he  insists  on  the 
incessant  passage  of  life  into  thought,  and  he  abandons  the 
Cartesian  dualism  for  a  doctrine  which  approaches  the  theories 
of  Leibnitz  and  Schelling. 

Conclusion. 

The  hypothesis  of  a  soul  is  suggested  by  the  necessity 
of  finding  a  reason  both  for  the  unity  of  the  universe  and 


MIND  213 

for  the  unity  of  the  body  and  of  thought.  Hence  the  hypo- 
thesis of  a  universal  soul  and  of  individual  souls.  The  theory 
of  a  world-soul  is  apt  to  reappear  whenever  men  have  tried  to 
dispense  with  a  creative  and  providential  God.  Materialism, 
Empiricism,  Criticism,  Spiritualism  are,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
chief  solutions  which  have  been  proposed.  Materialism,  evading 
the  question,  leaves  us  only  a  principle  of  division  and  multi- 
plicity, which  it  has  not  even  succeeded  in  defining.  Empiricism, 
by  developing  in  its  analyses  the  data  of  the  problem — which 
it  refuses  to  attack — has  assisted  in  making  the  problem  stand 
out  more  clearly.  Criticism,  in  the  a  priori  forms  of  thought, 
provides  an  explanation  of  both  the  concatenation  of  phenomena 
and  the  unity  of  the  mind.  The  different  metaphysical 
hypotheses  are  the  result  of  repeated  efforts  to  find  for  the 
harmony  of  the  universe,  as  for  the  unity  of  the  body  and 
the  human  mind,  a  real  principle  which  would  be  their 
sufficient  reason. 


CHAPTER    IV 
THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND 

THOSE  systems  of  philosophy  which  exclude  dualism  are  yet 
obliged  to  account  in  some  way  for  the  appearances  which 
have  suggested  the  hypothesis  of  two  ultimate  substances. 
Every  metaphysical  theory  admits  the  existence  of  an  active 
and  a  passive  principle,  and  seeks  in  the  relations  of  these 
two  terms  an  explanation  of  nature  and  of  human  life.  What 
we  have  then  to  look  for  in  History  are  the  solutions  succes- 
sively proposed  for  the  problem  which  in  its  acute  form,  so  to 
speak,  becomes  the  problem  of  the  intercommunication  of 
substances.  In  this  way  we  shall  complete  our  summary  of 
the  essential  elements  in  the  great  metaphysical  theories 
concerning  nature  and  man. 

Pre-Socratic  Philosophy :  Confusion  between  Active  and 
Passive  Principles. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  first  Greek  philosophers  had  no  clear 
conception  of  the  distinction  between  matter  and  mind.  The 
element  whose  evolution  constituted  the  world,  was  at  once 
matter  and  force.  Thales'  fluid  principle  was  a  living,  divine 
thing  (Arist.  De  Anim.  411  a,  7).  The  air  of  Anaximenes  was 
in  perpetual  motion,  and  was  God  (Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  1,  10). 
Diogenes  of  Apollonius,  to  explain  the  order  of  the  world, 
contents  himself  with  making  intelligence  an  attribute  of  the 
material  element  (air),  which,  according  to  him,  constitutes 
the  substance  of  things  (Simplic,  In  Phys.  36&).  With 
Heraclitus,  fire  is  at  once  the  primary  element  of  things,  the 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       215 

principle  of  motion  by  its  incessant  transformation  and 
by  the  law  of  the  union  of  contraries  immanent  in  it,  and 
the  principle  of  harmony.  In  man,  body  and  mind  are 
distinguished,  but  this  distinction  does  not  go  so  far  as  to 
represent  them  as  opposite  substances.  Body  is  fire  densifie"d : 
spirit  is  the  primitive  fire  in  its  purity  (Arist.  De  Anima. 
1,  2,  405  a,  25). 

The  distinction  between  the  corporeal  and  the  incorporeal 
was  unknown  to  the  Eleatics  also.  Parmenides  describes 
Being  as  a  continuous,  homogeneous,  limited  mass,  extending 
in  every  direction  equally  from  its  centre  (V,  102  sq.*). 
Thought,  to  him,  was  not  distinct  from  Being ;  outside  of 
Being  there  was  nothing,  and  all  thought  was  thought  of 
Being  (V,  94). 

The  Pythagorean  cosmology  was  based  on  the  principle  of 
order  and  harmony.  The  earth  was  not  the  centre  of  the 
universe,  because  of  itself  it  is  without  light.  The  central  fire 
was  luminous  and  motionless,  because  light  and  rest  stand  in  the 
series  of  things  that  are  good.  Are  we  to  understand  from 
this  that  for  the  Pythagoreans  the  principle  of  harmony  was 
something  distinct  from  the  matter  which  it  governs  ?  Certainly 
not.  What  we  find  in  the  world  is  the  quality  of  the  elements 
which  constitute  it.  If  all  things  are  made  of  Numbers  it  is 
because  Number  is  the  substance  of  things.  "  Undoubtedly," 
says  Aristotle,  "  they  appear  to  consider  Number  to  be  a  first 
principle,  and,  as  it  were,  a  material  cause  of  things,  and  of 
their  divers  modifications  and  habits  "  (Aristotle,  Metaph.  Book 
V,  5, 986  a,  15). 

In  the  doctrine  of  Democritus,  motion  was  eternal,  and 
therefore  the  hypothesis  of  any  motor  cause  distinct  from 
matter  was  superfluous.  The  soul  consisted  of  atoms  which 
were  connected  with  its  moving  and  life-giving  power,  and 
filled  the  whole  universe.  The  air  contained  a  great  deal 
of  soul  and  of  reason,  because  it  contained  a  great  many 
psychical  atoms :  ev  yap  rip  aepi  moXw  apiO/mov  etvat  TU)V 
TOIOVTWV,  a  KaXel  eiceivos  vovv  KOI  ^v^jv  (Arist.  De  Resp. 
c.  4).  Ignited  atoms  engendered  motion  and  life  through 
their  physical  properties,  and  when  accumulated  in  a  great 
mass  they  produced  thought,  which  was  merely  a  kind  of 
motion.  The  human  soul  being  an  extended  thing,  there 


216  THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

was  no  difficulty  in  placing  it  in  the  body ;  it,  in  fact,  per- 
vaded the  whole  body. 

Empedocles  distinguishes  from  his  four  material  elements, 
two  moving  forces,  love  and  hate;  the  former  joins  and 
combines  the  elements,  while  the  latter  separates  them 
(V,  80  sq.).  However,  he  treats  these  two  forces  at  one 
time  as  mythological  beings,  at  another  as  corporeal  elements 
mixed  with  things. 

Anaxagoras  was  the  first  to  distinguish  the  force  which 
moves,  from  the  matter  which  is  moved.  He  sets  above 
the  elements  the  Intelligence  which  governs  them,  but  his 
Not!?  has  still  something  of  a  natural  or  impersonal  cor- 
poreal force.  It  is  the  purest,  the  most  subtle  of  things : 
AeTTTOTaToi'  re  TTOLVTWV  ^p^jmaTtav  KOI  KaQapwTa-rov  (Fr.  6), 
and  seems  to  penetrate  all  things  like  an  extended  fluid. 
Indeed,  Socrates  (Phaedo,  98  &)  and  Aristotle  (Met.  1,  4,  985  a, 
18)  reproach  Anaxagoras  with  having  made  no  use  of  the 
principle  which  he  invented,  with  having  only  made  intelligence 
intervene  when  he  was  unable  to  discover  the  mechanical 
causes  of  a  phenomenon. 

To  sum  up :  the  distinction  between  matter  and  force 
was  not  perceived  either  by  the  old  Ionic  philosophers,  or  the 
Pythagoreans,  or  the  Eleatics.  Democritus  got  rid  of  the 
problem  by  boldly  carrying  back  the  origin  of  motion  to 
infinity.  With  Empedocles,  and,  more  clearly  still,  with 
Anaxagoras,  the  notions  of  matter  and  force  began  to  be 
distinguished,  but  the  notion  of  force  itself  was  still  very 
vague,  and  its  action  on  matter  could  only  be  explained  by 
mixing  it  with  the  latter,  as  if  it  were  a  kind  of  extended 
fluid. 

It  is  not  easy  to  say  what  was  Socrates'  conception 
of  matter  and  of  its  relation  to  mind ;  for  though  he 
willingly  dwelt  on  the  proofs  of  design  in  nature,  he  did 
not  trouble  himself  much  with  the  greater  metaphysical 
problems.  The  universe,  he  said,  was  a  work  of  art 
which  presupposed  a  Divine  Artist ;  and  as  for  God's 
relation  to  the  world,  we  have  a  kind  of  experience  of  it 
in  the  relation  of  our  soul  to  our  body  (Mem.  I,  iv,  17). 
This  was  not  a  solution  of  the  problem,  but  merely  another 
way  of  expressing  it. 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       217 

Plato :  Matter  is  Non-being ;  the  Bodily  Mechanism  is  sub- 
ordinate to  the  Ends  of  the  Soul. 

Matter  for  Plato  was  Non-being.  In  his  system  there 
is,  consequently,  only  one  reality,  one  substance,  which  is 
the  Idea ;  phenomena  are  "  rays  of  the  Ideas,  broken 
up  in  the  void  and  obscurity  of  infinite  space "  (Zeller). 
But  whence  are  we  to  derive  Non- being  ?  From  the 
Idea  ?  But  this  would  be  to  deduce  Non-being  from  Being. 
If  the  Idea  alone  is  real  all  the  reality  of  the  sensible  world 
must  be  in  the  Idea.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  Idea  is 
immutable  and  eternal,  if  it  is  above  plurality,  above  becoming, 
what  is  sensible  cannot  flow  from  it.  Now,  we  seem  to 
be  logically  brought  back  to  dualism.  Matter  is  not  absolute 
Non-being,  for  it  limits  the  being  of  the  Idea  in  the  sensible 
world.  Plato  appears  to  oppose  matter  to  the  Idea,  as  if  it 
were  an  obstacle,  or  limit,  as  something  which  is  external 
to  the  idea,  and  into  which  the  idea  never  entirely  penetrates. 
And  if  it  is  difficult  to  understand  how  the  sensible  world  is 
derived  from  the  world  of  Ideas,  the  question  of  the  actual 
relation  between  these  two  worlds  is  not  less  obscure  in 
Plato. 

In  the  existence  of  the  Ideas,  there  is  nothing  surprising, 
since,  by  their  very'  definition,  these  Ideas  constitute  the  whole 
of  reality ;  but  what  is  the  use  of  the  sensible  world  which 
exists  alongside  of  the  ideal  one,  and  what  is  this  other  reality 
which  is  not  reality  ?  Plato  thinks  he  solves  this  problem 
by  his  theory  of  Participation  (yueOe£*?).  Sensible  things 
exist  only  in  so  far  as  they  participate  in  the  Ideas.  But  how 
does  this  /xe'Oe^t?  take  place  ?  How  is  it  possible  ?  How  can 
the  One  and  the  Many,  the  immutable  and  the  becoming,  Being 
and  Non-being,  what  is  in  space  and  what  is  above  space, — 
how  can  these  contradictory  terms  be  joined  together  and 
combined  in  the  unity  of  appearance ;  and  how  is  their 
relation  to  one  another  in  this  unity  to  be  conceived  ?  (see 
Zeller). 

In  the  Timaeus,  cosmology  prepares  the  way  for  psychology. 
The  cosmos,  which  is  a  system  of  spheres  in  rotation,  is  a 
living  thing ;  it  possesses  a  soul  and  a  body.  The  cosmic 
soul  is  endowed  with  spontaneous  motion  and  with  know- 
ledge ;  extending  throughout  the  world  from  its  centre  to  its 


218  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

extremities,  this  soul  moves  the  world  in  moving  itself.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  Plato  does  not  mean  this  theory  to 
be  taken  literally,  and  that  in  it  many  mythical  notions 
are  interwoven  with  the  philosopher's  true  conception.  In 
man  the  soul  is  higher  than  the  body,  and  can  exist  with- 
out it,  since  it  existed  before  it.  The  soul  fulfils  without 
the  intervention  of  the  body,  its  highest  function,  which 
is  pure  thought.  On  the  other  hand,  the  two  terms  are 
not  altogether  unconnected. 

In  the  first  place,  the  body  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  instrument  of 
the  soul,  which  existed  before  the  body,  and  therefore  cannot  be  its 
harmony.  Far  from  being  its  effect,  the  soul  is  rather  the  cause  of  the 
organization  of  the  body,  and  it  is  in  the  needs,  in  the  functions  of  the 
soul,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  reason  of  the  bodily  mechanism.  The 
soul  is  divided  into  three  parts :  vous,  #u/xos,  etnBvfua.  The  vovs 
is  situated  in  the  head  ;  the  seat  of  the  rational  soul  is  the  brain  (Tim. 
73  d)  ;  this  higher  soul  is  composed  of  the  same  elements  as  the  cosmic 
soul,  is  endowed  with  the  same  properties  of  spontaneous  motion  and 
knowledge,  and  performs  in  the  head,  which  is  a  kind  of  microcosm,  the 
same  harmonic  evolutions.  The  dvpos  is  placed  in  the  breast,  between 
the  VOTJS  and  the  firidvpia,  in  order  to  carry  out  more  properly  the 
orders  of  the  vous,  and  at  the  same  time  be  able  to  restrain  the  desires 
(Tim.  70 a).  The  tiridvuia  has  its  seat  below  the  diaphragm,  in  the 
abdominal  region  (Tim.  70  e).  But  both  these  latter  parts  are  connected 
with  the  spinal  marrow,  and  in  this  way  the  unity  of  the  three  souls  is 
represented  in  the  bodily  organism  (Tim.  73  V).  The  heart,  which  is  the 
starting-point  of  the  veins,  is  the  physiological  centre  of  the  Ovfj.6s  :  it 
takes  orders  from  the  vows  and  transmits  them  through  the  blood-vessels 
to  all  parts  of  the  body  ( Tim.  70  6).  Impressions  from  without  travel  by 
the  same  paths,  only  in  an  opposite  sense.  Thus  the  blood-vessels  are  made 
to  play  the  part  of  conductors,  a  function  which  we  now  ascribe  to  the  nerves 
(Tim.  65  c).  The  vous  is  connected  with  the  eTri6v/Ma  by  the  liver.  The 
eiridvpia  cannot  obey  Reason  directly,  it  can  only  be  guided  by  images. 
On  the  polished  and  brilliant  surface  of  the  liver,  as  in  a  mirror,  the 
vovs  causes  images  that  are  either  fearful  or  delightful,  to  appear, 
changes  the  natural  sweetness  of  this  organ  into  bitterness  by  the  secre- 
tion of  bile,  or,  on  the  contrary,  restores  it  to  its  original  condition  by 
terrifying  or  soothing  the  part  of  the  soul  which  dwells  in  that  region 
of  the  body  (Tim.  71  b). 

In  these  assertions  the  important  point  is  that  the  bodily 
organism  has  a  psychical  purpose,  that  the  body  is  to  be 
understood  through  the  soul  and  is  its  instrument.  This  does 
not  mean  that  the  body  does  not  react  upon  the  soul.  The 


body  is  the  source  of  the  errors  and  passions  by  which  most 
men  are  so  strongly  bound  to  sensible  life. 

A  movement  caused  in  the  body  by  an  external  impression  communi- 
cates itself  to  the  movement  of  the  soul  (Tim.  61  d).  When  these  external 
impressions  are  too  violent,  exact  knowledge  is  impossible.  The  health  of 
the  body  is  necessary  to  the  health  of  the  soul  (Tim.  86-90),  and  vice  versa 
( Tim.  66  e).  The  best  relation  between  these  two  terms  is  that  of  harmony 
and  proportion  (avpfurpia.).  This  intimate  relation  between  the  organism 
and  the  mind  explains  the  importance  attached  by  Plato  to  genera- 
tion. The  qualities  and  defects  of  parents  are  transmitted  by  heredity 
to  their  children ;  the  legislator  should  therefore  possess  the  art  of  uniting 
temperaments  in  their  most  favourable  proportions  (Polit.  310). 

We  must  confess  that  it  is  not  clear  how  the  condition  of 
the  bodies  of  the  parents  at  the  time  of  conception  could  so  affect 
a  soul  which  pre-exists  the  body  it  animates.  Here  we  have 
in  another  form  the  problem  of  the  transition  from  the 
intelligible  to  the  sensible. 

Aristotle :  Matter  and  Form ;  Relation  of  Matter  to  Form ; 
Correspondence  between  the  Soul  and  the  Body  ;  The  Trvevfia. 

In  Aristotle's  teaching,  matter  is  that  which  can  become 
either  this  or  the  other,  which,  considered  in  the  abstract,  is 
indifferent  to  any  determination,  and  is  the  permanent  subject 
of  all  change.  Form  is  the  evepyeia,  the  realization  of  the 
potential  and  its  completion,  evreXe^em.  Form  and  matter 
therefore  require  no  intermediate  term  to  unite  them ;  when 
the  potential  becomes  the  real,  two  substances  are  not 
combined,  for  matter  is  the  thing  as  it  exists  potentially,  and 
form  is  the  same  thing  become  real  (Met.  1045  J,  17). 

Matter  is  not  Non-being  or  a  mere  logical  possibility  :  eyyvs 
KOI  ovcriav  7r&>9  Trjs  v\n<5  (Phys.  I,  9).  It  contains  as  a 
tendency,  that  of  which  the  form  is  the  reality  :  m/ro?  yap 
TiJ/o?  Oeiov  KOI  ayaOov  KOI  e<p€TOu,  TO  /uej/  evavTiov  avTia  (ba/mev 
elvai,  TO  oe  o  7re(hvKev  €<pi€<r9a.i  KOI  opeyevQai  avrov  KUTU  Tr/v 
eavTov  <pvcriv  (Phys.  I,  9).  Matter  aspires  to  attain  form,  which 
excites  it  to  motion  and  makes  it  complete. 

Matter  without  determination  is  a  pure  potentiality,  and  can 
never  therefore  be  a  reality. 

Matter  is  always  given  in  a  determinate  form  :  ov  ^wpia-Trj,  dXX'  del 
ptT  evavTidxreeos  (De  Gen.  et  Cor.  II,  1).  The  same  thing  may  be  in  one 


220 

sense  matter  and  in  another  form.  Marble  is  matter  with  relation  to  the 
statue,  and  form  inasmuch  as  it  is  marble.  Thus  matter  arises  from  form 
to  form  in  a  progressive  evolution.  The  first  indeterminate  matter,  which 
we  can  only  know  by  analogy,  would  in  the  last  resort  be  found  to  under- 
lie all  reality  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  each  thing  has  its  own  last  and 
special  matter  (e(r^aT>;,  Kios,  otxeia  eKacrrov).  The  marble,  for  instance, 
is  the  last  matter  of  the  statue,  and  between  these  two  extremes  as  inter- 
mediate terms,  are  all  the  forms  successively  taken  by  the  first  matter, 
before  it  became  this  last,  determinate  matter,  to  which  this  highest  form 
is  immediately  united. 

Between  the  TrpwTt]  v\tj  and  pure  form,  or  God,  we  are  to 
conceive  a  series  of  progressive  forms,  a  hierarchy  the  terms  of 
which  presuppose  one  another.  A  continuous  movement  of  the 
potential  towards  an  ever-higher  reality  under  the  impulse  of 
the  desire  which  Divine  Perfection  awakens  in  nature,  evolu- 
tion and  continuity,  herein  lies  the  solution  of  the  whole 
problem :  matter  is  no  longer  opposed  to  form  as  the  non- 
existent to  Being  ;  the  potential  is  the  necessary  antecedent  of 
the  actual ;  there  is  no  opposition  between  the  two  terms, 
except  in  the  sense  that  matter,  according  to  the  stage  of 
development  at  which  we  take  it,  is  only  adapted  to  receive 
such  and  such  a  determinate  form. 

Aristotle  appears  in  this  way  to  avoid  the  difficulties  which 
the  Platonic  conception  involves.  But  the  form,  with  him,  is 
the  universal,  the  object  of  knowledge ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 
universal  only  exists  in  particular  beings,  and  the  real  is  the 
individual  which  implies  matter  as  well  as  form.  This  being 
the  case,  how  could  he  say  that  matter  is  pure  potentiality  ?  If 
form  is  the  true  reality,  and  if,  as  such,  it  is  opposed  to  matter, 
and  to  the  compound  of  matter  and  form,  how  are  we  to 
reconcile  the  two  statements  that  the  form  is  the  universal, 
and  that  the  particular  alone  is  real  ?  Aristotle  does  not,  in 
fact,  succeed  in  harmonizing  the  Platonic  and  Empirical  elements 
in  his  doctrine,  according  to  which  the  universal  is  the  real, 
and  yet  it  is  in  the  individual  alone  that  the  universal  is 
found. 

The  union  of  soul  and  body  is  merely  a  particular  case  of 
the  problem  of  the  union  of  matter  and  form.  The  form  has 
no  existence  outside  of  or  apart  from  the  matter  of  which  it  is 
the  realization ;  the  soul  is  the  form  of  the  body  (eiSo?).  Life  is 
not  to  be  conceived  as  a  combination  of  heterogeneous  elements, 


THE  EELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       221 


(Meta.  1045).  The  soul  is  the  active  force 
in  the  body  ;  the  body  is  the  natural  instrument  of  the  soul  : 
•wavTa  TO.  <pv<TiKa  (ru)ju.a.Ta  Trjs  ^wxfj?  opyava  (De  An.  II,  4).  In 
a  word,  soul  and  body  are  correlative  terms,  logically  separable 
but  actually  inseparable. 

The  soul  can  neither  be  without  the  body,  nor  be  itself  a  body  of  any 
kind  (II^T  avev  o-w/xaros  etvcu  /-t^re  crw/m  TI  rj  foxy),  for  it  is  not  a  body, 
but  is  yet  something  of  the  body  (crw/iaros  8e  TI),  and,  therefore,  present 
innately  in  the  body,  and  in  a  body  peculiarly  constituted:  KCU  Sta  TOVTO 
ev  o-oj/Aart  virdp\fi,  KO.L  ei/  o-cu^ari  roiovrif  (De  An.  II,  2).  Not  that  we 
are  to  regard  the  soul  as  the  resultant  of  two  forces  ;  as  its  formal  and 
final  cause,  it  is  rather  the  principle,  the  reason  of  the  organism  :  «TTI  8'  -rj 
fox*i  r°v  <^VTOS  <T(ap.a.TO<s  airta  KCU  ap^  (De  An.  II,  4).  The  soul  is  the 
realization  (evreAe^tta)  of  that  which,  in  the  body,  only  exists  potentially. 

All  the  actions  and  passions  of  a  living  being  have  therefore 
two  aspects  —  one  of  which  is  formal  and  of  the  soul,  and 
the  other  material  and  of  the  body.  When  an  animal  or  a 
man  is  angry,  his  emotion  is  at  once  a  mental  and  a  bodily 
fact.  Eegarded  as  a  fact  of  the  soul,  it  may  be  called  a  desire 
to  injure  one  who  has  injured  us  ;  regarded  as  a  fact  of  the 
body,  it  may  be  called  an  ebullition  of  the  blood  and  a  warmth 
in  the  region  of  the  heart  (De  An.  1,  1  ;  see  Alex.  Bain,  Psychology 
of  Aristotle).  These  two  aspects  of  the  same  emotion,  though 
they  may  be  logically  distinct,  are,  in  fact,  correlative,  and 
imply  one  another.  In  the  same  way,  all  our  acts  are  at  once 
physical  and  psychical  ;  and  health  of  the  soul  implies  health 
of  the  body.  The  superiority  of  our  organism  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  it  is  the  instrument  of  a  superior  kind  of  soul  ;  man 
does  not  think  because  he  has  hands,  he  has  hands  because  he 
thinks  (De  An.  II,  4).  Aristotle,  however,  makes  one  exception. 
The  active  intellect,  the  vov<;  TTOIIJTIKO^,  has  no  bodily  organ  ; 
it  comes  from  without  (OvpaOev),  is  separable  (xoywro?  /cat 
a-TraOfjs  /cat  a/uny^\  and  alone  eternal  and  immortal  :  aQdvaTov 
/cat  ai'Siov  (De  An.  III.  5). 

But  is  it  not  possible  to  determine  more  precisely  the 
element  in  which  the  soul  dwells,  and  with  which  it  is  com- 
municated from  one  being  to  another  in  the  act  of  generation  1 

Every  kind  of  heat,  according  to  Aristotle,  the.  heat  of  the  sun  as  well 
as  that  of  organisms,  is  a  principle  of  life  (^WTIKT)  ap^r;).  The  living  body 
and  all  its  parts  must  have  a  material,  innate  warmth  :  oay 


THE  PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

(f>vcriK-ijv  (De  Vit.  4),  the  principle  of  which  is  in  the  heart, 
where  the  psychical  fire,  so  to  speak,  burns  (rr/s  ^\^s  wo-Tre/a  e^iTreTrupev- 
yu.ei/^s).  The  higher  animals  are  those  which  possess  more  abundantly 
the  dep/Aov  (De  liespir.  13).  Life  is  extinguished  at  the  same  time  as  the 
flame  of  the  heart.  The  warmth  communicates  itself  to  the  inner  air, 
which,  in  this  way,  participates  in  the  vital  force.  The  seed  is  rendered 
fertile  by  the  warmth  that  is  in  it  (TO  Ka.\ovp.evov  Btppov).  This  warmth 
is  not  a  fire  but  the  Trvev/j.a  which  is  contained  in  the  male  and  the 
female  seed,  or  rather,  the  nature  contained  in  this  Trvev^a  (fj  ev  T£ 
7rvfVfMa.TL  <£iVis),  a  nature  which  resembles  that  of  the  stars  :  dvdXoyov 
ovara  TO>  r(av  curjyxov  (rroiytiw — Oeiorepov  r(av  KaXovp-evwv  OTOIY^ICOV 
(De  Gen.  Anim.  II,  3).  In  short,  the  vital  heat  is  the  Tryev/za,  and  the 
principle  of  the  Trveu/m  is  in  the  heart. 

From  this  it  seems  probable  that  for  Aristotle  the  vital  heat 
is  connected  with  air,  but. its  primary  principle  is  heat,  since  the 
pneuma  is  merely  heated  air,  and  participates  in  the  properties 
of  heat,  which  it  spreads  all  over  the  body. 

Theory  of  the  7rvevju.a  before  Aristotle.  Theory  of  the  7ri>ev/u.a 
with  ike  Stoics.  God  and  the  World.  The  Soul  and  the  Body, 
a  Physical  Mixture.  The  Epicureans:  Animal  and  Rational 
Souls. 

The  theory  of  the  Trvev/u-a,  of  air  mingled  with  the  vital  heat 
which  refines  and  subtilizes  it,  played  a  most  important  part  in 
the  physiology  of  the  ancients.  This  hypothesis  was  generally 
accepted  as  an  explanation  both  of  physical  life  itself  and  of 
the  relation  of  soul  to  body.  Even  after  the  pneuma  had 
become  one  of  the  most  elevated  conceptions  of  Christian 
theology  (i.e.  that  of  the  Holy  Ghost),  all  through  the  Middle 
Ages  and  until  the  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood,  the  physiological  theory  of  the  pneuma  lost  none  of  its 
importance.  Descartes'  theory  of  the  animal  spirits  is  the 
form  in  which  it  appears  for  the  last  time  (see  Herm.  Siebeck, 
Gesch.  der  Psych.}. 

According  to  Heraclitus,  it  is  from  the  outer  air  that,  partly 
through  respiration  and  partly  through  the  organs  of  sensation, 
we  derive  the  warmth  which  is  the  principle  of  life  and  of 
intelligence.  Hippocrates,  in  his  treatise,  De  Aere,  Aquis,  et 
Locis,  ascribes  to  the  nature  of  the  surrounding  air  a  great 
influence  on  the  organism  and  on  the  characters  of  races. 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       223 

After  Hippocrates  the  theory  of  the  Trveu/ma  became  current 
in  the  physiology  of  the  ancients.  Physicians  were  agreed  in 
finding  a  close  relation  between  the  two  facts  of  animal  heat 
and  respiration.  Air,  they  said,  enters  into  the  organism  by 
means  of  respiration  and  becomes  heated ;  the  Trvev/jia  is  also 
formed  by  the  evaporation  of  the  humid  elements  through  the 
action  of  the  organic  heat  of  the  animal  elements  contained  in 
the  food  introduced  into  the  stomach.  It  circulates  with  the 
blood  and  flows  all  over  the  body ;  it  acts  at  once  mechanically 
according  to  its  density  and  to  its  own  motion,  and  dynamically 
as  the  principle  of  organization,  or  as  a  vital  force.  "  The 
pneuma  comes  from  the  air,  and  flows  through  the  veins, 
reaching  thus  the  internal  cavities  of  the  body,  and  especially 
the  brain,  whence  it  determines  our  thought  and  the  movement 
of  our  limbs  "  (Hipp.  De  Morb.  sacr.). 

The  physician  Praxagoras,  who  lived  at  the  time  of  Alex- 
ander, distinguished  the  arteries  from  the  veins.  The  veins 
were  full  of  blood,  and  the  arteries,  which  in  a  corpse  are 
empty,  only  serve  for  the  circulation  of  the  air,  or  of  the 
pneuma;  and  they  play  in  sensation  the  part  which  we 
attribute  to  the  nerves.  As  numerous  anastomoses  were  found 
between  the  veins  and  the  arteries,  a  whole  theory  of  disease 
was  based  on  the  invasion  of  the  arteries  by  the  blood. 

The  Stoics,  in  their  explanations  of  the  relations  between 
the  soul  and  the  body,  followed  their  predecessors  in  most  of 
their  ideas  concerning  the  Trvev/ma,  but  they  developed  this 
theory,  and  in  their  turn  exercised  a  real  influence  on  ancient 
physiology.  According  to  them,  the  union  of  soul  and  body  is 
only  a  particular  case  of  the  union  of  matter  and  force.  All 
things  are  corporeal,  all  are  derived  from  the  primitive  fire,  and 
must  return  to  it  some  day.  In  the  actual  state  of  the 
universe,  however,  in  consequence  of  the  relaxation  which  is 
gradually  extinguishing  the  primitive  substance,  it  is  possible 
to  distinguish  the  active  from  the  passive,  and  inert  matter 
from  the  rational  and  active  cause.  Not  that  matter  and  form 
are,  as  in  Aristotle,  principles  that  have  a  different  origin 
although  eternally  bound  together.  Matter  is  derived  from 
fire ;  form  is  corporeal,  and  is  itself  the  irvev/jLa.  TrupoeiSe? 
KOI  rexvoeiSes,  the  fiery,  organizing  breath  or  spirit.  Form 
being  corporeal,  its  union  with  matter  cannot  be  anything  but 


224  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

a  physical  mixture,  and  since  the  essential  quality  of  a  body  is 
present  in  all  its  elements,  it  follows  that  one  body  can 
penetrate  the  parts  of  another  body,  or,  to  use  Plutarch's 
expression,  that  a  body  may  be  the  place  of  a  body  (Plut. 
Comm.  Not,  37,  2). 

Thus  the  Stoics  were  led  to  deny  impenetrability.  They 
went  so  far  as  to  say  that  a  smaller  body  mixed  with  a  larger 
one  will  become  the  same  size  as  the  latter :  one  drop  of  wine 
will  make  the  sea  red  (D.L.  vn,  151).  In  this  way  there  is  a 
mixture  of  all  parts,  icpacris  §i  oXcov,  of  form  with  matter,  of 
God  with  the  world :  Divinus  spiritus  per  omnia  maxima  ac 
minima  aequali  intentione  diffusus  (Sen.  Consol.  ad  Helv.  8,  3). 
The  harmony  between  all  the  parts  of  the  universe  can  only  be 
explained  by  this-  tension  of  the  Divine  Creator :  haec  ita  fieri 
omnibus  inter  se  concinentibus  mitndi  partibus  profecto  won 
possent,  nisi  ea  uno  divino  et  continuato  spiritu  continerentur 
(Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  II,  7,  19). 

The  Stoics,  who  regarded  the  universe  as  an  animal,  used  to 
speculate  as  to  the  seat  of  its  soul,  i.e.  as  to  the  centre  whence 
the  active  forces  radiated  and  extended  throughout  the  world. 
Most  of  them  placed  the  riye/noviKov  in  the  higher  regions,  in 
the  ether.  Clean thes  held  that  it  was  in  the  sun  (Cic.  Acad. 
II,  41,  126).  The  human  soul  is  a  fragment  of  the  universal 
soul,  and  is  to  the  organism  what  God  is  to  the  world ;  for  it 
extends  throughout  the  body,  and  maintains  all  its  elements  in 
a  state  of  mutual  sympathy. 

The  relations  of  the  soul  to  the  body  sufficed  to  prove  that 
the  former  is  corporeal,  since  only  a  body  can  act  upon  a  body. 
Thus  the  union  of  soul  and  body  was  explained  by  a  physical 
mixture.  The  soul  was  a  Trvev/u.a,  a  fiery  breath,  fed  by  the 
vapours  of  the  blood,  as  the  stars  are  fed  by  vapours  of  the 
earth.  The  seat  of  the  soul  is  not  in  the  brain  but  in  the 
heart;  for  does  not  the  air  we  breathe  penetrate  into  our  chest  ? 
Does  not  speech,  that  first  manifestation  of  thought,  proceed 
from  the  chest  ?  In  generation  a  part  of  the  soul  of  the  parents 
is  transmitted  to  the  embryo,  which,  as  long  as  it  is  in  the 
womb,  has  only  a  vegetable  soul.  It  is  after  birth,  and 
under  the  action  of  the  external  air,  that,  by  a  sort  of  con- 
densation, the  animal  soul  is  formed  (Plut.  De  Stoic,  repugn. 
41,1,8).  The  seven  parts  of  the  soul  (the  five  senses,  faculty  of 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND        225 

speech,  and  the  reproductive  faculty)  extend  throughout  the 
body,  starting  from  the  ^efj-oviKov,  that  is,  from  the  central 
and  higher  force,  like  the  arms  of  a  polypus  (Pint.  De  Plac. 
Ph.  IV,  4,  2). 

To  the  Epicureans,  as  to  the  Stoics,  the  reciprocal  action  of 
the  body  and  the  soul  was  a  sufficient  proof  of  the  corporeality 
of  the  latter  (Lucr.  III.  61  sq.).  The  soul  was  composed  of  fire, 
of  air,  of  pneuma,  and  of  a  fourth  more  mobile,  more  subtle 
element,  which  was  the  principle  of  sensation  (Lucr.  Ill,  231 
sq.).  The  irrational  soul  (anima)  extended  throughout  the 
body,  of  which  it  was  the  vivifying  force.  The  rational  soul 
(animus,  mens,  Lucr.)  is  situated  in  the  breast,  and  it  alone 
possesses  sensation  and  motion  (D.L.  x,  66).  These  two  souls, 
although  they  constitute  one  and  the  same  being,  may  yet  not 
be  both  in  the  same  condition,  and  hence  the  mind  may  be 
serene,  whilst  the  animal  soul  is  in  pain. 


Galen  gives  a  definite  form  to  the  Physiology  of  the 
Functions  of  the  Brain,  the  Marrow  and  the  Nerves. 

In  the  meantime,  the  physiological  theory  of  the  7ri>ev/j.a  was 
being  developed  on  corresponding  lines  by  physicians.  For 
many  centuries  a  school  of  medicine  nourished  at  Alexandria, 
in  which  experiments  and  vivisection  were  practised,  the  nerves 
and  the  brain  were  studied,  and  discoveries  were  made  which 
were  to  be  revived  in  our  days  —  for  example,  the  distinction 
between  the  sensitive  and  motor  nerves.  Galen,  the  greatest 
of  these  physicians,  adopted  the  theory  of  the  Trvev/ma,  but 
endeavoured  to  give  it  more  unity  and  coherence.  His  theory 
was  that  the  heart  and  the  arteries  receive  air  in  the  diastole 
of  the  pulse,  and  eject  the  air  that  has  become  impure,  in  the 
systole.  The  heart,  which  is  the  focus  of  the  organic  heat, 
provides  the  lungs  with  blood,  and  receives  from  the  lungs  and 
the  arteries  the  Trveu/xa,  which  returns  through  the  left  ventricle 
of  the  heart  into  the  arteries,  and  flows  through  the  latter  all 
over  the  body.  Air  when  inhaled  undergoes  in  the  organism 
modifications  which  refine  and  subtilize  it.  In  the  lungs  it 
mingles  with  the  pneuma  that  is  present  at  birth,  irvev/jia 
vv/u.(f)vTov  ;  in  the  heart  and  in  the  arteries,  and  afterwards  in 
the  ventricles  of  the  brain,  it  is  elaborated  and  refined,  and,  in  this 
way,  it  becomes  the  Trvev/j.a  fyrrtKov,  the  vital  breath,  in  which 
ii.  P 


226  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

form  it  is  found  especially  in  the  heart  and  arteries,  and 
presides  over  the  functions  of  the  vegetable  life  (digestion  and 
respiration).  A  psychical  breath,  which  is  more  subtle  still, 
is  formed  out  of  the  Trvev^a  fyriKov  in  the  ventricles  of  the 
brain. 

As  to  whether  this  psychical  pneuma  is  the  soul  itself  or 
merely  its  highest  organ,  Galen  deliberately  abstains  from 
giving  an  opinion.  It  was  enough  for  his  purpose  that  the 
pneuma  was  the  necessary  condition  of  life,  and  that  the 
alterations  in  this  vital  breath  were  the  cause  of  the  diseases 
of  the  body,  of  disturbances  of  the  soul,  of  death  itself. 
But,  if  Galen  does  not  affirm  that  the  soul  is  material  he 
draws  attention  to  the  connection  between  our  physical 
and  moral  states.  The  faculties  of  the  soul  develop  simul- 
taneously with  the  organs  of  the  body ;  the  perfection  of 
human  thought  can  be  traced  to  a  happy  blending  of  the 
elements  which  enter  into  the  composition  of  the  brain,  and 
to  the  subtlety  of  the  pneuma  in  man.  The  divers  states  of 
the  soul  depend  on  temperament,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  propor- 
tions according  to  which  are  combined  the  corporeal  elements, 
the  principles  of  heat  and  cold,  of  dry  ness  and  humidity 
(evicpaa-la — $v(TKpa.(ria).  Assuming  that  there  is  in  the  soul  a 
higher  spiritual  part,  the  mortal  part  can  be  nothing  else  than 
this  temperament,  this  combination  of  the  organic  principles. 
Do  we  not  see  how  the  union  of  the  soul  and  body  is  severed 
by  fever  and  poisons ;  how  the  character  of  nations  is  modified 
by  differences  in  climate ;  and  madness  is  produced  by  the 
presence  of  black  bile  in  the  brain  ? 

After  the  time  of  Aristotle  two  opinions  were  current  con- 
cerning the  seat  of  the  soul :  the  Peripatetics  and  the  Stoics 
insisted  that  it  was  in  the  heart,  while  the  physicians  declared 
that  it  was  in  the  brain.  As  against  Aristotle,  Galen  cites  the 
experiments  made  on  living  animals  ;  vivisection,  he  says,  proves 
that  the  principle  of  sensation,  of  speech,  and  of  voluntary 
motion,  is  not  the  heart,  but  the  brain.  The  heart  is  only 
the  seat  of  the  passions  and  involuntary  movements ;  on  the 
other  hand,  the  principle  of  vegetable'  life  is  found  in  the  liver. 
The  spinal  marrow  serves  to  connect  the  brain  with  the  nerves 
which  are  not  directly  joined  to  it ;  when  a  section  of  the  spinal 
marrow  is  entirely  cut  off  from  the  rest,  in  the  part  of  the 


body  situated  below  that  section  sensation  and  motion  disappear. 
The  substance  of  the  nerves  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  brain, 
but  harder  and  thicker  ;  they  are  the  conductors  of  the  pneuma, 
.and  transmit  the  motor  impulses  from  the  centre  to  the 
periphery,  and  sensations  from  the  periphery  to  the  centre.  The 
nerves  have  three  functions :  through  their  connections  with 
the  organs  of  sense  they  produce  sensation  ;  being  joined  to  the 
muscles  they  produce  voluntary  motion ;  and,  finally,  they  de- 
velop in  other  organs  consciousness  of  dangerous  modifications. 

Obscurity  of  the  Neo-Platonic  Doctrine  concerning  the  Relation 
<of  Matter  to  Mind. 

Plotinus  returned  to  the  Platonic  conception  of  matter. 
Matter,  for  him,  was  not  the  body ;  it  was  without  qualities, 
was  the  indeterminate,  or  Non-being.  At  the  end  of  the  Neo- 
Platonic  procession,  the  soul,  which  is  the  third  hypostasis, 
required  something  extended  wherein  it  might  develop,  in 
•order  to  disperse  that  which  is  concentrated  in  the  world 
of  ideas.  The  soul  itself  creates  its  own  place :  Trpoievai  Se 
ei  /xe'XXot  yevvrfaei  eavry  TOTTOV,  W<TT€  KOI  <ra>ma  (Enn.  IV,  3,  9). 

Plotinus  does  not  succeed  in  explaining  how  it  is  that  matter 
can  proceed  from  the  soul,  Non-being  come  out  of  Being,  or  that 
which  is  in  no  way  spiritual,  out  of  the  spiritual.  The  pheno- 
menal world  is  the  result  of  the  union  of  the  soul  with  matter; 
but  how  is  this  union  to  be  conceived  ?  As  the  image  of  Being 
in  Non-being.  The  sensible  world  may  be  compared  to  the 
.appearance  of  an  object  reflected  in  a  mirror.  Just  as  a  face 
may  be  reproduced  in  several  mirrors  without  losing  its  unity, 
so  the  soul  and  the  intelligible  form  preserve  their  unity,  and 
remain  in  themselves  whole  and  entire,  even  when  they  seem 
to  be  divided  and  multiplied  in  sensible  things.  Matter,  like 
Non-being,  participates,  and  at  the  same  time  does  not  partici- 
pate in  Being.  In  the  same  way  the  soul  is  in  matter  and 
yet  not  in  it,  and  is  present  in  the  multitude  of  sensible  things 
without  going  out  of  itself,  or  ceasing  to  be  immutable. 

The  individual  soul,  which  is  at  first  contained  in  the  uni- 
versal soul,  yields  to  the  desire  of  acquiring  an  independent 
life  in  a  separate  body.  But  in  falling  into  this  body  it  does 
not  lose  its  purely  spiritual  nature,  but  remains  united  to  the 
world-soul  and  to  the  vovs.  How  is  a  living  whole  to  be 


228  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

formed  out  of  this  supra-sensible  Being  and  the  body  ?  The 
soul,  Plotinus  replies,  does  not  dwell  in  the  body  in  the  same 
way  as  the  body  dwells  in  space,  nor  as  a  part  in  the  whole, 
but  as  the  active  force  in  its  natural  organ,  as  fire  is  present 
in  the  air  and  penetrates  it  without  mixing  with  it.  We  must 
not  say  that  the  soul  is  in  the  body,  but  rather  that  the  body 
is  in  the  soul ;  because  it  is  the  latter  which  in  its  sphere  of 
action  contains  the  bodily  organs. 

The  Fathers  of  the  Church  and  the  Scholastics. 

The  Apologists  and  the  fathers  of  the  Church  adopted  in 
turn  the  different  theories  of  the  Greeks ;  even  the  Stoic 
Materialism  had  its  partisans  (e.g.  in  Tertullian).  On  the 
question  of  the  origin  of  the  soul  there  were  two  opposite 
doctrines :  creation  and  tradiiction.  According  to  the  former,  God 
creates  the  soul  in  a  special  act,  and  adds  it  to  the  body  ;  on  the 
latter  theory  the  soul  is  produced  by  the  parents  like  the  body 
and  in  the  same  extent.  Part  of  the  Trvev/j-a  of  the  progeni- 
tors is  transmitted  in  the  act  of  generation. 

St.  Augustine,  however,  finds  difficulties  in  both  these  theories 
and  refuses  to  make  any  assertion  on  the  subject.  His  concep- 
tion of  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  the  body  recalls  those  of  the 
Xeo-Platonists.  The  soul  is  a  simple  substance,  and  cannot  be 
conceived  as  extended.  It  is,  however,  present  all  over  the 
body,  and  it  fills  the  latter,  not  locali  diffusione  sed  vitali  inten- 
sione ;  the  soul  is  whole  and  entire  in  all  the  parts  of  the 
body  and  in  each  one  of  them,  in  singulis  tota  et  in  omnibus  tola 
(Epist.  166,  2,  4). 

According  to  these  principles,  the  whole  soul  feels  an 
impression  made  on  any  part  of  the  body  without  requiring  to* 
move  to  the  point  where  this  impression  is  produced  (De  Imm. 
An.  16,  25).  St.  Augustine  admits  indeed  that  the  union  of 
soul  and  body  cannot  be  scientifically  explained — man  is,  as  it 
were,  a  third  substance  formed  out  of  two  heterogeneous  sub- 
stances. He  does  not  hold  that  the  body  acts  on  the  soul ;  it 
is  the  soul,  he  says,  which  in  the  body  acts  on  itself.  It  is 
not  clear  how  on  this  hypothesis  he  could  adopt  Galen's  view 
of  the  nerves  and  Trvev/ma,  the  brain  and  the  heart,  as  inter- 
mediaries between  the  soul  and  the  body. 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  we  find  once  more  the  theory  of  matter 


THE  EELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       229 

and  form :  the  traditions  of  Greek  philosophy  had  not  been 
broken.  Aristotle  did  not  explain  how  form,  which  is 
universal,  can,  out  of  matter  that  is  completely  indeterminate, 
make  an  individual  being.  The  Scholastic  Peripatetics,  Albertus 
Magnus,  and  Thomas  Aquinas,  imagine  they  avoid  this  pre- 
dicament by  making  matter  itself  the  principle  of  individua- 
tion.  Principium  diversitat'is  individuorum  ejusdem  speciei  est 
divisio  materiae  secundum  quantitatem  (De  Princip.  Individ,  Fol. 
597).  But,  if  the  individuality  of  man  depends  on  the  division 
of  matter,  on  the  distribution  of  its  elements  in  space,  and  if 
the  soul  in  itself  is  an  immaterial  form,  would  it  not  follow 
that  the  individuality  of  the  human  soul  must  be  denied  ? 

Duns  Scotus,  the  antagonist  of  St.  Thomas,  denied  that  form 
was  identical  with  the  universal,  and  that  matter  was  the 
principle  of  individuation.  The  individual,  he  said,  is  the 
ultima  realitas  (In  2™  Sent.  D.  3,  9,  6).  Individual  existence 
is  not  a  decadence  but  a  perfection,  for  it  presupposes  the 
addition  of  positive  determinations  to  the  universal,  and  the 
general  essence  (quidditas)  is  completed  by  the  individual 
nature  (haecceitas).  Furthermore,  everything  that  is  not  God, 
even  created  spirits,  consists  of  matter  and  form  (De  Her.  Princ. 
9,  7).  The  matter  which  implies  the  existence  of  the  human 
soul  and  of  angels,  is  quite  different  from  corporeal  matter,  by 
which  is  to  be  understood  the  matter  immediately  created  by 
God,  the  universal  basis  of  all  finite  existence,  what  Duns 
Scotus  calls  matter  primo  prima  (Ibid.  9,  8). 

Ockam,  wrho  at  the  beginning  of  the  14th  century  brought 
Nominalism  once  more  into  favour,  refused  to  accept  the  theory 
that  the  vegetable  and  sensitive  souls  (forma  corporis,  anima 
sensitiva)  were  identical  with  the  thinking  soul,  the  anima 
intellectiva.  The  sensitive  soul  was  extended  and  joined,  so  to 
speak,  in  a  corporeal  manner  to  the  body,  all  parts  of  which  it 
fills  (circumscriptive).  The  thinking  soul  is  another  soul,  a 
separable  substance,  which  is  united  to  the  body  in  such  a  way 
that  it  exists  whole  and  entire  (definitive)  in  each  of  its  parts. 

"...  Galen's  theory  of  the  psychial  and  animal  spiritus  in  con- 
nection with  the  doctrine  of  the  four  humours  and  the  temperaments 
was,  very  early  in  the  middle  ages,  fused  with  the  Aristotelian 
psychology.  According  to  this  doctrine,  which  may  be  found  at  full 
length  even  in  Melanchthon's  psychology,  the  four  fundamental  humours 


230 

are  prepared  in  the  liver  (the  second  organic  process,  after  the  first  has  takeir 
place  in  the  stomach)  ;  out  of  the  noblest  humour,  the  blood,  the  spiritvs 
vitalis  is  prepared  by  a  new  process  in  the  heart  ;  and  this  is  finally  (the 
fourth  and  last  process)  in  the  cavities  of  the  brain  refined  into  the 
spiritus  animalis.  This  theory  probably  owed  the  deep  hold  which  it 
obtained  chiefly  to  the  fact  that  it  seemed  to  superficial  thought  a  suffi- 
cient bridging  over  of  the  gulf  between  the  sensible  and  the  super- 
sensible "  (Lange's  Hist,  of  Materialism,  Eng.  trans.,  Vol.  I,  p.  337). 

Here  are  Melanchthon's  own  words  : 

"  Galen  says  of  the  human  soul  :  '  These  spirits  are  either  the  soul  or  an 
immediate  instrument  of  the  soul.'  This  is  certainly  true  ;  and  their 
brightness  surpasses  the  brightness  of  the  sun  and  of  all  the  stars. 
What  is  most  wonderful  is  that  in  godly  men  the  divine  Spirit  itself 
mingles  with  these  same  spirits,  and  with  His  divine  light  makes  them 
still  more  bright,  so  that  their  knowledge  of  God  may  be  yet  more 
luminous,  their  attachment  to  Him  more  solid,  and  their  aspirations 
towards  Him  more  ardent.  But  if  devils  dwell  in  the  heart,  they  blow 
upon  the  spirits,  and  bringing  the  heart  and  the  brain  into  confusion, 
interfere  with  judgment,  give  rise  to  open  madness,  and  induce  the  heart 
and  other  members  to  commit  the  most  cruel  acts"  (Melanchtkon,  quoted 
by  Lange). 

By  the  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  which  we 
owe  to  the  genius  of  Harvey,  the  old  physiology  was  entirely 
overturned.  The  theory  of  the  Trvev/ma  had  been,  as  it  were,  its 
keystone,  and  this  explains  the  opposition  which  was  brought 
to  bear  on  the  new  discovery.  Descartes,  enlightened  by 
anatomical  observations  of  his  own,  adopted  the  theories  of 
Charles  the  First's  physician,  and  invented  a  physiological 
theory  which  was  entirely  mechanical,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
preserved  something  of  the  doctrine  of  Galen.  His  doctrine  of 
animal  spirits  may  be  regarded  as  the  form  in  which  the  old 
theory  of  the  Trvev/ma,  which  dated  from  the  earliest  Greek 
physicians,  appeared  for  the  last  time.  The  blood  flow's  in  the 
arteries  as  well  as  in  the  veins,  but  the  more  subtle  parts  of 
the  blood  which  are  elaborated  in  the  heart  ascend  continually 
towards  the  brain,  and  serve  to  explain  the  reciprocal  action  of 
body  and  stnil. 

Descartes :  Antithesis  between  Extension  and  Thought ;  Union 
and  Reciprocal  Action  of  Body  and  Soul. 

For  Descartes  the  essence  of  matter  is  extension,  because 
extension  is  the  only  thing  in  body  of  which  we  have  a  clear 


THE  EELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       231 

and  distinct  idea,  and  without  which  we  are  unable  to  conceive 
it  (Princ.  II,  4).  The  living  body  is  a  marvellous  machine, 
and  animals  are  automata,  without  feeling  or  will.  Descartes 
was  a  determined  opponent  of  animism. 

"Men  have  thought  without  any  reason  that  our  natural  heat  and 
all  the  movements  of  our  body  depend  on  the  soul.  The  body  of  a 
living  man  is  as  different  from  that  of  one  who  is  dead  as  a  watch  or 
any  other  automaton  (that  is  to  say,  any  other-  machine  that  moves  of 
itself)  when  it  is  wound  up  and  has  within  itself  the  material  principles 
of  the  movements  for  which  it  has  been  made  and  is  provided 
with  everything  necessary  for  its  action,  and  the  same  watch  or  other 
machine  when  it  is  broken  and  the  principle  of  its  motion  has  ceased 
to  act "  (Pass.  a.  5  and  6). 

Thus  the  body  is  something  finished,  a  complete  thing,  an 
automatic  machine,  the  springs  of  which  require  no  impulse 
from  without.  As  a  body,  man  is  an  automaton  like  any 
other  animal,  and,  so  far,  everything  in  the  universe  can  be 
explained  mechanically.  But  in  man  there  appears  some- 
thing entirely  new,  namely,  thought.  Body  and  thought 
have  nothing  in  common,  how  then  are  we  to  conceive  the 
union  and  the  relations  of  these  two  heterogeneous  substances  ? 

Descartes  does  not  attempt  to  explain  the  union  of  soul 
and  body  by  any  metaphysical  hypothesis :  he  merely  accepts 
it,  and  states  it  as  a  fact.  Our  notion  of  thought  is  rendered 
clear  through  metaphysics  and  that  of  the  extended  through 
mathematics ;  but  "  in  order  to  know  what  the  union  of  the 
soul  and  body  is,  one  must  live  and  refrain  from  speculation  "" 
(Letter  to  Princess  Elizabeth,  Cousin's  Ed.  Vol.  IX,  pp.  123-129). 

"That  the  mind,  which  is  incorporeal,  is  able  to  move  the  body,  we 
know  neither  by  reasoning  nor  by  any  comparison  with  other  things  ; 
nevertheless,  we  cannot  doubt  it,  since  we  are  too  clearly  informed  of 
it  by  experiences  which  are  too  certain  and  too  evident.  And  we  must 
keep  in  mind  that  this  is  one  of  the  things  that  are  known  by  them- 
selves, and  that  we  render  these  more  obscure  whenever  we  try  to 
explain  them  by  other  things  "  (Ibid.  IX,  161). 

The  union  of  soul  and  body  is  then  sui  generis ;  in  order  to 
understand  it  we  must  proceed  neither  from  the  notion  of 
extension  nor  from  that  of  thought,  but  from  life  itself,  and 
from  the  notions  which  correspond  to  this  union  (such  as 
hunger,  thirst,  pain,  etc.).  This  union  is  of  the  closest  kind. 
Descartes  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  body  is  substantially 


232  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

{substantiellement}  united  to  the  soul  (Response  au  quatri&me 
objection}.  The  mind  is  distinct  from  the  body,  just  as  the 
arm  is  distinct  from  the  whole  body ;  that  is  to  say,  although 
strictly  speaking  it  can  be  separated  from  the  body,  it  forms 
part  of  the  whole. 

"I  had  after  this  described  the  reasonable  soul,  and  shown  that  it 
could  by  no  means  be  educed  from  the  power  of  matter  .  .  .  but 
that  it  must  be  expressly  created  ;  and  that  it  is  not  sufficient  that  it 
be  lodged  in  the  human  body  exactly  like  a  pilot  in  a  ship,  unless 
perhaps  to  move  its  members,  but  that  it  is  necessary  for  it  to  be  joined 
and  united  more  closely  to  the  body,  in  order  to  have  sensations  and 
appetites  similar  to  ours,  and  thus  constitute  a  real  man "  (Discourse  on 
Method,  Part  V,  translated  by  Veitch).  "  Nature,  likewise,  teaches  us  by 
these  sensations  of  pain,  hunger,  thirst,  etc.,  that  I  am  not  only  lodged 
in  my  body  as  a  pilot  in  a  vessel,  but  that  I  am  besides  so  intimately 
conjoined,  and,  as  it  were,  intermixed  with  it  that  my  mind  and  body 
compose  a  certain  unity.  For  if  this  were  not  the  case,  I  should  not 
feel  pain  when  my  body  is  hurt,  seeing  I  am  merely  a  thinking  thing, 
but  should  perceive  the  wound  by  the  understanding  alone,  just  as  a 
pilot  perceives  by  sight  when  any  part  of  his  vessel  is  damaged" 
(Meditation,  VI). 

This  being  the  manner  in  which  soul  and  body  are  united, 
how  does  the  reciprocal  action  between  them  take  place  ? 
The  soul  is  joined  to  the  whole  of  the  body,  but  has  its 
principal  seat  and  performs  its  functions  more  particularly  in 
the  small  pineal  gland,  towards  which  the  animal  spirits 
unceasingly  ascend. 

"  This  small  gland,  which  is  the  principal  seat  of  the  soul,  is  suspended 
between  the  cavities  containing  these  spirits,  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
can  be  moved  by  them  in  as  many  different  ways  as  there  are  sensible 
differences  in  objects ;  and  at  the  same  time  it  can  be  moved  in 
divers  ways  by  the  soul,  which  is  of  such  a  nature  tha't  it  receives  as 
many  different  impressions  within  itself,  or,  in  other  words,  has  as  many 
different  perceptions,  as  there  are  different  movements  of  the  gland  ; 
and  conversely,  the  bodily  machine  being  so  constituted  that,  by  the 
very  fact  of  this  gland  being  moved  in  divers  ways  by  the  soul  or  by 
any  other  cause,  it  impels  the  surrounding  spirits  towards  the  pores  of 
the  brain,  through  which  they  are  conducted  by  the  nerves  into  the 
muscles,  by  means  of  which  the  soul  causes  them  to  move  our  limbs" 
(Pass.  a.  54). 

Thus  Descartes  holds  that  the  soul  can  act  directly  on  the 
body.  No  doubt  the  soul  cannot  increase  or  diminish  the 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       233 

quantity  of  motion  in  the  body,  since  this  quantity  is  constant, 
but  it  can  by  its  will  alone  change  the  direction  of  the 
motion  of  the  animal  spirits  and  modify  their  course.  Descartes 
is,  however,  in  spite  of  himself,  brought  by  his  own  dualism 
near  to  the  doctrine  of  occasional  causes  and  of  pre-established 
harmony.  Why  has  the  soul  as  many  different  perceptions  as 
there  are  different  movements  in  the  pineal  gland  ? 

Because  these  movements  are  given  by  nature  for  the  purpose  of 
making  the  soul  feel  them,  because  they  give  it  the  occasion  to  feel 
(Dioptrique,  Vol.  V,  pp.  54-100).  "The  spirits,  merely  by  entering  the 
pores,  excite  a  particular  movement  in  the  gland,  which  is  instituted  by 
nature,  that  the  soul  may  feel  this  passion  "  (Pass.  a.  36). 

Similarly,  in  his  explanation  of  this  action  of  the  soul  on 
the  body,  Descartes  is  led  to  a  kind  of  Occasionalism  ;  it  is 
always  by  acting  on  itself  and  on  its  own  ideas  that  the  soul 
acts  on  the  body. 

"  The  passions  cannot  be  directly  excited  or  removed  by  the  action  of 
our  will  ;  but  they  can  indirectly,  through  the  representation  of  those 
things  which  are  usually  joined  with  the  passions  we  wish  to  have  and 
which  are  contrary  to  those  we  wish  to  reject "  (Pass.  a.  45).  "  Although 
each  movement  of  the  gland  appears  to  have  been  joined  by  nature  to  each 
one  of  our  thoughts  since  the  beginning  of  our  life,  it  is  nevertheless 
possible,  through  habit,  to  join  them  to  other  thoughts"  (a.  50).  "And  such 
is  the  connection  between  soul  and  body  that  when  we  have  once  joined 
a  certain  bodily  act  to  a  certain  thought,  the  one  will  in  future  never 
occur  without  the  other  "  (a.  136). 

Malebranche :  Intercommunication  of  Matter  and  Mind ; 
Theory  of  Occasional  Cannes. 

On  the  question  of  the  union  of  the  soul  and  the  body, 
Malebranche  separates  himself  from  Descartes.  He  denies  any 
direct  and  reciprocal  action  between  the  two  substances,  and 
will  admit  only  a  correspondence  between  their  phenomena. 
This  theory  of  the  union  of  the  soul  and  the  body  is,  however, 
a  corollary  of  his  general  theory  of  the  intercommunication  of 
substances,  and  is  only  comprehensible  through  it.  If,  he  says, 
we  were  to  accept  the  existence  in  nature  of  real  powers,  if  we 
were  to  believe  that  the  sun  endows  all  things  with  movement 
and  life,  we  should  have  to  return  to  paganism,  and  we  should 
have  to  adore  these  beneficent  or  terrible  forces  (Rcch.  de  la  V6r. 
VI,  2nd  Part,  c.  iii). 


234  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

"  There  is  only  one  true  cause,  because  there  is  only  one  true  God.  The 
nature  or  force  of  each  thing  is  merely  the  will  of  God  ;  natural  causes 
are  not  real  causes,  but  only  occasional  causes  which  determine  the 
Author  of  nature  to  act  in  such  or  such  a  way,  at  such  or  such  a 
conjunction"  (Ibid.). 

It  is  not  the  sun  that  makes  the  plants  grow,  but  God,  Who, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  sun's  radiance,  of  which  He  is  the 
principle,  determines  according  to  universal  laws  all  the 
movements  that  have  for  their  effect  the  growth  of  plants. 

A  general  proof  of  the  impotency  of  created  things  may  he 
given  : 

"There  is  a  contradiction  in  the  statement  that  one  body  can  move 
another,  nay,  further,  it  is  contradictory  to  say  that  you  can  move  your 
own  chair  ;  nor  is  this  all,  it  is  contradictory  to  say  that  all  the  angels 
and  devils  together  could  stir  a  piece  of  straw.  The  proof  of  this  is  clear, 
for  no  power,  however  great  we  may  imagine  it  to  be,  can  surpass  or  even 
equal  the  power  of  God.  Now  it  would  be  a  contradiction  if  God  were  to 
will  that  a  thing  should  be,  without  wishing  it  to  exist  in  some  place,  and 
without,  through  the  efficaciousness  of  His  will,  putting  it  in  that  place, 
i.e.  without  creating  it  there ;  therefore,  no  power  can  transport  this  chair 
to  any  place  if  God  does  not  carry  it  there,  nor  set  and  fix  it  there  where 
God  does  not  fix  it,  unless  God  suits  the  efficaciousness  of  His  actions  to 
the  inefficacious  action  of  His  creatures"  (~e  Entr.  met.  §  10).  "There  is 
nothing  more  easily  moved  than  a  sphere  on  a  plane,  but  not  all  the  forces 
imaginable  can  set  it  in  motion  unless  God  intervenes.  For,  once  more, 
as  long  as  God  wills  to  create  and  keep  this  ball  at  a  point  A,  or  any 
other  point  you  please — and  it  is  a  necessity  for  Him  to  put  it  in  some 
place — no  force  can  move  it  from  that  place.  .  .  .  The  moving  force  of  a 
body  is  therefore  merely  the  efficacy  of  the  Will  of  God  "  (~e  Ent.  met.  §  11). 

These  general  laws  apply  to  all  created  things.  If  you 
analyse  the  notion  of  extension,  you  will  not  find  in  it  the  idea 
of  a  moving  force.  When  a  moving  ball  comes  in  contact  with 
another  ball  and  sets  it  in  motion,  it  is  God,  Who  on  the 
occasion  of  the  motion  of  the  first  ball,  produces  motion  in  the 
second.  The  noblest  minds  are  in  a  similar  state  of  impotence. 
They  can  know  nothing,  if  God  does  not  enlighten  them;  they 
can  feel  nothing,  if  God  does  not  cause  them  to  be  affected. 
They  are  incapable  of  willing  anything,  if  God  does  not  move 
them  towards  the  good  in  general,  that  is  to  say,  towards 
Himself.  A  fortiori,  mind  and  body,  being  heterogeneous 
substances,  cannot  act  on  one  another. 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       235 

"  The  body  of  itself  cannot  be  united  to  mind,  nor  mind  to  body  ;  there  is 
no  connection  between  them  "  (Morale,  Part  I,  Ch.  10).  "  It  is  evident  that 
a  body,  that  what  is  extended  and  a  purely  passive  substance,  cannot  by 
its  own  efficacy  act  on  a  mind,  that  is,  on  a  being  that  is  of  a  different  and 
infinitely  higher  nature  than  itself  "  (4"  Entr.  met.  §  1 1).  "  By  yourself  you 
are  not  able  to  move  your  arm,  to  change  your  situation,  position,  posture, 
or  to  cause  the  slightest  change  in  the  universe"  (7*  Entr.  met.  §  13). 

How  then  can  we  explain  the  connection  between  the  soul 
and  the  body,  which  experience  reveals  to  us  at  every  instant  ? 
Only  one  hypothesis  is  left  to  us,  that  of  Occasional  Causes. 
On  the  occurrence  of  a  particular  movement  of  the  body  God 
is  prompted  to  produce  a  certain  movement  in  the  soul,  and, 
conversely,  a  particular  sensation  or  a  particular  thought  will 
prompt  God  to  produce  in  the  body  a  certain  movement;  so 
that  God  does  everything,  is  the  sole  active  force. 

"  Since,  as  you  see  clearly,  there  can  be  no  necessary  relation  or 
connection  between  the  modifications  in  the  brain  and  certain  feelings  of 
the  soul,  it  is  evident  that  we  must  fall  back  upon  a  power  that  is  not  to 
be  found  in  either  of  these  two  "  (4e  Entr.  met.  §  8).  "  Thus  it  is  clear  that 
the  union  of  the  soul  and  the  body  consists  of  no  other  bond  than  the 
efficacy  of  the  divine  decrees,  decrees  which  are  immutable  and  which 
never  fail  in  their  effect"  (Ibid.  §  11).  "God  alone  can  move  the  animal 
spirits.  He  alone  is  able,  and  knows  how  to  make  them  flow  from  the 
brain  into  the  nerves  and  from  the  nerves  into  the  muscles,  all  of  which 
things  are  required  to  move  the  limbs.  .  .  .  God  has  willed  that  I  should 
have  certain  feelings,  certain  emotions,  when  there  were  in  my  brain 
certain  traces,  certain  disturbances  of  the  animal  spirits.  In  a  word,  He 
has  willed  and  unceasingly  wills  that  the  modes  of  the  mind  and  of  the 
body  should  be  reciprocal.  Herein  consists  the  union  and  the  natural 
interdependence  of  the  two  parts  of  which  we  are  composed"  (7e  Entr. 
m<%.  §13). 

Spinoza :  the  Unity  of  Substance  explains  the  Parallel 
Development  of  Extension  and  Thought. 

The  Cartesian  dualism  had  made  it  very  difficult  to  under- 
stand the  substantial  union  and  the  reciprocal  action  of  the 
soul  and  the  body.  Spinoza,  like  Malebranche,  separated 
himself  from  Descartes. 

"  What  does  he  understand,  T  ask,  by  the  union  of  the  mind  and 
body  ?  What  clear  and  distinct  conception  has  he  of  thought  inti- 
mately connected  with  a  small  portion  of  matter?  I  wish  that  he 
had  explained  the  union  by  its  proximate  cause.  But  he  conceived 


236  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  mind  to  be  so  distinct  from  the  body  that  he  was  able  to  assign 
no  single  cause  of  this  union  nor  of  the  mind  itself,  but  was  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  the  cause  of  the  whole  universe,  that  is  to  say,  to  God. 
Again,  I  should  like  to  know  how  many  degrees  of  motion  the  mind  can 
give  to  that  pineal  gland,  and  with  how  great  a  power  the  mind  can  hold  it 
suspended.  .  .  .  Indeed,  since  there  is  no  relation  between  the  will  and 
motion,  so  there  is  no  comparison  between  the  power  or  strength  of  the 
body  and  that  of  the  mind,  and  consequently  the  strength  of  the  body 
can  never  be  determined  by  the  strength  of  the  mind"  (Ethic,  5th  Part, 
Preface). 

By  tracing  to  God  and  to  the  efficacy  of  His  will  everything 
that  js  real  in  the  union  of  the  soul  and  body,  Malebranche 
had  reduced  this  union  to  a  mere  appearance ;  but,  like 
Descartes,  he  admitted  the  existence  of  no  other  soul  besides 
the  human  soul.  Spinoza,  on  the  other  hand,  had  not  only  to 
explain  the  union  of  extension  and  thought  in  man,  but  also 
the  union  of  the  Divine  thought  and  extension  in  all  that  is. 
Since  in  his  system  there  is  only  one  single  substance,  there 
must  be  a  correspondence  between  all  the  attributes  of  this 
substance,  which  are  the  divers  expressions  of  one  and  the 
same  existence.  Therefore,  to  each  mode  of  the  divine  exten- 
sion there  must  correspond  a  mode  of  the  divine  thought ; 
the  order  and  connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  as  the  order  and 
connection  of  things  (Eth.  II,  Prop.  VII.). 

".  .  .  Substance  thinking  and  substance  extended  are  one  and  the  same 
substance,  which  is  now  comprehended  under  this  attribute,  and  now 
under  that.  Thus  also,  a  mode  of  extension  and  the  idea  of  that  mode 
are  one  and  the  same  thing  expressed  in  two  different  ways.  .  .  .  For 
example,  a  circle  existing  in  nature  and  the  idea  that  is  in  God  of  an 
existing  circle  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  which  are  explained  by 
different  attributes ;  and,  therefore,  whether  we  think  of  nature  under 
the  attribute  of  extension,  or  under  the  attribute  of  thought,  or  under 
any  attribute  whatever,  we  shall  discover  one  and  the  same  order,  or  one 
and  the  same  connection  of  causes  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  every  case  the  same 
sequence  of  things"  (Ibid.  note). 

It  is,  therefore,  not  only  in  the  case  of  man  that  the 
problem  of  the  relation  of  extension  to  thought  arises.  All 
bodies  are  modes  of  extension ;  each  mode  of  extension  corre- 
sponds so  closely  to  a  mode  of  thought  that  the  two  are  in 
fact  one  and  the  same  thing ;  therefore  all  bodies  have  life. 

".  .  .  For  those  things  which  we  have  proved  hitherto  are  altogether 
general,  nor  do  they  refer  more  to  man  than  to  other  individuals,  all  of 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       237 

which  are  animate,  although  in  different  degrees.  For  of  everything  there 
necessarily  exists  in  God  an  idea  of  which  He  is  the  cause  in  the  same 
way  as  the  idea  of  the  human  body  exists  in  Him.  .  .  .  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, deny  that  ideas,  like  objects  themselves,  differ  from  one  another, 
and  that  one  is  more  excellent  and  contains  more  reality  than  another, 
just  as  the  object  of  one  idea  is  more  excellent  and  contains  more  reality 
than  another  ...  in  proportion  as  one  body  is  better  adapted  than 
another  to  do  and  to  suffer  many  things,  in  the  same  proportion  will  the 
mind  at  the  same  time  be  better  adapted  to  perceive  many  things" 
(Ibid.  Prop.  XIII,  note). 

Just  as  the  universal  life  is  a  development  which  is 
parallel  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  identical  with  that  of  the  divine 
attributes,  so  is  human  life  a  development  of  the  modes  of 
extension  which  constitute  the  human  body,  parallel  to  the 
development  of  the  modes  of  thought,  which  correspond  to  these 
modes  of  extension.  Being,  in  fact,  identical  in  substance,  the 
mind  and  body  must  correspond  throughout  the  course  of  life. 
There  is  no  direct  or  reciprocal  action  between  them ;  the 
mind  develops  in  a  sequence  of  thoughts  without  the  co- 
operation of  the  body.  "  The  soul  is  a  spiritual  automaton." 
The  body  develops  in  a  sequence  of  movements  without  the 
co-operation  of  the  mind  ;  the  body  of  the  artist  paints  pictures 
and  his  mind  has  no  part  in  the  act  (Etli.  Ill,  Prop.  II,  note). 
But  between  the  two  sequences  there  is  a  parallelism,  a  neces- 
sary harmony.  The  mind  expresses  by  inadequate  and  confused 
thoughts  all  that  takes  place  in  its  body,  and  is  through  its 
body  related  to  the  whole  of  the  extended  universe.  We  shall 
find  the  same  conception  in  Leibnitz,  who  owed  a  great  deal 
to  Spinoza. 

"...  The  mind  and  the  body  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  conceived 
at  one  time  under  the  attribute  of  thought,  and  at  another  under  that  of 
extension.  For  this  reason  the  order  and  concatenation  of  things  is  one 
whether  nature  be  conceived  under  this  or  that  attribute,  and  conse- 
quently the  order  of  the  actions  and  passions  of  our  body  is  coincident 
in  nature  with  the  order  of  the  actions  and  passions  of  the  mind.  .  .  . 
Although  these  things  are  so,  and  no  ground  for  doubting  remains,  I 
scarcely  believe,  nevertheless,  that,  without  a  proof  derived  from  experi- 
ence, men  will  be  induced  calmly  to  weigh  what  has  been  said,  so  firmly 
are  they  persuaded  that  solely  at  the  bidding  of  the  mind  the  body  moves 
or  rests,  and  does  a  number  of  things  which  depend  upon  the  will  of  the 
mind  alone  and  upon  the  power  of  thought.  For  what  the  body  can  do 
no  one  has  hitherto  determined,  that  is  to  say,  experience  has  taught  u» 


238 

hitherto  what  the  body,  without  being  determined  by  the  mind,  can  do 
and  what  it  cannot  do  from  the  laws  of  nature  alone,  in  so  far  as  nature 
is  considered  merely  as  corporeal  .  .  .  not  to  mention  the  fact  that  many 
things  are  observed  in  brutes  which  far  surpass  human  sagacity,  and  that 
sleep-walkers  in  their  sleep  do  very  many  things  which  they  dare  not  do 
when  awake  ;  all  this  showing  that  the  body  itself  can  do  many  things 
from  the  laws  of  its  own  nature  alone,  at  which  the  mind  belonging  to 
that  body  is  amazed"  (Ibid.}. 

In  short,  there  is,  according  to  Spinoza,  no  connection 
between  extension  and  thought,  but  there  is  a  constant 
parallelism  in  the  development  of  these  two  divine  attributes, 
whose  harmony  is  due  to  the  unity  of  the  substance  which 
they  reveal. 

Leibnitz  :   Theory  of  Pre-established  Harmony. 

In  his  New  System  of  the  Nature  of  Substances,  and  of  the 
Communication  between  them,  Leibnitz  tells  us  that  it  was  the 
problem  of  the  union  of  the  soul  and  body  that  led  him  to 
consider  the  general  problem  of  the  intercommunication  of 
substances. 

"  Having  settled  these  things,  I  thought  I  had  gained  my  haven,  but 
when  I  set  myself  to  meditate  upon  the  union  of  soul  and  body  I  was,  as 
it  were,  driven  back  into  the  deep  sea.  For  I  found  no  way  of  explaining 
how  the  body  transmits  anything  to  the  soul  or  vice  versa,  nor  how  one 
substance  can  communicate  with  another  created  substance  "  (New  System, 
Latta's  trans,  p.  311). 

In  accordance  with  his  usual  progressive  method,  Leibnitz 
gives  a  solution  of  this  problem,  by  which  we  are  led  ever 
further  from  the  external  to  the  internal,  from  the  compound 
to  the  simple,  from  appearance  to  being.  Starting  from 
Descartes'  hypothesis  of  two  heterogeneous  substances,  how  are 
we  to  conceive  their  union  and  the  relations  between  them  ? 

"  Suppose  two  clocks  or  two  watches  which  perfectly  keep  time  together 
(s? accordant).  Now  that  may  happen  in  three  ways.  The  first  way 
consists  in  the  mutual  influence  of  each  clock  upon  the  other  ;  the  second, 
in  the  care  of  a  man  who  looks  after  them  ;  the  third,  in  their  own 
accuracy.  .  .  .  Now  put  the  soul  and  the  body  in  place  of  the  two  clocks. 
Their  agreement  (accord)  or  sympathy  will  also  arise  in  one  of  these  three 
ways.  The  way  of  influence  is  that  of  the  common  philosophy,  but  as  we 
cannot  conceive  material  particles  or  immaterial  species  or  qualities 
which  can  pass  from  one  of  these  substances  into  the  other,  we  are  obliged 


THE  EELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       239 

to  give  up  this  opinion.  The  way  of  assistance  is  that  of  the  system  of 
occasional  causes  ;  but  I  hold  that  this  is  to  introduce  Deus  ex  machina  in 
a  natural  and  ordinary  matter,  in  which  it  is  reasonable  that  God  should 
intervene  only  in  the  way  in  which  He  supports  (concourt  a)  all  the  other' 
things  of  nature.  Thus  there  remains  only  my  hypothesis,  that  is  to  say, 
the  way  of  the  harmony  pre-established  by  a  contrivance  of  the  Divine 
foresight,  which  has  from  the  beginning  formed  each  of  these  substances 
in  so  perfect,  so  regular,  and  accurate  a  manner  that  by  merely  following 
its  own  laws  which  were  given  to  it  when  it  came  into  being,  each 
substance  is  yet  in  harmony  with  the  other,  just  as  if  there  were  a  mutual 
influence-between  them,  or  as  if  God  were  continually  putting  His  hand 
upon  them,  in  addition  to  His  general  support  (concurrence)"  (Ibid. 
p.  332). 

Thus  the  soul  and  the  body,  regarded  from  this  first  point 
of  view,  are  like  two  clocks,  which,  without  acting  one  on  the 
other,  always  point  to  the  same  hour  and  strike  at  the  same 
time. 

But  this  is  only  an  external  and  superficial  point  of  view, 
for  it  is  in  the  nature  and  universal  laws  of  Being  that  we 
must  look  for  the  reason  of  appearances.  Pre-established 
harmony  was  for  Leibnitz  not  only  a  theory  of  the  union  of 
soul  and  body ;  one  might  almost  say  that  it  contained  his 
whole  philosophy.  As  they  are  simple,  substances  cannot  act 
on  one  another  from  without.  "  The  monads  have  no  windows 
through  which  anything  could  come  in  or  go  out "  (Monad. 
§  7).  On  this  hypothesis,  which  seems  to  break  up  being 
into  an  infinity  of  isolated  individuals,  how  is  the  unity  of 
the  world  as  it  appears  to  us,  and  the  harmony  between  the 
phenomena  which  constitute  it,  to  be  explained  ? 

"  It  is  thus — that  God  at  first  so  created  the  soul,  or  any  other  real  unity, 
that  everything  must  arise  in  it  from  its  own  inner  nature  (fonds)  with  a 
perfect  spontaneity  as  regards  itself,  and  yet  with  a  perfect  conformity  to 
things  outside  of  it.  ...  And  accordingly,  since  each  of  these  substances 
accurately  represents  the  whole  universe  in  its  own  way  and  from  a 
certain  point  of  view,  and  the  perceptions  or  expressions  of  external 
things  come  into  the  soul  at  their  appropriate  time,  in  virtue  of  its  own 
laws,  as  in  a  world  by  itself,  and  as  if  there  existed  nothing  but  God  and 
the  soul  (to  adopt  the  phrase  of  a  certain  person  of  high  intellectual 
power,  renowned  for  his  piety),  there  will  be  a  perfect  agreement  between 
all  these  substances,  which  will  have  the  same  result  as  would  be  observed 
if  they  had  communication  with  one  another  by  a  transmission  of  species 
or  of  qualities,  such  as  the  mass  of  ordinary  philosophers  suppose  "  (New 
System).  The  true  relation  between  them  is  an  ideal  influence  which 


240  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

resembles  in  its  effects  a  real  influence,  but  is  altogether  internal.  Thus 
each  monad  has  within  itself  the  principle  of  all  its  own  development. 
Its  perceptions  come  to  it  from  itself  alone,  and  the  monad  for  Leibnitz, 
as  for  Spinoza,  is  a  "  spiritual  automaton  "  (New  System)  ;  but  there  is 
at  the  same  time  a  pre-established  harmony  between  its  acts  and  the  acts 
of  all  the  other  monads,  and,  in  this  way,  the  monad  is  "  a  perpetual 
living  mirror  of  the  universe"  (Monad.  §  56). 

It  is  in  these  general  laws  that  the  explanation  of  the  imion 
of  soul  and  body  is  to  be  found. 

"  Thus,  although  each  created  monad  represents  the  whole  universe, 
it  represents  more  distinctly  the  t»ody  which  specially  pertains  to  it,  and 
of  which  it  is  the  entelechy  "  (Ibid.  §  62).  "  These  principles  have  given 
me  a  way  of  explaining  naturally  the  union  or  rather  the  mutual  agree- 
ment (conformite)  of  the  soul  and  the  organic  body.  The  soul  follows  its 
own  laws,  and  the  body  likewise  follows  its  own  laws  ;  and  they  agree 
with  each  other  in  virtue  of  the  pre-established  harmony  between  all  sub- 
stances, since  they  are  all  representations  of  one  and  the  same  universe  " 
(S  78). 

When  Leibnitz  says  that  the  soul  is  united  more  especially 
to  a  particular  body,  he  means  that  God,  in  ordering  the 
sequence  of  the  acts  of  the  monad  which  constitutes  the  body, 
has  had  regard  to  the  soul,  and  vice  versa.  In  the  same  way, 
in  order  rightly  to  understand  the  reciprocal  action  between 
the  soul  and  the  body,  we  must  bear  in  mind  what  Leibnitz 
really  means  by  acting  and  suffering. 

"  A  created  thing  is  said  to  act  outwardly  in  so  far  as  it  has  perfection, 
and  to  suffer  (or  be  passive,  patir)  in  relation  to  another,  in  so  far  as  it  is 
imperfect.  Thus  activity  (action)  is  attributed  to  a  monad  in  so  far  as  it 
has  distinct  perceptions,  and  passivity  (passion)  in  so  far  as  its  percep- 
tions are  confused.  And  one  created  thing  is  more  perfect  than  another 
in  this,  that  there  is  found  in  the  more  perfect  that  which  serves  to 
explain  a  pinori  what  takes  place  in  the  less  perfect,  and  it  is  on  this 
account  that  the  former  is  said  to  act  upon  the  latter.  But  in  simple  sub- 
stances the  influence  of  one  monad  upon  another  is  only  ideal,  and  it  can 
have  its  effect  only  through  the  mediation  of  God,  in  so  far  as  in  the 
ideas  of  God  any  monad  rightly  claims  that  God  in  regulating  the  others 
from  the  beginning  of  things  should  have  regard  to  it"  (Monad.  §§  49, 
50,  51). 

The  interaction  between  the  soul  and  the  body  is  thus,  like 
their  union,  entirely  ideal.  The  body  is  impelled  to  carry  out 
the  commands  of  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  the  latter  has  distinct  per- 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       241 

ceptions,  and  the  soul  submits  to  be  moved  by  the  passions 
which  arise  out  of  bodily  representations.  In  a  word,  the  soul 
is  a  higher  kind  of  monad,  and  the  entelechy  of  the  body.  It 
is  in  this  sense  that  in  the  soul  is  found  the  reason  of  the  acts 
of  the  numberless  monads  which  constitute  the  body,  and  of  the 
harmony  between  them ;  again,  the  soul  acts  on  the  body,  in 
so  far  as  in  the  soul  is  found  the  reason  of  what  takes  place 
in  the  monads,  which  she  ideally  binds  together.  The  body 
acts  on  the  soul,  in  so  far  as  in  the  body  a  reason  for  the 
modifications  of  the  soul  is  found. 

Conclusion  :  Since  the  Cartesian  attempts  Philosophers  have 
endeavoured  to  avoid  the  Difficulty. 

It  may  be  said  that,  since  the  attempts  made  by  the  Car- 
tesian school,  philosophers  have  endeavoured  to  avoid  rather 
than  to  solve  the  problem  of  the  union  of  the  soul  and  the 
body,  as  well  as  the  more  general  problem  of  the  intercom- 
munication of  substances.  The  doctrine  of  physical  influx, 
which  is  sometimes  attributed  to  Euler,  but  was  really  the 
traditional  theory  of  the  Schools,  offers  no  solution  of  the 
problem.  Physical  influx  merely  means  natural  influence,1  and 
this  doctrine  consists  in  accepting  as  a  fact  that  two  sub- 
stances naturally  re-act  on  one  another,  but  it  presents  no 
hypothesis  that  would  explain  the  how  of  this  union. 

Scientific  men  and  phenomenalists  of  the  school  of  Hume  are 

"  From  whatever  point  of  view,"  says  Euler,  "  we  consider  that  close 
union  between  body  and  soul  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  a  living 
man,  it  will  always  remain  inexplicable  by  philosophy  "  (Letter  to  a  Ger- 
man Princess,  2nd  Part,  I,  13). 

1  In  this  account  of  the  different  hypotheses  offered  in  explanation  of  the 
union  of  soul  and  body,  we  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  speak  of  the  so- 
called  theory  of  a  Plastic  medium  which  in  some  handbooks  of  Philosophy  is 
(on  the  authority  of  Laromiguiere)  ascribed  to  Cudworth,  the  well-known 
author  of  the  Systema  intellectuale.  We  have  shown  in  our  Latin  thesis  (De 
Natura  Plastica  Apud  Cudivorthum,  1848,  translated  into  French  1860)  that 
there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  in  Cudworth.  His  Plastic  Nature  does  not  serve  to 
explain  the  union  of  soul  and  body  but  the  production  of  organisation  and  of  life. 
It  is  a  kind  of  instinct,  a  kind  of  plastic  life  in  nature  analogous  to  what  is  now 
called  the  Unconscious  ;  and  Cudworth  uses  it  further  as  a  world  soul,  which 
under  God's  commands  is  charged  with  the  organizing  of  things,  and  is  respon- 
sible for  the  irregularities  and  errors  in  nature.  This  semi-spiritual,  semi-material 
principle  could  not  (as  was  supposed)  have  been  employed  as  an  explanation  of 
the  union  of  soul  and  body.  It  is  a  hypothesis  as  puerile  as  it  is  contradictory. 
II.  Q 


242 

content  to  state  that  we  cannot  lay  hold  of  the  connection 
between  a  bodily  modification  and  a  state  of  consciousness, 
and  that,  consequently,  we  have  before  us  two  series  of 
irreducible  phenomena.  In  Tyndall's  words  : 

"  Were  our  minds  and  senses  so  expanded,  strengthened,  and  illumi- 
nated as  to  enable  us  to  see  and  feel  the  very  molecules  of  the  brain,  were  we 
capable  of  following  all  their  motions,  all  their  groupings,  all  their  electric 
discharges — if  such  there  be,  and  were  we  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  corresponding  states  of  thought  and  feeling,  we  should  be  as  far  as 
ever  from  the  solution  of  the  problem  :  how  are  these  physical  processes 
connected  with  the  facts  of  consciousness  ?  The  chasm  between  the  two 
classes  of  phenomena  would  still  remain  intellectually  impassable." 

Kant  regards  it  as  one  of  the  advantages  of  his  Critique  of 
Pure  Reason  that  it  relieves  us  of  the  insoluble  problem  of  the 
union  of  soul  and  body.  Something  of  the  Cartesian  dualism 
yet  remains  in  his  theory :  the  underlying  substance  of  things 
is  neither  matter  nor  mind,  but  an  unknown  thing-in-itself, 
which  is  revealed  to  us  in  body  and  thought  under  the  different 
forms  of  space  and  time.  The  Materialists  and  the  Idealists 
were  both  equally  wrong:  we  do  not  perceive  mind  immediately 
as  a  substance,  much  less  as  the  substance  of  all  things  ;  mind  is 
not  a  mode  or  a  phenomenon  of  matter,  there  is  no  way  of  pass- 
ing from  the  one  to  another.  Body  and  thought  are  two  different 
phenomena  ;  it  is  possible  that  the  thing-in-itself  is  a  single 
substance,  which  under  the  form  of  space  is  body,  and  under 
the  form  of  time  is  thought.  Although  we  cannot  escape  from 
this  antithesis  of  the  two  orders  of  phenomena,  we  are  delivered 
by  the  Critique  from  an  insoluble  problem. 

"  The  difficulty  which  lies  in  the  execution  of  this  task  consists,  as  is 
well  known,  in  the  presupposed  heterogeneity  of  the  object  of  the  internal 
sense  (the  soul)  and  the  objects  of  the  external  senses,  inasmuch  as  the 
formal  condition  of  the  intuition  of  the  one  is  time,  and  of  that  of  the 
other  space  also.  But  if  we  consider  that  both  kinds  of  objects  do  not  differ 
internally,  but  only  in  so  far  as  the  one  appears  externally  to  the  other • — 
consequently  that  what  lies  at  the  basis  of  phenomena,  as  a  thing-in-itself, 
may  not  be  heterogeneous,  this  difficulty  disappears.  There  then  remains 
no  other  difficulty  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  question — how  a  community 
of  substances  is  possible  ;  a  question  which  lies  out  of  the  region  of 
psychology,  and  which  the  reader,  after  what  in  our  analytic  has  been 
said  of  primitive  forces  and  faculties,  will  easily  judge  to  be  also  beyond 
the  region  of  human  cognition "  (Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Transc. 
Dialectic,  Bk.  II,  Ch.  I). 


THE  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  MATTER  AND  MIND       243 

For  Fichte  there  is  only  one  substance,  the  infinite  Ego.  On 
the  other  hand,  Schelling's  Absolute  is  the  identity  of  subject 
-and  object,  of  the  real  and  the  ideal. 

"  Nature  not  only  in  herself,  as  being  the  integral  and  absolute  act  of 
the  divine  manifestation,  but  also  in  her  visible  existence,  is  essentially 
one,  and  contains  no  inner  diversity.  In  all  things  Nature  is  the  same 
life,  the  same  power,  the  same  fusion  through  ideas.  In  Nature  there  is 
no  pure  corporeal  existence,  but  everywhere  souls  symbolically  trans- 
formed into  body.  .  .  .  Psychology  rests  on  the  hypothesis  of  the 
antithesis  between  soul  and  body,  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine  what  may 
come  of  inquiries  into  what  does  not  exist,  namely,  a  soul  in  opposition 
to  the  body.  Any  true  science  of  man  must  be  sought  in  the  essential 
and  absolute  unity  of  soul  and  body,  that  is,  in  the  idea  of  man,  and  con- 
sequently not  in  general  in  the  real  and  empirical  man,  who  is  merely  a 
relative  manifestation  of  the  former.  ...  A  true  science  of  Nature  must 
start  from  the  identity  of  soul  and  body  in  all  existence ;  so  that  between 
physics  and  psychology  no  real  antithesis  should  be  conceived  to  exist " 
(  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Methode  des  Akademischen  Studiums,  VI  and  XI). 

Materialists  affirm  the  identity  of  matter  and  force  :  "  there  is 
no  matter  without  force,  they  say,  and  no  force  without  matter," 
but  they  do  not  trouble  themselves  to  define  either  matter 
•or  force,  nor  the  how  of  their  union.  The  Spiritualists  who 
still  uphold  the  Cartesian  dualism,  regard  the  union  of  the  two 
heterogeneous  substances,  mind  and  body,  as  a  fact  which 
•experience  compels  us  to  accept,  and  which  science  is  incapable 
of  explaining. 

It  would  seem,  however,  that  there  is  a  growing  tendency 
to  admit  that  substance  is  one,  after  the  manner  either  of 
Leibnitz  or  of  Spinoza,  and  in  this  way  to  avoid  the  insoluble 
problem  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body.  But  at  the  same 
time,  we  must  remark  that  it  is  not  much  easier  to  under- 
stand how  two  substances  of  the  same  nature  can  act  on 
one  another.  As  Cuvier  observes,  the  communication  of  motion 
appears  to  us  to  be  adequately  explained,  only  because  we  are 
accustomed  to  find  it  everywhere.  It  would  seem  as  if,  in 
accordance  with  Schelling's  conception,  the  interaction  between 
all  the  individuals  which  make  up  the  universe  can,  in  the  last 
resort,  be  comprehensible  only  through  the  hypothesis  of  the 
unity  of  the  principles  of  which  they  are  the  manifestation. 
The  drawback  to  this  hypothesis  is,  that  in  explaining  the  unity 
of  things  it  imperils  their  individuality. 


PART  IV 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN  ANCIENT  TIMES  AND  IN 
THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

IT  may  be  said  that,  broadly  speaking,  all  philosophy  grew 
out  of  mythology ;  but  this  is  especially  true  of  that  branch 
of  philosophy  which  deals  with  the  questions  of  the  existence 
and  the  attributes  of  God.  It  is  evident  that  these  problems 
arose  out  of  reflections  suggested  to  the  human  mind  by  the 
popular  beliefs  which  lie  at  the  root  of  every  religion.  Logi- 
cally, then,  the  history  of  religion  should  have  preceded  the 
history  of  philosophy ;  but  we  shall  not  go  so  far  back  ;  we 
shall  merely  give  a  brief  account  of  the  earliest  religious 
conceptions  of  the  Greeks,  as  far  as  they  can  be  discovered 
through  the  works  of  their  earliest  poets,  through  the  Theogony 
of  Hesiod  and  the  poems  of  Homer. 

Greek  Theology :   The  Poets  ;  Hesiod  and  Homer. 

Hesiod  taught  that  the  world  came  out  of  chaos  through  the 
operation  of  Love. 

"...  Foremost  sprang  Chaos  and  next  broad-bosomed  Earth  ever 
secure  seat  of  all  Immortals  .  .  .  and  dark  dim  Tartarus  in  a  recess  of 
Earth  having  broad  ways,  and  Love  who  is  most  beautiful  among  im- 
mortal gods,  Love  that  relaxes  the  limbs.  .  .  .  But  from  Chaos  were  born 
Erebus  and  black  Night,  and  from  Night  again  sprang  forth  Aether  and 
Day,  whom  she  bare  after  having  conceived  by  union  with  Erebus  in  love  " 
(Theog.  116  et  seq.). 

We    find   the   same  theogony  in    the    myth   of    the    birds 
related  by  Aristophanes  in  his  comedy  of  that  name  (Birds, 


248  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

V,  191).  This  appears  to  have  been  the  most  ancient  form  of 
Greek  theology,  and  it  corresponds  to  a  certain  extent  with 
what  we  can  learn  of  the  theology  of  the  Phoenicians  from  the 
testimony  of  Sanchuniathon  (Philo  Byblius  op.  Eusebius,Praepar. 
JEvang.  I,  c,  VI).  It  is,  as  we  see,  a  kind  of  pantheistic 
naturalism,  in  which  everything  comes  out  of  chaos,  through 
the  operation  of  forces  which  lay  dormant  within  it  and  by 
which  it  is  transformed. 

In  Homer's  theology  we  find  quite  a  different  tone  and  a 
different  spirit.  This  pantheistical  and  naturalistic  cosmogony 
becomes  an  anthropomorphism  that  is  not  far  removed  from 
theism.  Jupiter  is  the  supreme  ruler  (i/Traro?  /mija-Tuip),  who 
arranges  and  directs  all  things ;  all  the  forces  of  the  universe 
are  subject  to  his  authority.  In  the  highest  place  in  the 
empire  of  the  gods,  Jupiter  stands  alone  as  the  ideal  of 
supreme  power  and  absolute  intelligence.  He  presides  over 
the  assemblies  of  the  gods,  and  he  holds  communion  with 
man.  He  is  the  father  of  Ate,  who  leads  the  guilty  astray ;  of 
Eemorse,  by  which  offences  are  wiped  out ;  of  Pity,  the  avenger 
of  the  oppressed.  He  is  the  protector  of  the  rights  on  which 
rest  the  relations  between  men,  the  supreme  God  of  oaths  and 
of  the  family.  He  watches  over  the  habitations  of  men,  is  the 
patron  of  guests  and  suppliants,  and  even  of  beggars  (see  Jules 
Girard,  Du  Sentiment  religieiix  chez  les  Grecs,  pp.  71,  72). 

Notwithstanding  the  many  noble  thoughts  which  are  to  be 
found  in  the  poetry  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  the  religion  of  the 
Greeks  never  rose  much  above  mythology,  and  never  became 
exactly  what  we  call  a  religion.  For  the  marks  of  a  religion 
are  three  :  firstly,  a  revealer ;  secondly,  a  sacred  book  ;  thirdly, 
a  system  of  metaphysics  and  of  ethics.  The  Greeks  had  no 
revealer :  no  man  ever  professed  to  be  or  was  accepted  among 
them  as  a  sacred  and  privileged  intermediary  between  God  and 
man  ;  they  had  no  Manu,  no  Zoroaster,  no  Buddha.  Nor  had  they 
any  sacred  book  such  as  the  Zend-Avesta  or  the  Vedas,  or  the 
Koran.  Lastly,  they  had  no  theology,  that  is,  no  metaphysical 
and  moral  doctrine  evolved  by  a  learned  priesthood  and  regarded 
as  above  the  private  judgment  of  individuals.  In  Greece  the 
poets  were  the  theologians.  To  them  alone  was  due  the 
development  of  the  religious  and  moral  ideas  implied  in  the 
popular  beliefs.  Some  attempts  at  religious  organization  were, 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     249 

however,  made,  and  these  give  us  an  idea  of  what  the  Greek 
religion  might  have  become.  Such  were  the  mysteries  of 
Orpheus  and,  one  might  even  add,  the  Pythagorean  Brother- 
hood. (See  Jules  Girard.)  All  these  attempts,  however,  led 
to  nothing,  and  the  Greek  religion  remained  a  religion  of  the 
imagination,  in  which  philosophers  and  poets  took  the  place  of 
metaphysicians  and  moralists. 

Let  us  now  see  how  the  religious  notions  of  the  poets  were 
developed  through  philosophy. 

The  Cosmogony  of  the  First  Greek  Philosophers :  The  Ionic 
School ;  Xenophanes :  Criticism  of  Polytheism ;  Pantheism  of 
Xenophanes  ;  Religious  Scepticism  ;  The  Sophists. 

Before  it  grew  into  a  theology,  the  earliest  Greek  philo- 
sophic system,  that  of  the  Ionic  school,  was  a  cosmogony ;  and 
it  may  be  regarded  as  the  translation  into  an  abstract  and 
scientific  form  of  the  mythological  cosmogony.  Aristotle  traces 
the  doctrine  of  Thales,  who  derived  everything  from  water,  to 
the  ancient  myth,  according  to  which  Ocean  is  "  the  father 
•of  Gods  and  men  "  (Arist.  Metaph.  I,  3).  But  the  cosmogony 
•of  Thales,  though  apparently  materialistic,  was  inspired  by  a 
pantheistical  conception.  He  said  that  all  things  were  full  of 
God,  Trdvra  TrXripri  Oetov  (Arist.  De  Anima,  I,  5).  He  also  thought 
the  loadstone  had  a  soul  (Arist.  I,  2,  405  a,  19). 

The  first  thinker  who  raised  the  conception  of  God  to  a 
philosophic  plane,  whether  by  combating  popular  superstitions 
or  by  defining  the  peculiar  marks  and  attributes  of  Divinity, 
was  Xenophanes,  the  founder  of  the  Eleatic  school.  Xeno- 
phanes ridicules  the  polytheistic  anthropomorphism.  Men, 
he  says,  make  gods  in  their  own  image. 

"  Negroes  imagine  them  as  black  and  with  flattened  noses ;  the 
Thracians,  with  blue  eyes  and  red  hair  ;  if  oxen  and  horses  could  paint, 
they  would  represent  their  gods  as  horses  and  oxen  "  (Xenoph.  Frag. 
6  and  7  ;  Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  I,  24). 

Homer  and  Hesiod  represent  the  Gods  as  committing  all  the 
acts  that  are  considered  most  disgraceful  in  men,  such  as  theft 
.and  adultery  (Cic.  De  Nat.  Deor.  I,  24). 

Xenophanes  gave,  according  to  Aristotle  {De  Xenoph.  3),  an 
a  priori  proof  of  the  unity  of  God :  "  If  God  is  the  most 


250 

powerful  of  beings,  He  must  be  One ;  for  if  He  were  two  or 
several,  He  would  not  be  the  most  powerful,  since  in  that  case 
He  could  not  accomplish  His  will  in  all  things " ;  and  he 
proved  the  eternity  of  God  in  the  same  way.  Finally,  he 
ascribes  to  Him  the  highest  of  all  attributes,  namely,  intelli- 
gence :  "  Without  effort,"  he  says,  "  He  directs  all  things  by 
the  omnipotence  of  mind  ;  cnrdvevOe  TTOVOIO  voov  (fipevl  iravra. 
KpaSaivei "  (Frag.  3).  It  may,  however,  be  questioned  whether 
these  words  are  to  be  understood  in  a  theistical  or  pantheis- 
tical sense  (see  V.  Cousin,  Frag.  philosopJiiques,  art.  Xenophane). 
Aristotle  tells  us  that  it  was  while  contemplating  the  whole 
heaven  that  Xenophanes  reached  the  conception  of  the  Divine 
unity :  «V  TOJ>  o\ov  ovpavov  a7ro/3Ae\^ct9  (Metaph.  I,  5) ;  and 
it  would  seem  also  that  it  is  to  the  whole  universe  that  the 
following  lofty  conception  applies :  "  Whole  and  entire  He 
sees,  conceives,  and  hears :  QvXos  opa,  ovXos  Se  voei,  ovAo?  Se 
T  oiKovei  "  (Frag.  2). 

Thus,  it  was  not  Xenophanes  but  Anaxagoras  who  first 
separated  mind  from  matter,  and  saw  in  Intelligence  the  source 
of  all  things.  This  we  gather  from  the  following  passage  in 
Aristotle : 

"  For  of  the  excellent  and  beautiful  order  of  some  things,  and  of  the 
production  of  others  of  the  entities,  it  is  not  natural  to  assign,  perhaps, 
either  earth  or  anything  of  this  kind  as  a  cause  .  .  .  nor  was  it  seemlyT 
on  the  other  hand,  to  attribute  so  important  a  part  to  chance  and 
fortune.  Now,  whosoever  affirmed  mind,  as  in  animals,  so  also  in  nature, 
to  be  the  cause  of  the  system  of  the  world,  and  of  the  entire  harmony 
of  it,  the  same  appeared,  as  it  were,  of  sober  temperament,  in  comparison 
with  the  vain  theorists  of  earlier  ages  (oTov  v^w  €<fximr)  Trap  €IKTJ 
Aeyofras  TOVS  irporepov).  Now,  we  know  that  Anaxagoras  openly 
adopted  these  principles"  (Metaph.  1,  3). 

The  following  are  the  fragments  from  Anaxagoras  which  we 
still  possess,  and  which  go  to  prove  the  above  theory  : 

"  In  the  beginning  there  was  an  infinite  number  of  things,  all  mixed  up 
together,  then  mind  came  and  separated  them  and  arranged  them  all  in 
distinct  order  :  6p.ov  iravra  xP^aTct  ty,  Novs  irdvra  81  e*  007x770-6 " : 
(D.L.  u,  6).  "  Mind  is  independent  (avTOKpdrrjs)  ',  is  not  mixed  with 
anything  else,  is  entire  in  itself,  p.ovvo<;  avrbs  «<£'  eavrov  eo-ri.  Mind  is- 

1  The  word  SteKoo-yur/ere  signifies  both  the  act  of  separating  (did)  and  the  act  of 
putting  order  into  things  (KOOT^W). 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     251 


the  most  subtle  and  the  purest  of  things,  TO  XeirroTarov,  TO 
(Frag.  8).     "  It  has  a  supreme  power  over  all  things  :  ur\vft 
iravTwv  vovs  KpaTffi."     Lastly,  "  mind  possesses  unlimited  knowledge  : 
irepl  TravTos  to"^€t,  7ravTa  lyvw"  (Simplicius,  271  a,  30). 

With  the  Sophists,  scepticism  as  regards  religious  matters 
appears  for  the  first  time.      Protagoras  said  : 

"  I  know  nothing  about  the  Gods,  whether  they  are  or  are  not. 
ovd'  ws  eto-t,  ovd'  u>s  OVK  fieri"  (D.L.  ix,  51).  Thrasymachus  is  supposed  to 
have  suggested  doubts  concerning  Divine  Providence.  He  said  that  the 
Gods  did  not  trouble  themselves  about  human  affairs  :  on.  01  Oeol  ov\ 


opwcri  TO. 

Finally,  to  Critias,  one  of  the  thirty  tyrants,  and  a  pupil  of 
the  Sophists  and  of  Socrates,  a  passage  is  attributed  in  which, 
like  the  philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he  ascribes 
the  invention  of  the  Gods  to  the  law  makers. 

"  In  the  beginning,"  he  says,  "  men  lived  like  animals,  without  law  or 
order.  Penal  laws  were  established,  but  as  the  laws  only  reached  crimes 
that  were  openly  committed,  a  clever,  ingenious  man  came  forward,  who, 
with  a  view  to  preventing  hidden  crimes,  spoke  of  the  immortal  gods, 
and  gave  out  that  heaven  was  their  dwelling-place  "  (Sext.  Emp.  Adv. 
Math.  IX,  54). 

Philosophic   Theism  :   Socrates  ;  final  Causes  ;  Providence. 

The  irreligious  tendency  of  the  Sophists'  teaching  called  forth 
a  defender  of  the  moral  and  religious  conceptions  of  mankind. 
Although  we  have  found,  it  is  true,  in  previous  thinkers  the 
germs  of  philosophic  theism,  they  were  still  so  feeble  and  so 
vague  that  we  are  justified  in  regarding  Socrates  as  its  true 
founder,  as  the  first  philosopher  who  had  the  conception  of  a 
Divine  Personality,  and  as  the  discoverer  of  that  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God  which  was  known  in  the  Schools  as  the  proof 
by  final  causes.  We  have  in  the  speech  of  Socrates  in  Plato's 
Phaedo,  and  again  in  the  conversation  carried  on  between 
Socrates,  Euthydemus  and  Aristodenius,  as  reported  by 
Xenophon,  the  clearest  statement  of  the  above  doctrines. 

Like  his  predecessors,  Socrates  had  at  first  occupied  himself 
with  physics  and  cosmogony,  but  he  could  not  rest  content 
with  their  explanation  of  things.  Even  Anaxagoras,  who, 
indeed,  introduced  intelligence  into  his  system  but  made  no 
use  of  it,  failed  to  satisfy  him.  For  Socrates,  on  the  contrary, 


252  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

conceived  the  universe  as  the  product  of  a  moral  cause,  of  a  bene- 
ficent will.  He  said  that  phenomena  came  to  be  not  because 
they  must,  but  because  it  was  good  that  they  should  exist. 
This  is  the  substance  of  his  speech  in  the  Pha.edo  (96,  199). 
Xenophon  gives  a  similar  but  more  popular  account  of  the 
doctrine  of  Socrates  in  the  Memorabilia.  There  he  points  out 
to  Aristodemus  (Mem.  I,  4)  the  happy  combinations  found  in 
the  human  body,  the  harmonious  concatenation  of  causes  and 
effects,  and  of  means  and  ends.  In  nature  he  finds  not  only 
traces  of  intelligence,  but  proofs  of  a  beneficent  power  which 
watches  over  man  (IV,  3).  He  believes  in  the  constant 
presence  and  unerring  action  of  this  power  in  the  universe. 
He  believes  that  God  observes  the  actions  of  men,  and  that 
He  knows  their  secret  thoughts  and  feelings. 

Thus  Socrates  acknowledges  the  existence,  not  only  of  God, 
but  of  Providence,  and  not  only  of  that  universal  Providence 
which  watches  over  the  whole  world,  but  of  a  particular  Pro- 
vidence which  is  interested  in  the  fate  of  individuals.  He 
recommends  men  to  pray,  and  to  pray  only  for  the  good  of 
their  souls,  and  not  for  temporal  goods.  Speaking  from  the 
philosophical  point  of  view,  we  may  say  that  it  was  Socrates 
who  revealed  the  God  of  the  West.  Whilst,  with  the  exception 
of  Judea,  the  whole  of  the  East  adored  nature  under  the  name 
of  God,  and  whilst  the  Greek  religion  was  still  no  more  than  a 
religion  of  nature  in  an  anthropomorphic  form,  Socrates  was  the 
first  to  make  known  the  moral  God,  such  as  He  has  since  been 
acknowledged  and  adored  by  all  civilized  nations. 

Plato  s  Religious  Doctrine :  the  Idea  of  the  Good :  the 
Life  of  God;  Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  God;  Providence; 
The  Existence  of  Evil;  Optimism. 

Plato  gave  to  the  conceptions  of  Socrates  a  fuller  de- 
velopment and  a  more  scientific  form.  It  is  with  him  that 
the  history  of  the  philosophy  of  religion  really  begins. 
Indeed,  it  might  be  said  with  truth  that  his  whole  philosophy, 
that  is  to  say,  his  theory  of  Ideas,  was  nothing  else  than  a 
theodicy. 

What  are  we  to  understand  by  the  term  Idea  (ISea,  ef<5o?)  in 
Plato's  doctrine  ?  It  was  the  universal  and  essential  element 
in  all  things,  that  which  is  fixed  and  permanent  in  them. 


But  the  Idea  is  superior  to  individuals,  not  only  in  quantity 
as  being  the  one  in  the  many,  but  also  in  quality.  It  is  not 
only  the  universal,  it  is  also  the  ideal  (see  our  Essai  sur  la 
dialectique  de  Platon,  p.  249).  No  doubt  these  two  points  of 
view  were  often  confounded  by  Plato,  so  that  Aristotle  was- 
led  to  regard  his  theory  as  a  tissue  of  abstractions,  but  the 
whole  spirit  of  Plato's  teaching  contradicts  this  interpreta- 
tion. For  Plato,  the  measure  of  Being  was  not  only  the 
generality  and  extension  of  the  concept,  it  was  at  the 
same  time  and  more  especially  its  perfection.  For,  among 
all  the  different  Ideas,  to  which  does  Plato  give  the  highest 
rank,  and  to  which  does  he  always  unhesitatingly  and  with  the 
most  entire  conviction  ascribe  existence  ?  Is  it  not  to  the 
Ideas  of  what  is  most  perfect,  the  Ideas  of  the  Just,  the  Fair,, 
and  the  Good  ? 

"...  There  is  an  absolute  beauty  and  goodness,  an  absolute  essence 
of  all  things.  .  .  .  For  there  is  nothing  which,  to  my  mind,  is  so  patent 
as  that  beauty,  goodness  .  .  .  have  a  most  real  and  absolute  existence "" 
(Phaedo,  77). 

In  a  word,  all  the  Ideas  Plato  here  discusses  have  the  char- 
acteristics of  existence,  and  are  regarded  by  him  as  being 
beyond  all  doubt,  and,  although  he  places  them  in  a  lower 
rank,  it  is  the  same  with  the  mathematical  notions,  equality,, 
number  and  measure,  all  that  constitutes  the  principle  of  order 
and  harmony  in  sensible  things.  Finally,  but  with  some 
hesitation,  Plato  teaches  the  existence  of  the  Ideas  of  sensible 
things,  that  is  to  say,  the  essential  principle  of  each  genus 
and  each  species,  such  as  the  Idea  of  man  (Farm.  130),  the 
Idea  of  fire  (Tim.  51  c),  and  even  the  Idea  of  the  sensible  world 
in  general,  which  he  calls  TO  avroQaov. 

But,  can  it  be  that  these  ideal  types,  these  bases  of  the 
visible  and  sensible  reality,  are,  as  has  been  asserted,  merely 
modes  without  substance,  or  do  they  not  rather  themselves  depend 
upon  a  higher  Idea,  which  is  no  other  than  the  Idea  of  God  ? 
On  this  point  Plato's  own  words  are  decisive.  It  is  impossible 
to  separate  the  Ideas  from  God.  For  does  not  Plato  say  in 
the  Republic, "  All  intelligible  beings  derive  their  being  and  their 
essence  from  the  good,  TO  elvai  KOI  Tr)v  ova-lav  VTT'  eiceivov  airrof? 
Trpocreivai "  (Rep.  509  &).  And  does  not  this  mean  that  all  the 


254 

Ideas  have  their  substance  in  the  Idea  of  the  Good,  which 
is,  in  fact,  God  Himself  ?  This  we  also  infer  from  another 
passage  in  the  Republic : 

"  In  the  world  of  knowledge  the  Idea  of  Good  appears  last  of  all,  and 
is  seen  only  with  an  effort  ;  and  when  seen  is  also  referred  to  the 
universal  author  of  all  things  beautiful  and  right,  parent  of  light  and 
of  the  lord  of  light  in  this  visible  world,  and  the  immediate  source  of 
reason  and  truth  in  the  intellectual"  (Hep.  VII,  517 a). 

Can  it  be  said  that  what  Plato  calls  the  Idea  of  the  Good  is 
not  God  Himself  ?  What,  then,  is  it  ?  What  principle,  other 
than  God,  could  be  the  source  of  truth  and  of  intelligence,  the 
cause  of  all  that  is  beautiful  and  good  in  things  ? 

"  This  [the  Idea  of  Good]  you  will  deem  to  be  the  cause  of  science  and  of 
truth  .  .  .  beautiful,  too,  as  are  both  truth  and  knowledge,  you  will  be 
right  in  esteeming  this  other  nature  as  more  beautiful  than  either  .  .  . 
science  and  truth  may  be  like  the  Good,  but  they  are  not  the  Good  ; 
true  Good  has  a  place  of  honour  yet  higher  "  (Rep.  VI,  508  e). 

Again,  it  is  this  same  principle  that,  according  to  Plato,  is 
the  object,  not  only  of  dialectic,  but  of  love.  Love  pursues  the 
Beautiful,  as  science  pursues  the  True,  and  virtue  the  Good.  Love 
rises  from  the  body  to  the  spirit,  from  beauty  of  form  to  beauty 
of  feeling,  from  beauty  of  feeling  to  beauty  of  knowledge,  until 
it  reaches  the  Beautiful  as  it  is  in  itself. 

"  But  what,"  says  Diotima  of  Mantineia  to  Socrates,  in  the  Symposium, 
*'  what  if  man  had  eyes  to  see  the  true  beauty — the  divine  beauty,  I  mean, 
— pure  and  clear  and  unalloyed,  not  clogged  with  the  pollutions  of  mor- 
tality and  all  the  colours  and  vanities  of  human  life — thither  looking,  and 
holding  converse  with  the  true  beauty,  simple  and  divine?"  (Symp. 
210  sqq.). 

And  this  God,  this  supreme  term  of  dialectic  and  of  love,  is 
not  a  logical  entity  without  consciousness  and  without  per- 
sonality, but  a  living  God. 

"  And,  O  Heavens,"  says  Plato  in  the  Sophist,  "  can  we  ever  be  made  to 
believe  that  motion  and  life  and  soul  and  mind  are  not  present  with  per- 
fect being  1  Can  we  imagine  that  being  is  devoid  of  life  and  mind,  and 
•exists  in  awful  unmeaningness,  an  everlasting  fixture  "  (Sophist,  249  e). 

Plato,  while  he  ascends  to  God  spontaneously  in  the  upward 
movement  of  dialectic  and  of  love,  at  the  same  time  endeavours 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS     255 

to  establish  His  existence  by  arguments ;  and,  with  him,  begins 
the  history  of  what  are  called  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of 
God. 

Istly.  The  proof  by  efficient  cause. — All  that  is  born,  or 
comes  into  being,  necessarily  proceeds  from  some  cause.  The 
cause  is  the  same  as  that  which  produces.  That  which 
produces  precedes,  and  the  thing  produced  follows  (Phil.  7). 
There  exists,  therefore,  a  power  capable  of  causing  things  to 
become  other  than  they  were  before  (Sophist,  205  b). 

2ndly.    What  is  in  the  effect  exists  ideally  in  the  cause. 

"  Soc.  May  our  body  be  said  to  have  a  soul  ? — Pro.  Clearly. — Soc.  And 
whence  comes  that  soul,  my  dear  Protarchus,  unless  the  body  of  the 
universe,  which  contains  elements  like  those  in  our  bodies,  but  in  every 
way  fairer,  had  also  a  soul  ?  .  .  .  and  wisdom  and  mind  cannot  exist  with- 
out soul  .  .  .  and  in  the  divine  nature  of  Zeus  would  you  not  say  that  there 
is  the  soul  and  the  mind  of  a  king,  because  there  is  in  him  the  power  of 
the  cause  1"  (Phil.  30). 

3rdly.  Proof  from  the  motor  cause. — Plato,  forestalling  Aris- 
totle, gave  a  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  by  motion,  which  is  the 
subject  of  a  lengthy  demonstration  in  the  10th  book  of  the 
Laws.  It  is  true  that,  in  this  passage,  he  speaks  of  the  world- 
soul,  rather  than  of  God,  but  this  world-soul  was  created  by 
God. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  motion  ;  "  there  is  a  motion  able  to  move  other 
things,  but  not  to  move  itself,"  and  there  is  a  motion  that  "can  move  itself 
as  well  as  other  things."  The  substance  that  can  move  itself  is,  therefore, 
the  cause  of  motion  in  substances  that  cannot  move  themselves.  The  soul 
is,  then,  prior  to  the  body,  and,  consequently,  its  "  character,  and  manners, 
and  wishes,  and  reasonings,  and  true  opinions,  and  reflections,  and  recollec- 
tions are  prior  to  length,  and  breadth,  and  strength  of  bodies."  Plato 
finds  further  proof  in  the  celestial  order  and  harmony.  "  If,  my  friend, 
we  say  that  the  whole  path  and  movement  of  heaven,  and  of  all  that  is 
therein,  is  by  nature  akin  to  the  movement,  and  revolution,  and  calcula- 
tion of  mind,  and  proceeds  by  kindred  laws,  then,  as  is  plain,  we  must 
say  that  the  best  soul  takes  care  of  the  world,  and  guides  it  along  the 
good  path  "  (Laws  X). 

4thly.  Proof  by  final  causes. — Plato  was  a  faithful  follower  of 
the  Socratic  tradition.  We  cannot  say  whether  it  is  Socrates 
himself,  or  Plato  in  the  name  of  Socrates,  who  opposes  the 
method  of  final  causes  to  that  of  physical  causes.  It  is 
certain,  however,  that  this  well-known  passage  in  the  Phaedo 


256  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

expresses  a  doctrine  which  they  held  in  common.  Socrates 
laughs  at  those  who  explain  the  universe  by  air,  water,  aether, 
etc. : 

"  I  might  compare  him  to  a  person  who  began  by  maintaining  generally 
that  mind  is  the  cause  of  the  actions  of  Socrates,  but  who,  when  he 
endeavoured  to  explain  the  causes  of  my  several  actions  in  detail,  went 
on  to  show  that  I  sit  here  because  my  body  is  made  up  of  bones  and 
muscles  ;  and  that  as  the  bones,  as  he  would  say,  are  hard,  I  have  joints 
which  divide  them,  and  the  muscles  are  elastic  and  they  cover  the  bones, 
etc.  .  .  .  and  he  would  have  a  similar  explanation  of  my  talking  to  you, 
which  he  would  attribute  to  sound,  and  air,  and  hearing,  and  he  would 
assign  a  thousand  other  causes  of  the  same  sort,  forgetting  to  mention 
the  true  cause,  which  is  that  the  Athenians  have  thought  fit  to  condemn 
me,  and  accordingly  I  have  thought  it  better  and  more  right  to  remain 
here  and  undergo  my  sentence  "  (Pkaedo,  989  sqq.).  ...  "  The  second  and 
co-operative  causes  .  .  .  are  thought  by  most  men  not  to  be  the  second 
but  the  prime  causes  of  all  things,  because  they  freeze  and  heat,  contract 
and  dilate,  and  the  like ;  but  they  are  not  so,  for  they  are  incapable  of 
reason  or  intellect.  .  .  .  The  lover  of  intellect  and  knowledge  ought  to- 
explore  causes  of  intelligent  nature  first  of  all,  and,  secondly,  of  those  things, 
which,  being  moved  by  others,  are  impelled  to  move  others"  (Tim.  46). 

Plato  says  elsewhere  that  "  the  intelligence  is  of  the  same 
family  as  the  cause."  "  Let  us  remember,  then,  that  the 
intelligence  has  affinity  with  the  cause,  and  is  of  the  same 
kind."  Further,  the  intelligence  is  the  same  as  the  truth. 
It  is  the  lover  of  measure  and  proportion ;  it  is  what  has 
most  affinity  with  the  Good  (Phil.  65  a). 

From  these  principles,  Plato  deduces  a  teleological  theory, 
which  (if  it  is  not  intended  to  be  partly  mythical)  appears  to 
us  arbitrary  and  somewhat  childish,  but  which  may  neverthe- 
less be  regarded  as  the  first  attempt  at  what  has  been  called 
in  modern  times  physical  theology.  Thus  he  tells  us  that : 

"  God  placed  water  and  air  in  the  mean  between  fire  and  earth  .  .  . 
and  for  these  reasons  .  .  .  the  body  of  the  world  was  created,  and  it  was 
harmonized  by  proportion,  and  therefore  has  the  spirit  of  friendship" 
(Tim.  32).  "He  made  the  world  in  the  form  of  a  globe  .  .  .  the  most 
perfect  and  the  most  like  itself  of  all  figures  ;  for  he  considered  that  the 
like  is  infinitely  fairer  than  the  unlike  "  (Ibid.  33).  Sight  is  given  to  us  "  to 
the  end  that  we  might  behold  the  courses  of  the  intelligence  in  the 
heavens  and  that  we  might  imitate  the  absolutely  unerring  causes  of  good 
and  regulate  our  vagaries."  The  same  may  be  affirmed  of  speech  and 
hearing,  which  are  meant  to  "  correct  any  discord  which  may  have  arisen 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  EELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS     257 

in  the  courses  of  the  soul,  and  to  be  our  ally  in  bringing  her  into 
harmony  and  agreement  with  herself.  The  body  was  provided  as  its 
vehicle  and  means  of  locomotion  "  (Ibid.  44). 

For  Plato,  the  existence  of  God  implied  Divine  Providence, 
since  the  attributes  of  God  can  scarcely  be  separated  from  His 
existence.  If,  however,  we  follow  this  division,  which  is  the 
one  accepted  in  modern  works  on  the  nature  of  God,  the 
question  arises,  what  was  Plato's  view  of  the  metaphysical  and 
moral  attributes  of  the  Divinity  ?  (see  Fouillee,  IX,  Ch.  vi). 
God  is  one ;  for  He  is  not  such  or  such  a  good,  but  the  Good. 
He  is  simple,  not  because  He  possesses  one  single  quality,  but 
because  He  possesses  them  all.  He  is  immutable,  for  the  more 
perfect  a  being  is,  the  less  it  is  subject  to  change.  He  is  eternal, 
for  past  and  future  are  only  fleeting  forms  of  being ;  one  thing 
only  can  be  said  of  the  eternal  substance  :  that  it  is.  As  for  the 
moral  attributes  of  God,  they  are  all  implied  in  His  very 
definition,  namely,  that  He  is  the  Good.  God  created  the 
world  because  He  was  good. 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  then,  why  the  Creator  made  this  world  of  generation. 
He  was  good,  and  the  good  can  never  have  any  jealousy  of  anything. 
And  being  free  from  jealousy  He  desired  that  all  things  should  be  as 
like  Himself  as  they  could  be"  (Tim.  29  e). 

The  result  of  this  view  is  a  theory  of  optimism,  according  to 
which,  evil  must  be  an  accident  in  the  universe,  and  has  no 
reality,  no  effective  existence. 

.  "  Now  the  deeds  of  the  best  could  never  be,  or  have  been,  other  than  the 
fairest ;  and  the  Creator,  reflecting  on  the  things  which  are  by  nature 
visible,  found  that  no  unintelligent  nature  taken  as  a  whole  was  fairer 
than  an  intelligent  taken  as  a  whole  ;  and  that  intelligence  could  not  be 
present  in  anything  which  was  devoid  of  soul.  For  which  reason  He  put 
intelligence  in  soul  and  soul  in  body  that  He  might  be  the  Creator  of  a 
work  which  was  by  nature  fairest  and  best "  ( Tim.  30). 

We  find  the  same  doctrine  in  the  10th  book  of  the  Laws. 
"  He  (the  king)  contrived  so  to  place  each  of  the  parts 
that  their  position  might  in  the  easiest  and  best  manner 
procure  the  victory  of  good  and  the  defeat  of  evil  in  the 
whole  "  (Laws,  X,  904). 

Not  only  did  God's  goodness  preside  over  the  origin  of  the 
universe,  it  also  follows  the  world  in  its  development,  and 
II.  R 


258  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

continues   to  watch   over   it,  and  to  protect   it,  even  in  the 
smallest  details,  and  may  therefore  be  called  Providence. 

"  Let  us  not,  then,  deem  God  inferior  to  human  workmen,  who,  in 
proportion  to  their  skill,  finish  and  perfect  their  works,  small  as  well  as 
great,  by  one  and  the  same  art  ;  or  that  God,  the  wisest  of  beings,  who  is 
both  willing  and  able  to  take  care,  is  like  a  lazy  good-for-nothing,  or  a 
coward  who  turns  his  back  upon  labour  and  gives  no  thought  to  smaller 
and  easier  matters,  but  to  the  great  only  "  (Laws,  902). 

Thus  regarded,  the  objection  of  the  existence  of  evil  dis- 
appears ;  what  we  have  to  consider  is  the  whole,  and  not  its 
parts. 

"  And  one  of  these  portions  of  the  universe  is  thine  own,  unhappy  man, 
which,  however  little,  contributes  to  the  whole,  and  you  do  not  seem  to  be 
aware  that  this,  and  every  other  creation,  is  for  the  sake  of  the  whole,  and 
that  you  are  created  for  the  sake  of  the  whole,  and  not  the  whole  for  the 
sake  of  you.  For  every  physician,  and  every  skilled  artist,  does  all  things 
for  the  sake  of  the  whole,  directs  his  efforts  towards  the  common  good, 
executing  the  part  for  the  sake  of  the  whole,  and  not  the  whole  for  the 
sake  of  the  part.  And  you  are  annoyed  because  you  are  ignorant  how 
what  is  best  for  you  happens  to  you  and  to  the  universe,  as  far  as  the 
laws  of  the  common  creation  admit "  (Laws,  903). 

Thus  we  see  how  strong  is  the  resemblance  between  Plato's 
theological  conceptions  and  those  of  Christianity.  This  re- 
semblance was  so  striking  that  some  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church  thought  he  must  have  had  access  to  the  Scriptures, 
but  this  theory  is  very  improbable  and  is  now  no  longer 
accepted  by  anyone.  Plato  merely  developed  the  thoughts  of 
Socrates,  who  is,  as  we  have  said,  the  true  founder  of  philosophic 
theism.  But  while  we  recognize  the  analogy  between  the 
Platonic  and  Christian  philosophies,  we  must,  however,  notice 
an  essential  difference  in  them,  namely,  that  the  God  of  Plato 
is  not  a  God  who  creates,  but  a  God  who  is  an  architect,  an 
organizer,  a  dcmiurgus  who  manipulates  a  necessary  and  pre- 
existing matter :  we  shall  return  to  this  point  when  we  come 
to  Christian  theodicy. 

The  Theology  of  Aristotle :  The  Potential  and  the  Actual ; 
Pure  Actuality  ;  The  Thought  of  Thought ;  The  Argument  of  a 
First  Mover, 

It  may  be  said  that  Aristotle's  theodicy  is  substantially  the 
same  as  Plato's ;  but  Aristotle  goes  deeper  into  the  subject,  and 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS     259 

treats  it  with  more  scientific  rigour.  They  both  place  the 
essence  of  God  in  the  perfection  of  being ;  and  both  identify 
the  supreme  reality  with  the  supreme  ideal.  But,  whereas 
Plato  never  clearly  distinguished  the  ideal  from  the  universal, 
and  thus  left  room  for  the  supposition  that  he  placed  the 
highest  perfection  in  the  highest  degree  of  universality, 
Aristotle,  on  the  other  hand,  was  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
perfection  is  proportionate  to  determination,  and  that  the 
highest  perfection  is  contained  in  the  highest  determination. 

Again,  while  Plato  rises  up  to  God  by  means  of  a  dialectic, 
which  carried  him  from  one  degree  in  the  Ideas  to  another 
(sensible,  mathematical,  and  absolute  Ideas),  Aristotle  reaches 
the  notion  of  God  by  the  ascent  of  nature,  which  from  stage  to 
stage,  from  form  to  form,  from  type  to  type,  travels  over  the 
whole  scale  of  perfections.  In  a  word,  Plato's  formula  is :  the 
One  and  the  Many  (TO  eV  /ecu  TU  xoXXa) ;  and  that  of  Aristotle 
is  matter  and  form,  or,  more  particularly,  potentiality  and 
actuality  (v\*j,  /u.6p(prj ;  Swa/uts,  evepyeta). 

Aristotle  arrived  at  the  distinction  between  potentiality  and 
actuality  by  his  analysis  of  motion  and  change.  In  every  being 
that  changes  there  is  implied  two  elements :  in  the  first  place, 
the  capacity  of  change,  of  assuming  such  and  such  a  character, 
•of  becoming  this  or  the  other ;  secondly,  the  realization  of  this 
•capacity,  the  acquisition  of  this  character,  the  very  fact  of 
having  become  this  or  that.  On  one  side,  we  have  the  acorn 
which  is  capable  of  becoming  an  oak,  the  child  who  will 
become  a  man:  on  the  other,  we  have  the  oak  itself,  man 
realized.  Thus,  its  form  or  actuality  is  the  very  essence  of  a 
being,  that  which  constitutes  it,  determines  and  distinguishes 
it  from  other  things.  The  form  of  the  marble  when  in  the 
hands  of  the  sculptor  is  Hercules  or  Apollo ;  that  of  a  plant  is 
to  live ;  of  an  animal,  to  feel ;  of  man,  to  think.  Poten- 
tiality aspires  after  actuality. 

This  movement  of  potentiality  towards  actuality  is  desire, 
and  desire  is  the  universal  law  of  nature.  Every  being  desires 
the  degree  of  perfection  which  it  is  capable  of  attaining,  the 
degree  of  reality  of  which  it  is  susceptible ;  in  other  words,  its 
own  actuality.  Actuality  is  therefore  the  end  to  which  it  aspires 
(TO  ov  ei/e/ca).  This  end  is  identical  with  the  good,  for  the  good 
of  each  being  is  to  realize  its  own  potentiality,  to  pass  from 


260  THE   PROBLEMS  X)F   PHILOSOPHY 

potentiality  to  actuality ;  and,  therefore,  the  supremely  perfect 
being  must  be  the  being  whose  whole  potentiality  has  been 
converted  into  actuality.  Nature  is  a  vast  workshop,  in  which 
each  being  is  working  towards  this  transformation,  and 
endeavouring  to  destroy  in  itself  what  is  imperfect,  incomplete, 
and  indeterminate,  in  order  to  increase  the  amount  of  actuality 
of  which  it  is  capable ;  and  above  nature  is  that  pure,  immov- 
able actuality  which  does  not  require  to  pass  from  potentiality 
to  actuality  since  it  is  already  all  actuality,  all  reality,  and  all 
perfection. 

"  But  here,"  says  Aristotle,  "  a  difficulty  arises,  for  it  would  seem  that 
what  energizes  must  subsist  entirely  in  a  state  of  potentiality  ;  but  that 
everything  that  is  endowed  with  capacity  does  not  always  energize. 
Wherefore  we  may  assume  that  potentiality  is  a  thing  that  is  antecedent  to- 
energy.  But  surely,  if  this  be  the  case,  no  one  of  the  entities  would  be  in 
existence  ;  for  it  is  possible  that  a  thing  possesses  a  capacity  of  existence 
and  yet  not  be  in  existence.  And  whether  we  share  the  opinions  of  the 
theologians,  who  are  for  generating  all  things  out  of  night,  or  of  the 
natural  philosophers,  who  say  that  all  things  came  into  being  simul- 
taneously, there  is  the  same  impossibility.  For  how  can  matter  be  put  in 
motion  if  nothing  that  subsists  in  energy  is  a  cause  ?  for  the  matter  of  a 
house,  at  least,  will  not  move  itself,  but  the  builder's  art  will ;  nor  does  the 
earth  move  itself,  but  the  seeds.  Thus  we  see  that  motion  must  have  a 
cause,  and  also  that  the  primary  principle  is  superior  as  a  cause,  otherwise 
we  should  be  obliged  to  say  that  all  things  came  out  of  night  or  chaos  or 
non-being"  (Metaph.  XII,  1071  6,  22).  "Nor  does  he  form  his  opinions 
correctly  who  would  assimilate  the  first  principle  of  the  universe  to  the 
principle  belonging  to  animals  and  plants,  saying  that  from  things 
that  are  indefinite  and  unfinished  there  arise  always  things  that  are 
more  perfect.  .  .  .  For  .  .  .  the  first  principles  are  perfect  from  which 
these  objects  derive  their  original ;  man  begets  man"  (Metaph.  XIV,  Ch.  V), 
"  Those,  however,  who  adopt  the  supposition  (such  as  the  Pythagoreans 
and  Speusippus),  that  what  is  best  and  most  fair  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
principle  of  things,  from  the  fact  that  though  the  first  principles  both  of 
the  plants  and  animals  are  causes,  yet  that  what  is  fair  and  perfect  resides- 
in  created  things  as  results  from  these — persons,  I  say,  who  entertain 
these  sentiments  do  not  form  their  opinions  correctly.  For  seed  arises 
from  other  natures  that  are  antecedent  and  perfect,  and  seed  is  not  the 
first  thing,  whereas  that  which  is  perfect  is  ;  as,  for  example,  the  man  is 
antecedent  to  the  seed  "  (Metaph.  XII,  1072  b,  30). 

Thus  it  is  a  fundamental  principle  with  Aristotle,  and  one 
which  Metaphysics  owes  to  him,  that  the  perfect  does  not 
come  from  the  imperfect,  but  the  imperfect  from  the  perfect. 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     261 

Mythology  had  always  made  the  world  come  out  of  Night, 
and  the  principle  of  love  (ejoeo?)  appears  suddenly  without  any 
reason ;  whereas  it  is  love  that  came  before  Night,  the  active 
before  the  passive  principle,  form  before  matter,  actuality 
before  potentiality. 

In  Aristotle's  philosophy,  there  are,  then,  two  ultimate 
principles.  On  the  one  hand,  the  matter  that  is  nothing  but 
matter,  and  on  the  other,  the  form  that  is  nothing  but  form. 
The  former,  the  materia  prima  (Trpwrrj  v\y),  is  a  pure 
abstraction,  and  is  all  potentiality  without  any  admixture  of 
actuality.  The  latter  is  altogether  actuality  without  any 
potentiality ;  it  is  pure  actuality,  God. 

It  is  impossible  to  form  any  conception  of  this  materia  prima, 
which  of  itself  is  nothing,  has  no  form,  no  determination,  and 
which  yet  is  something,  since,  in  its  successive  transforma- 
tions, it  constitutes  the  substance  of  the  world  ;  but  the 
ancient  philosophers  never  succeeded  in  getting  rid  of  this 
notion  of  a  materia  prima  and  of  the  dualism  which  results 
from  it ;  and  yet  this  matter  is  nothing  in  itself  ;  all  that 
it  is,  all  that  it  becomes,  any  order  and  harmony  and  any 
beauty  it  possesses,  is  due  to  the  action  of  God,  that  is  to  say, 
to  the  pure  actuality,  to  the  absolute  perfection. 

What  is  the  mode  of  operation  of  the  pure  actuality  on 
matter  ?  How  does  it  produce  motion  ?  As  we  have  already 
said,  through  desire  (ope^t^.  The  pure  form  does  not  act 
directly  on  matter,  like  Plato's  demiurgus,  but  only  in  its 
character  of  final  cause,  of  the  supremely  desirable. 

"  This  is  the  way  it  imparts  motion — that  which  is  desirable  and  that 
which  is  intelligible  impart  motion,  whereas  they  are  not  moved  them- 
selves. But  the  originals  of  these  are  the  same  ;  for  the  object  of  a  desire 
is  that  which  appeal's  fair,  and  a  thing  which  is  originally  selected  from 
volition  actually  is  fair.  Now  we  desire  a  thing  because  it  appears  fair, 
rather  than  that  a  thing  appears  fair  because  we  desire  it.  ...  Both 
that  which  is  fair  and  that  which  is  desirable  for  its  own  sake  belong  to 
the  same  co-ordinate  series,  and  that  which  is  first  is  always  the  most 
excellent.  .  .  .  Now  that  which  first  imparts  motion,  does  so  as  a  thing 
that  is  loved.  .  .  .  From  a  principle,  then,  of  this  kind  .  .  .  hath 
depended  (r//3Tr;Tou)  the  Heaven  and  Nature"  (Met.  XII,  1072  a, 25). 

But  this  principle  upon  which  the  whole  of  nature  depends, 
and  which  moves  it  by  means  of  desire — what  is  it  in  itself  ? 


262  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Evidently  it  must  be  that  which  is  the  best  in  itself,  and  for 
Aristotle  what  is  best  in  itself  is  thought. 

"Now,  essential  thought  is  the  thought  of  that  which  is  essentially 
the  most  excellent  .  .  .  the  mind  thinks  itself  .  .  .  becomes  an  object  of 
thought  by  contact,  and  by  an  act  of  intellectual  apprehension.  So  that 
the  mind,  and  that  which  is  an  object  of  thought  for  the  mind  are  the 
same  ;  for  the  faculty  of  perceiving  the  intelligible,  or  substance,  is  what 
constitutes  mind,  and  the  actuality  of  the  mind  is  the  possession  of  th& 
intelligible.  It  is  a  Divine  prerogative  which  the  mind  appears  to- 
possess,  and  which  seems  to  belong  to  the  First  Mover  rather  than  to- 
the  mind  of  man  ;  and  contemplation  constitutes  what  is  most  agree- 
able and  pleasant.  If,  therefore,  God  possesses  eternally  this  felicity 
which  we  only  know  for  a  short  period,  the  Divine  Nature  is  admirable  ; 
and  if  He  possesses  it  in  a  more  eminent  degree,  still  more  admirable 
will  be  the  Divine  Nature.  Now,  His  happiness  is  in  effect  greater  than 
ours.  In  Him  is  the  principle  of  life,  for  the  energy  or  active  exercise 
of  mind  constitutes  life,  and  God  is  this  activity,  and  essential  activity 
belongs  to  God  as  His  best  and  everlasting  life.  Now,  our  statement 
is  this, — that  the  Deity  is  an  animal  that  is  everlasting  and  most 
excellent  in  nature  ;  so  that  with  the  Deity  life  and  duration  are  un- 
interrupted and  eternal  ;  for  this  is  the  very  essence  of  God "  (Ibid. 
XII,  7). 

If  God  is  intelligence,  and  if  life  is  thought — what  does 
He  think  ?  What  are  the  objects  of  the  intelligence  ? 

"  For  if  He  thought  of  nothing  but  was  like  one  who  sleeps,  where,  I 
ask,  would  be  the  dignity  of  such  a  condition  ? "  On  the  other  hand, 
the  object  of  Divine  thought  cannot  be  inferior  things,  for  "it  would 
be  better  not  to  see  some  things  than  to  see  them."  Moreover,  if 
the  object  of  thought  were  something  different  from  itself,  the  mind 
would  be  subordinate  to  this  external  object,  which  would  con- 
sequently be  more  excellent  than  itself.  Thus  it  is  evident  that  God 
cannot  think  anything  else  than  Himself.  And  what  is  He  Himself? 
As  we  have  se'en,  He  is  thought  ;  therefore,  in  thinking  Himself,  He 
thinks  thought,  and  this  is,  in  fact,  His  true  definition  :  He  is  "  the 
thought  of  thought,  «TTIV  rj  VOT^CTIS  vorytrews  vorjms"  (XII,  9). 

This  formula  appears  at  first  to  be  either  contradictory  or 
tautologous,  but  it  becomes  explicable  if  we  regard  thought 
as  having  two  aspects,  an  objective  and  a  subjective ;  on 
the  one  hand,  thought  is  the  intelligible,  and  on  the  other, 
it  is  intelligence.  It  is  the  identity  of  the  intelligible  and 
intelligence ;  this  is  what  Aristotle  means  by  the  thought 
of  thought. 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     263 

We  have  considered  it  necessary  to  dwell  upon  this  great 
theological  system  of  Aristotle,  which  was,  and  still  may  be 
said  to  be,  the  basis  of  every  theodicy,  in  spite  of  the 
additions  made  to  it  by  modern  philosophy.  But  besides 
this  vast  synthesis  of  speculations  in  which  God  is,  as 
it  were,  the  result  of  an  entire  system,  the  Thought  which 
inspires  and  animates,  and,  at  the  same  time,  comprehends 
the  whole,  we  must  also  draw  attention  to  the  fact  that  to 
Aristotle  we  owe  the  first  complete  and  scientific  proof  of 
the  existence  of  God,  that  known  in  the  schools  by  the 
name  of  the  Proof  of  the  First  Mover.  This  proof  was  implied 
in  the  preceding,  but  Aristotle  gave  it  special  treatment  and 
development  in  the  eighth  book  of  his  Physics,  which  is  entirely 
taken  up  with  it.  As  summed  up  by  M.  Ravaisson  (Essai 
sur  la  Mdtaph.  I,  459),  this  proof  runs  as  follows : 

"  Everything  that  is  in  motion  is  moved,  either  by  something  else,  or 
by  itself.  Let  us  suppose  the  former  to  be  the  case.  Given  these  three 
terms  :  the  thing  that  is  moved,  the  mover,  and  the  medium  by  which 
the  mover  moves  the  thing  moved  :  TO  Kivovpevov,  TO  KIVOVV,  /cat 
TO  <5  Kivet.  The  medium  is  a  mover,  since  it  sets  the  thing  moved  in 
motion  ;  but  it  is  also  a  movable  body,  since  it  only  communicates 
motion  ;  therefore,  the  medium  is  only  a  middle  term.  Now,  between 
the  movable  body  and  the  mover,  there  cannot  be  an  infinite  number 
of  middle  terms,  for  the  series  of  causes  cannot  be  infinite  ;  therefore, 
by  following  the  series  of  media  we  must  arrive  at  a  term  which  is 
not  moved  by  any  other.  The  first  characteristic  of  the  first  mover 
is,  therefore,  that  it  is  immovable,  at  least  with  regard  to  anything 
else  but  itself.  If,  therefore,  the  first  mover  were  in  motion,  it  could 
only  be  set  in  motion  by  itself.  But  a  thing  that  moves  itself  cannot 
do  so  entirely,  in  the  same  instant,  and  in  the  same  manner,  for  motion 
is  given  and  received  in  the  same  indivisible  point  of  time.  If,  therefore, 
a  thing  moved  itself  entirely,  one  thing  woiild  be  giving  and  receiving, 
acting  and  suffering  the  same  thing  at  the  same  time,  and  there  would  be 
two  contradictories  existing  at  one  time  and  at  the  same  instant.  The 
thing  moved  is  in  a  state  of  potentiality  ;  the  mover  is  actual  and 
cannot,  therefore,  be  at  the  same  moment  and  in  the  same  sense  both 
potential  and  actual.  Thus,  a  thing  that  moves  itself  must  consist  of 
something  that  moves  and  something  that  is  moved,  and  each  of  these 
two  elements  cannot  be  at  one  time  the  thing  moved  and  at  another 
time  the  thing  that  moves  the  other,  for  this  would  be  a  circle 
Therefore,  the  mover  as  mover  must  itself  necessarily  be  immovable. 
Consequently  there  are  three  kinds  of  movers :  Firstly,  the  mover  that 
imparts  motion  and  is  moved  (natural  things) ;  secondly,  the  mover. 


264  THE  PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

that  is  movable  in  itself,  but  immovable  with  regard  to  the  rest  (the 
fixed  star,  the  first  heaven)  ;  lastly,  the  mover  that  is  immovable,  both 
with  regard  to  itself,  and  with  regard  to  all  other  things,  and  this  is 
God.  The  absolutely  immovable  mover  only  moves  things  by  the  inter- 
mediary of  the  relatively  immovable  mover,  the  fii-st  heaven,  and  this 
it  is  that  moves  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Such  is  the  celebrated  proof  from  the  First  Mover.  It 
may  have  changed  in  form  in  the  schools,  but  nevertheless  it 
remains  in  substance  a  valid  proof,  since  the  truth  remains 
that  motion  does  not  suffice  to  itself,  otherwise  it  would 
devour  itself  as  in  the  theory  of  Heraclitus,  and  that  its 
cause  must  lie  in  some  other  being  which  does  not  move. 

Stoic  Theology  :  Materialistic  Pantheism  ;  The  Argument  of 
Universal  Assent;  Final  Causes;  The  Difficulty  of  the  Exist- 
ence of  Evil  ;  Doctrine  of  the  e-n-iyevvtjimaTa.  Piety  of  the  Stoics. 

The  Stoic  theology,  as  compared  with  that  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  gives  evidence  at  once  of  progress  and  of  retro- 
gression. It  was  inferior  in  this  sense,  that  Plato  and 
Aristotle  placed  the  Divine  above  -the  universe,  higher  than 
nature,  and  that  Metaphysics  with  them  was  distinct  from 
Physics,  whilst  with  the  Stoics  Metaphysics  is  reduced  to 
Physics  :  God  is  identified  with  Nature.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  their  theology  was  an  improvement,  in  that,  leaving 
aside  this  confusion,  the  various  theological  questions  were 
treated  much  more  fully  and  more  accurately  by  the  Stoics  than 
by  any  of  their  predecessors.  Most  of  the  conceptions  which 
we  find  in  modern  works  on  the  metaphysics  of  religion  (e.g.  in 
Fenelon's  Existence  of  God,  and  the  Theodicy  of  Leibnitz)  are  in 
direct  descent  from  the  Stoic  doctrine. 

For  the  Stoics,  Nature  herself  is  God  :  Quid  aliud  est  natura 
quam  Deus  ?  (Senec.  De  Benefic.  IV,  7)  ;  Vis  Deum  naturam 
vocare  ?  non  peccabis  (Quaest.  Natur.  II,  45)  ;  Tanquam  natura 
sit  Deus  tmmdo  permixtus  (Lactant,  Div.  Instit.  VII,  3).  The 
God  of  the  Stoics  is  not,  like  the  God  of  Aristotle,  the 
immovable  mover.  He  is  Himself  the  primum  mobile  (TO 


God  is  a  soul,  a  spirit,  which  pervades  the  whole  world,  and 
fills  every  part  of  it  :  Trvev/ma  Sia  TTOLVTWV  SteXyXvOos  (Origen, 
Cont.  Cels.  VI,  71).  He  is,  as  Heraclitus  said,  fire,  that  is  to 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     265 

say,  the  true  cause  of  motion,  but  He  is  also  an  organizing 
fire  which  proceeds  methodically  to  production  :  -jrvp  TC-^VIKOV 
6§u)  /3a^i^ov  €19  yeveviv  (D.L.  vii,  156).  The  Stoic  doctrine 
was  thus  a  Pantheism,  or,  to  be  more  precise,  a  Cosmotheism, 
that  is  to  say,  a  doctrine  which  deifies  the  world.  It  was, 
moreover,  a  Materialistic  Pantheism,  for  the  Stoics  said  that 
all  things  are  body,  and  that  nothing  exists  except  bodies. 

This  doctrine  of  the  Stoics  shows  us  how  Metaphysics 
had  degenerated  since  the  time  of  Aristotle,  and  yet  it  is  true 
that  we  find  in  the  works  of  the  school  not  only  a  remarkable 
development  of  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  and  of 
Providence,  but  also  in  some  of  them  (e.g.  Cleanthes,  Epictetus, 
Marcus  Aurelius)  evidences  of  a  religious  feeling  of  the  most 
elevated  kind. 

The  Stoics  appear  to  have  been  the  first  to  make  use  of  the 
argument  of  universal  assent,  or  at  least  to  recognize  its 
full  worth.  All  men,  all  nations,  says  Cicero,  agree  in 
acknowledging  the  existence  of  the  Gods.  It  is  a  feeling 
innate  in  man :  Omnibus  innatum  et  in  animo  quasi  insculptum 
esse  Deos  (De  Nat.  Deor.  II,  5).  The  Stoics  also  gave  a  fuller 
development  to  the  proof  of  final  causes  and  of  the  order 
of  nature.  It  was  they  who  pointed  out  the  chief  facts 
upon  which  this  argument  rests,  and  they  were  also  guilty 
of  many  of  the  exaggerations  with  which  it  has  been 
reproached.  The  strongest  of  the  proofs  given  by  Cle- 
anthes, says  Cicero,  is  that  of  the  ordered  movement  of 
the  heavens,  the  distinctness,  variety,  and  beauty  of  the 
arrangement  of  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  all  the  stars.  One  need 
only  look  at  the  heavens  to  see  that  they  were  not  produced 
by  chance :  Quarum  rerum  aspectus  satis  indicat  non  esse  ea 
fortuita  {De  Nat.  Deor.  II,  5).  It  is  the  Stoics  who  appear 
to  have  invented  also  the  argument  that  if  the  twenty-four 
letters  of  the  alphabet  were  thrown  at  random  upon  the  ground 
they  could  not  fall  into  such  order  as  to  form  the  Annals  of 
Ennius  (De  Nat.  Deor.  II,  37).  Again,  it  was  they  who 
discovered  the  examples  which  have  been  so  often  used  to 
prove  that  what  has  order  must  be  the  product  of  intelligence. 

"  As  when  we  enter  a  house  or  school  or  court,  and  observe  the  exact 
order  and  discipline  and  method  of  it,  we  cannot  suppose  that  it  is  so 
regulated  without  a  cause,  but  must  conclude  that  there  is  someone  who 


266  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

commands  and  to  whom  obedience  is  paid  ;  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  avoid 
thinking  that  the  wonderful  motions,  revolutions,  and  order  of  those  many 
great  bodies,  no  part  of  which  is  impaired  by  the  infinite  succession  of 
ages,  must  be  governed  by  some  superior  intelligent  being"  (Ibid.  II, 
Ch.  V). 

They  cited,  too,  the  principle  that  what  is  most  perfect 
cannot  come  out  of  the  less  perfect,  that  if  a  whole  has 
no  feeling,  the  parts  cannot  have  any  feeling  either. 

"...  If  the  plane  tree  could  produce  harmonious  lutes,  surely  you  would 
infer  that  music  was  embalmed  in  the  plane  tree.  Why,  then,  should  we 
not  believe  that  the  world  is  a  living  and  wise  being,  since  it  produces 
living  and  wise  beings  out  of  itself  ?"  (Ibid.  II,  8). 

It  is  true  that  this  reasoning  is  applied  to  the  divinity  of 
the  world  and  not  to  the  existence  of  a  God  distinct  from 
it,  but  it  was  none  the  less  the  origin  of  that  celebrated 
argument  of  Montesquieu :  "  What  could  be  more  absurd  than 
to  suppose  that  a  blind  fate  could  have  produced  intelligent 
beings  !  "  (Esprit  des  Lois,  I,  1). 

The  same  arguments  served  the  Stoics  to  prove  the  Providence 
as  well  as  the  existence  of  God,  who  is  the  divina  providentia 
(Trpovoia)  (see  De  Nat.  Deor.  II,  29,  38).  For  said  they, "  His  first 
care  is  to  provide  so  that  the  world  may  persist  as  long  as 
possible."  Providit  ut  mundus  sit  aptissimus  ad  permanendum, 
and  the  strongest  proof  of  this  divine  action  is  again  to  be 
found  in  the  order  which  exists  in  nature  and  in  particular  in 
final  causes. 

"...  As  the  case  is  made  for  the  buckler,  and  the  scabbard  for  the  sword, 
so  all  things,  except  the  universe,  were  made  for  the  sake  of  something 
else.  As  for  instance  all  those  crops  and  fruits  which  the  earth  produces 
were  made  for  the  sake  of  animals,  and  animals  for  man  ;  as  the  horse 
for  carrying,  the  ox  for  the  plough.  .  .  .  But  man  himself  was  born  to 
contemplate  and  imitate  the  world  "  (Ibid.  II,  14). 

Like  Fenelon  later  they  reviewed  all  parts  of  the  universe 
(Ibid.  II,  39  et  seq.)  :  the  earth  with  all  its  beauties,  the  sea  in  its 
immensity,  the  numberless  species  of  animals,  the  heavens  and 
their  wonders,  the  plants  with  their  exquisitely  ordered  parts. 

"...  They  have  roots  to  sustain  their  stems.  .  .  .  They  are  clothed 
with  a  rind  of  bark  to  secure  them  more  thoroughly  from  heat  or  cold. 
.  .  .  The  animals  are  covered,  some  with  hides,  some  with  fleeces, 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     267 

sonie  with  bristles,  some  with  feathers.  .  .  .  All  their  interior 
parts  are  so  framed  and  so  disposed  that  there  is  nothing  superfluous " 
(II,  47). 

They  likewise  dwelt  on  the  marvellous  operations  of  instinct, 
as  for  example  the  case  of  the  tortoises,  who  scarce  are  horn 
but  that  they  of  themselves  go  to  seek  the  water  they  require. 
They  mentioned  details  similar  to  those  which  are  given  in 
treatises  on  Natural  Theology  in  the  18th  century  (Cic.  De  Nat. 
Deor.  II,  49).  They  argued  also  from  the  faculty  of  repro- 
duction and  from  the  precautions  which  nature  has  taken  to 
ensure  the  nourishment  and  the  preservation  of  the  young, 
and  cite  with  admiration  the  wonders  of  maternal  love. 
Finally,  it  was  they  who  first  developed  a  thesis  which  has 
since  heen  much  criticised,  but  in  which  there  is  nevertheless 
some  truth,  namely,  that  everything  was  made  for  man,  and 
that  he  is  one  of  the  chief  ends  of  nature ;  for,  they  said, 
everything  was  made  for  man  and  the  gods,  and  certainly  not 
for  plants  and  animals.  Ita  jit  credibile  deoncm  et  hominum 
causa  factum  esse  mundum,  quaeque  in  eo  sunt  omnia  (De  Nat. 
Deor.  II,  62  et  seq.). 

But,  like  all  philosophers,  the  Stoics  could  not  avoid  seeing 
that  there  was  a  formidable  objection  to  their  vindication  of 
the  ways  of  Providence,  the  objection,  that  is,  of  the  existence 
of  evil.  And,  here  again,  they  were  the  first,  if  not  to 
state  the  objection  (for  Plato  had  already  done  so),  at  least  to 
suggest  a  means  of  solving  it ;  and  their  solution  is  still  accepted 
in  philosophy.  Chryssipus  attempted  to  justify  Providence  in 
a  work  entitled :  That  there  is  nothing  to  find  fault  with  or  to 
blame  in  the  universe :  Trepl  TOV  /z^ey  eyK\rjTov  eivai  juiySe 
/me/uLTTTov  ev  TW  KOO-/ULM  (Plut.  De  Repug.  Stoic.  37,  1).  He  main- 
tained that  natural  evil  was  only  an  accident  and  had  only 
supervened  subsequently,  ex  consecutione,  /cara  TrapaKoXovQ^iv 
per  quasdam  sequelas  (Aulus  Gellius,  Nodes  Atticae,  VII,  1,  7). 
Marcus  Aurelius  (VI,  36)  said  similarly  that  evils  were 
€Triy€vvTi]iJ.aTa  rcov  a-ejmvwv  KCU  Ka\S)v ;  sort  of  excrescences  of 
good  and  evil : 

"  It  was  not,"  said  the  Stoics,  "  nature's  intention  that  men  should  be 
subject  to  diseases,  but  while  creating  a  large  number  of  things  beautiful 
or  useful,  it  was  found  that  a  certain  number  were  attached  to  them. 
Alia  simul  agnata  incommoda"  (Aulus  Gellius,  Ibid.). 


268  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

This  is  very  much  what  Leibnitz  says  when  he  affirms  that 
God  permitted  evil  not  by  an  antecedent  volition,  but  by  a 
consequent  volition. 

Notwithstanding  their  Pantheism,  it  is  among  the  Stoics 
that  we  find  the  most  beautiful  examples  of  religious  feeling 
and  true  piety  in  antiquity.  As  an  example  of  this,  nothing 
could  be  finer  than  the  Hymn  of  Clean thes  to  Zeus. 

"  In  this  Hymn  Zeus  is  addressed  as  highest  of  the  gods,  having  many 
names,  always  omnipotent  .  .  .  governing  all  things  by  law.  '  Thee,' 
continues  the  poet,  '  it  is  lawful  for  all  mortals  to  address,  for  we  are  thy 
offspring  and  alone  of  all  living  creatures  possess  a  voice  which  is  the 
image  of  reason.  Therefore,  I  will  forever  sing  thee  and  celebrate  thy 
power,  etc.'"  (The  Ancient  Stoics,  by  Sir  Alex.  Grant.  Oxford  Essays, 
1858). 

With  the  later  Stoics,  as  for  example  Epictetus  and  Marcus 
Aurelius,  this  piety  appears  in  a  form  that  touches  us  even 
more,  and  comes  near  to  the  highest  religious  feeling : 

"  Deal  with  me,  Lord,  according  to  Thy  will.  ...  I  am  resigned  to  Thy 
laws  and  Thy  will  is  my  will.  In  all  things  I  will  praise  Thy  works  and 
Thy  benefits.  ...  If  my  daily  good  should  fail  me  I  shall  know  that  my 
General  commands  me  to  sound  the  retreat.  Him  will  I  obey  ;  Him  will 
I  follow  ;  His  will  I  shall  approve  and  praise,  for  when  I  came  here  it 
was  because  He  willed  it ;  I  have  glorified  His  name,  for  such  was  my 
function  towards  myself,  towards  each  man  and  all  men." 

The  Alexandrian  Theology :  The  Three  Hypostases ;  The 
Doctrine  of  Procession  ;  Descent  and  Return  ;  Ecstasy. 

The  Stoic  school  had  identified  God  with  life  or  the  world- 
soul  ;  Aristotle  had  defined  God  by  intelligence,  and  placed  Him 
above  the  world  ;  Plotinus,  the  founder  of  the  last  great  Greek 
school,  the  Neo- Platonic  or  Alexandrian  school,  combined  and 
adopted  the  conceptions  of  both  the  Stoics  and  Aristotle,  but 
above  them  all,  he  set  a  principle  borrowed  from  Plato,  that 
of  the  One  who  is  higher  than  intelligence  and  higher  than  the 
soul.  Thus  the  school  of  Alexandria  accepted  a  threefold  God, 
a  God  composed  of  three  principles  or  hypostases ;  in  a  word,  a 
Trinity.  But  there  is  a  fundamental  difference  between  their 
Trinity  and  the  Christian  Trinity.  In  the  latter  the  three 
Persons  (who  are  also  called  in  Greek  hypostases)  are  equal  to 
one  another,  and  form  one  and  the  same  God  in  three 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  KELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     269 

Persons.  In  the  Alexandrian  Trinity  the  hypostases  are  not 
equal ;  there  is  a  fall,  a  descent  from  the  One  to  Mind,  from 
Mind  to  Soul.  God  is  one,  indeed,  but  He  is  composed  of 
different  elements  which  represent  a  progressive  diminution  in 
His  excellence.  In  the  Christian  doctrine  God  is;  in  the 
Alexandrian  doctrine  God  radiates  and  develops,  not  in 
the  sense  of  the  less  perfect  becoming  more  perfect,  but  in  an 
inverse  sense,  in  an  unbroken  descent  from  absolute  excellence 
to  the  lowest  degree  of  being. 

The  Neo-Platonic  principle  of  divine  development  is  thus  the 
principle  of  procession  (TrpooSos),  or  of  the  descent  from  higher 
to  lower  principles ;  but  the  essential  characteristic  of  this 
procession  is  that  the  higher  principle  flows  into  the  lower 
without  losing  anything  of  its  own  essence. 

"  God  does  not,  as  the  Stoics  said,  pass  into  things.  He  does 
not  give  them  part  of  Himself,  He  communicates  Himself  to  them, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  He  Himself  preserves  His  original  integrity. 
What  comes  from  God  is  not  the  result  of  separation,  but  of  exten- 
sion. He  gives,  for  instance,  knowledge,  which  may  be  communicated 
without  being  exhausted,  which  is  used  by  him  who  receives  it,  with- 
out leaving  Him  who  gives  it,  the  torch  which  kindles  another  without 
losing  its  own  light.  It  is  characteristic  of  spiritual  existence  that 
it  can  be  communicated  without  being  diminished.  In  short,  Neo- 
Platonism  has  a  threefold  basis  :  the  theory  of  the  three  divine  principles 
or  archical  hypostases;  the  One,  the  Intelligence,  the  Soul, — three 
principles  which  are  connected  with  one  another  by  the  conception  of 
incorporeal  communication.  Of  these  three  principles,  the  lowest,  or 
world-soul,  is  God  as  the  Stoics  had  conceived  Him.  The  second, 
Intelligence,  is  the  God  of  Aristotle  ;  finally,  the  supreme  principle,  the 
One,  is  the  God  of  Plato.  Here  we  have  the  three  principles  of  the 
three  great  doctrines  of  Greek  philosophy,  in  the  self-same  order  as  that 
in  which  these  principles  succeed  each  other  in  history  "  (Ravaisson,  Essai 
our  la  Mdt.  cPAristote,  Vol.  II,  p.  382). 

In  short,  three  hypostases,  each  of  which  is  to  the  one 
below  it  what  unity  is  to  multiplicity,  and  the  highest  of  which 
is  the  One  itself,  the  absolute  One  ;  hypostases  which  are  so 
connected  that  each  stands  to  the  one  that  follows  in  the  same 
relation  as  a  centre  to  its  radii ;  a  divine  centre,  which  is 
multiplied,  in  a  manner,  in  its  radii,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
never  ceases  to  remain  whole  in  itself — such  is  the  general 
plan  of  the  doctrine  of  Plotinus  (Ibid.  p.  429). 


270 

This  doctrine  is  a  form  of  Pantheism,  for  Plotinus  accepts 
no  existence  except  that  of  God ;  but  it  is  not  a  Pantheism  in 
which  God  is  absorbed  in  the  world,  since  each  principle, 
while  it  develops  downward,  remains  in  itself  unalterable. 
Thus,  the  soul  remains  distinct  from  the  body,  although  it  is 
the  essence  of  the  body  ;  the  universal  soul  remains  distinct 
from  individual  souls,  although  the  latter  are  merely  emana- 
tions of  the  former.  In  the  same  way,  Intelligence  does 
not  become  identical  with  the  Soul,  nor  the  Soul  with 
Intelligence. 

This  being  the  case,  in  what  sense  is  the  Alexandrian 
doctrine  a  Pantheism  ?  In  this,  that  in  it  God  evolves 
naturally,  and  not  by  His  own  will.  For,  to  suppose  that  the 
procession  of  the  highest  principle  was  the  effect  of  will,  and 
not  of  nature,  would  be  to  suppose  the  existence  in  God 
of  desire,  and  hence  of  deficiency ;  and  how  could  perfection 
itself  lack  anything  ?  In  the  second  place,  will  implies 
motion,  but  the  One  is  immovable,  therefore  it  is  not  by  a  free 
act  of  will  that  the  first  principle  gives  birth  to  the  second, 
but  by  its  very  essence  (Enneads,  III,  ii,  2).  So  an  odorous 
substance  sheds  its  perfume ;  so  fire  emits  heat,  and  the  snow 
cold;  so  the  sun  sends  forth  rays  of  light,  and  the  cup  being 
too  full  overflows  (Enneads,  V,  i,  6  ;  ii,  1 — see  Ravaisson,  p.  434). 

Just  as  all  things  come  from  the  One,  so  do  all  things 
return  to  it.  Descent  and  return  are  the  two  laws  of  the 
divine  movement.  This  double  movement  explains  every- 
thing and  is  itself  the  alternation  of  expansion  and  concentra- 
tion, from  absolute  unity  to  infinite  multiplicity  and  from 
multiplicity  to  unity.  This  return  to  the  divine  is  brought 
about  in  the  soul  by  unification  with  God  (eV&xrtf) ;  by  ecstasy 
(eWrao-f?),  that  is  to  say,  by  its  being  transported  out  of  self 
and  absorbed  in  God. 

This,  then,  was  the  end  of  ancient  theology.  Having  started 
from  a  world  that  was  the  All,  it  reached  a  God  Who  was  the 
All.  From  the  Cosmic  Pantheism  of  the  Ionics  it  rose  to  the 
Idealistic  Pantheism  of  Plato,  and  then  returned  to  the  Stoic 
Hylozoism,  only  to  become  finally  engulfed  in  the  Mystical 
Pantheism  of  Plotinus.  Now  it  was  that  Christian  theology, 
boldly  separating  God  from  the  world  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
creation  CM  nikilo,  gave  Him  an  immutable  place  above  nature, 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     271 

and  allowing  no  necessary  existence  to  nature,  assigned 
God's  will  and  freedom  as  the  cause  of  the  development  of  the 
universe  which  the  Alexandrians  had  ascribed  to  the  Divine 
essence  and  to  the  nature  of  things. 

The  Religious  Problem  in  the  Middle  Ayes. 

Mediaeval  philosophy  sprang  from  two  sources :  on  the  one 
hand,  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle ;  on  the  other  hand,  Christian 
philosophy,  whose  chief  representative  is  St.  Augustine. 
Christian  philosophy  in  its  turn  consists  of  two  elements — 
Platonism  and  Christianity.  The  groundwork  of  Christian 
theodicy  is  borrowed  from  Plato,  but  two  new  doctrines  were 
added — the  doctrine  of  Creation  and  of  the  Trinity. 

St.  Augustine :  Analogy  between  Platonism  and  Christianity; 
Features  Peculiar  to  Christian  Theology;  The  Trinity  and  the 
Creation  ex  nihilo. 

"We  shall  begin  by  pointing  out  the  points  of  resemblance 
between  St.  Augustine  and  Plato  (see  Emile  Saisset,  Intr.  to  the 
CiU  de  Dieu).  (1)  The  world  is  the  result  of  God's  goodness. 
Plato  said,  "  Being  free  from  jealousy  He  desired  that  all 
things  should  be  as  like  Himself  as  they  could  be."  St. 
Augustine  quotes  in  the  same  sense  the  text  in  Genesis — "  God 
saw  that  it  was  good."  "  God  made  all  things  by  his  word, 
and  he  made  them  because  they  were  good  "  (Civ.  Dei,  IX,  20). 
(2)  To  St.  Augustine  as  to  Plato,  time  is  an  image  of  eternity : 
"  All  Thy  years,  0  Lord,  are  but  as  one  day,"  and  according 
to  Plato  also,  "  God  makes  of  eternity,  which  rests  in  unity, 
that  eternal  but  divisible  image,  which  we  call  time."  (3) 
Plato  taught  that  time  and  the  world  were  created  at  the  same 
time.  So  also  St.  Augustine :  "  It  cannot  be  denied  that  time 
itself  was  created."  (4)  Plato  as  well  as  St.  Augustine  con- 
siders that  evil  is  merely  the  negation  of  good,  and  that  it 
disappears  entirely  when  things  are  regarded  as  a  whole  (Civ. 
Dei,  XI,  xxii ;  XII,  iv).  (5)  Both  hold  the  supreme  Good  to 
be  the  imitation  of  God.  "  Let  all  philosophers  yield  to  the 
Platonists  who  teach  that  happiness  lies  not  in  the  pleasures 
of  body  or  mind,  but  in  the  enjoyment  of  God  "  (Civ.  Dei,  VIII 
viii).  (6)  The  theory  of  expiation,  in  which  happiness  is  con- 
nected with  virtue,  and  misery  with  vice,  is  also  common  to 


272  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

both  philosophers.  Evil  came  from  man,  God  foreseeing  it, 
permitted  it,  and  by  His  Providence  turns  evil  into  good  (Plato, 
Laws,  Bk.  X ;  St.  Aug.  Civ.  Dei,  XII,  vi ;  V,  i  and  x ;  VIII). 

These  are  the  principles  common  to  Platonism  and  Christian 
Philosophy ;  let  us  now  see  in  what  they  differ. 

Firstly  the  creation  ex  nihilo.  At  the  dawn  of  Greek 
Philosophy,  the  world  was  first  considered  as  existing  of  itself. 
Philosophers  began  to  look  about  for  the  material  principle 
out  of  whicli  it  was  evolved  (water,  air,  fire).  Then  a  distinc- 
tion was  made  between  matter  and  a  motor  principle  (love  and 
hate).  Next  an  organizing  principle  was  invented  (the  vow  of 
Anaxagoras). 

With  Socrates  and  Plato  the  principle  of  intelligence  became 
more  and  more  distinct  from  matter,  and  with  Aristotle  is 
entirely  separated  from  it.  Matter,  however,  continued  to  exist 
conjointly  with  the  organizing  principle ;  but  this  matter 
became  less  and  less  significant.  Instead  of  being  chaos  or  a 
complete  mixture  of  all  corporeal  substances,  it  wTas  now  no 
more  than  the  passive  principle  of  the  universe,  the  purely 
potential,  the  indefinite,  indeterminate,  TO  aopicrrov.  Plato 
had  even  called  it  the  Non-being,  and  appeared  sometimes 
to  identify  it  with  space,  or  the  void.  To  arrive  at  the 
doctrine  of  creation,  it  only  remained  to  make  of  this  relative 
Non-being  an  absolute  Non-being,  in  fact  to  make  it  disappear. 
The  God  of  the  Timaeus  was  still  a  demiurgus,  or  a  God  who 
was  architect  or  organizer ;  the  Christian  God  is  a  creating  God. 
"  How  didst  Thou  make  heaven  and  earth  ?  "  says  St.  Augustine, 
".  .  .  it  was  not  as  a  human  worker  fashioning  body  from 
body  .  .  .  nor  didst  Thou  hold  anything  in  Thy  hand  where- 
with to  make  heaven  and  earth.  For  whence  couldst  Thou 
have  what  Thou  hadst  not  made  whereof  to  make  anything  ? 
Therefore  Thou  didst  speak  and  they  were  made,  and  in  Thy 
Word  Thou  madest  these  things  "  (Conf.  XI,  v). 

And  as  God  creates  the  world  out  of  nothing,  so  also  did 
He  create  it  directly  and  without  intermediate  agents.  On 
this  point  St.  Augustine  separates  himself  from  Plato,  who  in 
the  Timaeus  relates  that  the  world  was  created  by  secondary 
gods,  under  the  direction  of  the  sovereign  God,  as  if  it  were 
beneath  His  dignity  to  put  His  own  hand  to  the  task.  The 
gods  and  the  angels  are  not  the  creators  of  animals  any  more 


than  the  labourers  are  the  creators  of  the  crops  and  the  trees 
(De  Civ.  Dei,  XII,  xxiii).  Finally,  God  creates  out  of  good- 
ness and  munificence,  and  not  because  He  has  need  of  creatures. 
Before  He  created  things  He  wanted  nothing,  and  in  creating 
them  He  added  nothing  to  His  nature. 

"  What,  therefore,  could  there  be  wanting  unto  Thy  good,  which  Thou 
Thyself  art,  although  these  things  had  never  been  .  .  .  the  which 
Thou  madest  not  out  of  any  want,  but  out  of  the  plenitude  of  Thy  good- 
ness ?  .  .  .  For  to  Thee,  being  perfect,  their  imperfection  is  displeasing, 
and  therefore  were  they  perfected  by  Thee,  and  were  pleasing  unto 
Thee  ;  but  not  as  if  Thou  wert  imperfect,  and  wert  to  be  perfected  in 
their  perfection  "  (Confessions,  XIII,  iv). 

The  theory  of  creation  involves  a  serious  difficulty.  Since 
God  is  eternal  and  immutable,  His  acts  must  be  eternal  and 
immutable,  and  it  would  seem  to  follow  that  the  creation 
must  have  existed  from  all  eternity ;  but  does  not  a  creation 
that  is  eternal  appear  to  contradict  the  very  idea  of  creation  ? 
On  the  other  hand,  does  not  creation  in  time  appear  to 
presuppose  the  existence  in  God  of  two  wills,  one  by  which 
He  did  not  create  the  world,  and  the  other  by  which  He 
did  ?  Furthermore,  in  the  indefinite  series  of  centuries,  why 
should  He  have  created  the  world  at  one  time  rather  than  at 
another,  and  what  was  God  doing  before  He  created  ?  To  these 
objections  St.  Augustine  replies  by  boldly  propounding  a  new 
theory — that  of  the  creation  of  time. 

"  Although  we  believe  that  at  the  beginning  of  time  God  made  heaven 
and  earth,  we  must  nevertheless  know  that  before  the  beginning  of  time 
there  was  no  time.  .  .  .  For  God  is  also  the  maker  of  all  times.  .  .  . 
For  how  could  there  be  a  time  that  was  not  made  by  God,  since  He 
Himself  is  the  maker  of  all  time  ?  And  if  time  began  to  be  with  heaven 
and  earth  we  cannot  find  a  time  when  God  had  not  yet  made  heaven  and 
earth.  .  .  .  Time  is  not  eternal  as  God  is  eternal "  (De  Genesi,  contra 
Manichaeos,  I,  ii).  "Who  can  fail  to  perceive  that  time  would  not  be 
unless  there  were  some  created  things  whose  successive  movements,  which 
could  not  exist  simultaneously,  make  intervals  of  different  lengths  ?  And 
this  is  what  constitutes  time.  .  .  .  Now  before  the  world  was,  there 
can  have  been  no  time,  because  there  was  then  no  created  thing  by 
whose  movements  time  could  have  been  measured.  Therefore  the 
world  was  created  with  time  since  motion  was  created  with  the  world" 
(De  Civ.  Dei,  XI,  vi). 

The  second  doctrine  peculiar  to  Christian  theodicy  is  that  of 

II.  S 


-™-*^^ 


274  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

the  Trinity.  No  doubt  the  Trinity  is  a  mystery  and  a  dogma, 
and  as  such  belongs  rather  to  theology  proper,  but  the  Fathers 
of  the  Church  and  St.  Augustine  himself  frequently  made  use 
of  philosophical  and  metaphysical  considerations  in  order  to 
facilitate  the  comprehension  of  this  mysterious  dogma.  Thus 
St.  Augustine  finds  an  image  of  the  Trinity  in  all  created 
things,  and  especially  in  the  human  soul. 

"All  the  created  things  which  divine  art  has  produced  manifest  in  them- 
selves a  certain  unity,  and  form,  and  order.  For  every  created  thing  has 
a  kind  of  unity,  so  bodies  have  their  nature  and  the  soul  has  spirit ;  every 
created  thing,  moreover,  adapts  itself  to  a  certain  form,  so  bodies  adapt 
themselves  to  figures  and  qualities,  and  souls,  to  sciences  and  arts  ;  and 
thus  it  is  that  we  find  in  bodies  weight  and  situation,  and  in  souls  love 
and  joy.  There  is  no  nature,  no  substance,  but  we  see  in  it  at  once  these 
three  things  :  first,  that  it  is  ;  secondly,  that  it  is  in  such  or  such  a 
manner  ;  thirdly,  that  it  exists  inasmuch  as  God  is  in  it.  The  first  quality 
manifests  the  very  cause  of  nature  whence  all  things  spring  ;  the  second 
manifests  the  form  according  to  which  all  things  are  disposed  and 
organized  ;  the  third  manifests  a  permanence  in  the  bosom  of  which  all 
things  dwell.  Now,  being  comes  from  the  Father  ;  form  from  the  Son  ; 
and  permanence  from  the  Holy  Ghost." 

In  the  soul  these  three  qualities  are  revealed  in  another 
form,  but  are  still  an  image  of  the  Trinity. 

"  I  could  wish  that  men  would  consider  these  three  things  that  are  in 
themselves.  These  three  are  far  other  than  the  Trinity  ;  but  I  speak  of 
things  in  which  the  many  exercise  and  prove  themselves,  and  feel  how  far 
other  they  be.  But  the  three  things  I  speak  of  are,  to  Be,  to  Know,  and 
to  Will.  For  I  Am,  I  Know,  and  I  Will ;  I  Am  Knowing  and  Willing  ; 
and  I  Know  myself  to  Be  and  to  Will ;  and  I  Will  to  Be  and  to  Know.  In 
these  three,  therefore,  let  him  who  can  see  how  inseparable  a  life  there 
is, — even  one  life,  one  mind,  and  one  essence  ;  finally,  how  inseparable  is 
the  distinction,  and  yet  it  is  a  distinction"  (Conf.  XIII,  xi)» 

This  mediaeval  theodicy  was  formed,  then,  out  of  some 
elements  which  were  not  new,  since  they  were  derived 
from  Aristotle  and  Plato,  and  other  elements,  which  were 
furnished  principally  by  St.  Augustine.  We  shall,  as  is 
usual  in  treatises  on  natural  theology,  divide  the  subject 
into  two  parts :  firstly,  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God ; 
secondly,  the  nature  of  God ;  and  we  shall  trace  the  history 
of  these  two  questions  separately. 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS     275 

Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  God  given  in  the  Middle  Ages : 
"  Via  Eminentiae  "  ;  "  Via  Aseitatis  "  ;  A  Priori  Argument 
or  the  Argument  of  St.  Anselm  ;  Objections  made  by  Gaunilo. 

In  the  Middle  Ages  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  were 
classed  under  two  heads,  and  the  methods  employed  reduced 
to  two,  the  first  of  which  was  called  the  via  eminentiae,  and 
the  second,  the  via  aseitatis.  The  first  method  consists  in 
reasoning  from  the  evidences  of  perfection  to  be  found  in  the 
world  to  absolute  perfection.  This  was  a  semi -empirical 
method.  In  the  second,  the  essence  of  God  Himself  was 
made  the  starting  point  whence  His  existence  was  inferred, 
and  this  was  a  purely  rational  or  a  priori  method.  These  two 
proofs  were  presented  in  their  most  perfect  and  impressive 
form  by  the  celebrated  Anselm  of  Canterbury,  who  borrowed 
the  first  from  Plato,  but  was  himself  the  author  of  the  second. 

"  Even  as  what  is  just  is  so  only  through  the  presence  of  justice,  so 
what  is  good  is  so  only  because  of  the  presence  of  goodness.  Now, 
who  can  doubt  that  that  through  which  things  are  good  is  the 
Supreme  Good  ?  It  is,  therefore,  necessary  that  there  exists  a  Being 
supremely  great  and  supremely  good,  that  is  to  say  the  summum  of 
all  existing  things,  maximum  et  optimum,  id  est  summum  omnium  quae 
sunt"  (Monologium,  ch.  I). 

The  same  idea  is  more  precisely  expressed  by  Albertus 
Magnus  and  Thomas  Aquinas  (Compend.  Theologic.  Verit.  c.  1). 

"  All  creatures,"  says  Albertus,  "  cry  out  to  us  that  there  is  a  God  ; 
for  the  beauties  of  the  world  bear  witness  to  a  supreme  beauty,  its 
sweets  to  a  supreme  sweetness,  what  is  highest  in  it  to  something 
higher  than  all,  what  is  pure  to  purity  itself.  Pulchra  pulcherrimum, 
dulcia  dulcissimum,  sublimia  altissimum,  pura  purissimiim" 

Aquinas  dwells  on  the  fact  of  comparison  and  degrees  in 
things,  and  shows  that,  for  this  comparison  to  be  possible,  there 
must  be  an  absolute  as  unit  of  measure. 

"  Things,"  he  says,  "  are  good,  and  true,  and  noble  in  a  greater  or 
lesser  degree.  But  that  they  have  more  or  less  can  only  be  said  of  things 
according  as  they  are  nearer  or  further  from  something  that  is  absolute. 
There  exists,  therefore,  some  Being  which  is  in  regard  to  all  things  the 
cause  of  their  beauty  and  perfection,  and  this  is  what  we  call  God" 
(Summa  Theolog.  I,  q.  2"). 

Again,  Alexander  of  Hales  says:  "If  there  were  no  Sovereign 
Good,  no  Absolute  Good,  there  might  still  be  black  and  white, 


276  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

but  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  good"  (Summa  Tlieoloy.  I, 
q.  3,  a.  9). 

These  conceptions  were  all  derived  from  Plato  through  the 
medium  of  St.  Augustine,  but  there  is  a  celebrated  proof 
which  belongs  peculiarly  to  the  Middle  Ages,  the  so-called 
a  priori  proof  of  the  existence  of  God,  or  the  Ontological 
argument. 

In  the  construction  of  this  argument  which  bears  his  name, 
St.  Anselm  sets  out  from  the  idea  that  in  order  to  prove  the 
existence  of  God  to  atheists,  one  must  meet  them  on  a  common 
ground,  that  is,  one  must  start  from  a  principle  which  is 
accepted  on  all  sides.  This  principle  is  the  mere  conception 
of  God ;  for  what  atheists  deny  is  not  the  conception  of  God, 
but  His  existence,  and  they  must  be  able  to  conceive  what 
they  deny.  The  idea  of  God,  or  the  definition  of  God,  may 
then  be  admitted  with  common  consent,  both  by  those  who 
believe  in  God  and  by  those  who  do  not.  If,  therefore,  from 
this  idea  itself  it  were  possible  by  pure  reasoning  to  deduce 
existence,  we  should  have  a  truly  necessary  demonstration  of 
the  existence  of  God. 

Having  laid  down  this  postulate,  Anselm  takes  for  granted 
the  following  definition :  God  is  a  being  of  such  a  nature  that 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  any  greater.  From  this  definition 
he  draws  the  following  conclusion : 

"This  good,  which  is  such  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  any 
greater,  cannot  exist  in  the  mind  only  ;  for  were  it  so,  it  would  be 
possible  to  conceive  a  good  that  was  yet  greater,  namely,  one  which 
would  exist  not  only  in  the  mind,  but  in  reality.  If  we  can  conceive 
a  good  which  we  are  unable  to  conceive  as  being  without  existence,  this 
good  would  be  greater  than  one  we  are  able  to  conceive  as  being  without 
existence,  therefore  the  latter,  contrary  to  our  definition,  would  not  be  the 
greatest  good  conceivable  "  (Proslogium,  Ch.  II). 

Even  in  the  Middle  Ages,  there  were  many  who  opposed  this 
argument.  The  monk  Gaunilo  wrote  a  work  against  St. 
Anselm's  theory  which  contains  the  germs  of  all  the  criticisms 
made  in  modern  times  by  Gassendi  and  Kant  (Gaunilo,  Liber 
pro  insipiente).  He  begins  by  questioning  whether  we  have 
within  us  the  idea  of  God.  in  other  words,  whether  God  exists 
in  the  mind, — which  was  the  major  premiss  of  the  argument ; 
then  he  asks  whether,  because  we  have  the  idea  of  God,  it  is 


permissible  to  infer  from  this  that  God  exists  objectively  and  in 
reality.  These  two  objections  cover  the  whole  argument.  As 
regards  the  first  point,  his  dilemma  runs  thus  :  Either  God 
exists  in  the  mind  after  the  manner  of  other  things  which  may 
be  true,  or  false,  or  doubtful,  or  He  exists  in  the  mind  in  such 
a  way  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  Him  without  conceiving 
Him  at  the  same  time  as  existing.  In  the  first  case  nothing  can 
be  inferred  as  to  His  existence ;  since  ex  hypothesi  it  would  be  the 
same  with  Him  as  with  other  things,  which  may  or  may  not 
exist.  In  the  second  case,  what  had  to  be  proved  is  assumed 
in  the  principle,  and  the  distinction  which  was  our  starting 
point,  that  is,  the  distinction  between  God  and  His  existence, 
has  been  abandoned. 

He  then  proceeds  to  attack  directly  the  major  premiss  of 
the  argument,  and  affirms  that  we  have  not  the  idea  of  God : 
"  For,"  says  he,  "  the  thing  which  is  God  I  cannot  know  in 
itself,  and  I  cannot  form  an  idea  of  it  from  analogy,  since 
it  is  precisely  its  essence  that  there  is  nothing  analogous 
to  it."  He  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  God  is  merely  a 
sound,  litterarium  sonitum. 

As  regards  the  argument  itself,  Gaunilo,  using  an  ingenious 
comparison,  brings  forward  the  following  objection  : 

"  Truth  is  one  thing  and  thought  is  another.  Hence,  although  it  is  true 
that  I  can  conceive  something  which  is  such  that  I  cannot  conceive  any- 
thing greater,  this  truth  heard  and  understood  is  so  far  merely  like  a 
picture  not  yet  painted,  which  only  exists  in  the  mind  of  the  painter." 

"  I  conceive,"  says  he,  "  a  happy  isle  full  of  delights,  such  an  island  that 
one  cannot  conceive  one  more  beautiful.  What  follows  from  this  ?  That 
the  island  exists  in  reality  since  it  exists  in  the  mind  ;  for  if  such  an  island 
(which  is  such  that  I  cannot  conceive  one  more  beautiful)  did  not  exist  in 
reality,  I  could  conceive  another  that  was  more  beautiful  still,  an  island, 
that  is,  which  did  really  exist." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  St.  Anselm  did  not  think  fit  to 
refute  this  ingenious  objection.  He  only  replied  to  the  first, 
namely,  that  we  have  not  the  idea  of  God.  "  Do  you  mean 
that  we  have  not  a  complete  knowledge  of  God  as  He  is  ?  This 
I  grant,  but  what  follows  ?  Because  we  cannot  look  at  the  sun 
does  it  follow  that  we  are  blind  ?  Every  imperfect  thing  implies 
something  that  is  more  perfect ;  there  must  therefore  be  some- 
thing which  is  absolutely  perfect,  so  that  there  is  nothing  more 


278  THE  PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

perfect."  St.  Anselm  complains,  moreover,  that  Gaunilo  altered 
his  argument  when  he  accused  him  of  a  petitio  principii  which 
only  exists  in  his  opponent's  proof  and  not  in  his  own  (Em. 
Saisset,  De  varia  argumenti  Anselmi  fortund). 

But  it  was  not  only  a  more  or  less  recusant  monk  who 
pronounced  against  St.  Anselm's  argument ;  some  of  the 
greatest  authorities  in  scholastic  philosophy  were  opposed  to 
it,  the  first  in  importance  among  these  being  Thomas  Aquinas. 

"  Granted,"  he  says, "  that  a  person  understands  this  word  God  to  signify 
something  so  great  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  anything  greater,  it 
does  not  follow  that  by  this  he  understands  that  what  this  word  signifies 
exists  in  reality,  for  as  yet  it  only  exists  in  the  apprehension  of  his 
understanding." 

And,  laying  hold  of  the  weak  point  in  Anselm's  argument, 
he  makes  the  following  profound  remark : 

"  Since  God  is  His  own  real  being,  and  since  His  essence  is  hidden  from 
us  (cum  quod  sit  nos  lateat),  the  proposition  '  God  is '  is  no  doubt  known 
of  itself,  but  it  is  known  in  itself,  and  not  in  any  relation  to  us." 

Thomas  Aquinas,  carrying  the  same  idea  further,  says,  even 
more  clearly  (Summa  contra  Gentiles  I,  11): 

"  Just  as  to  us  it  is  evident  that  the  whole  is  greater  than  its  parts,  so 
to  those  who  see  the  Divine  essence  as  it  is,  the  truth  is  self-evident  that 
God  is,  seeing  that  His  essence  is  His  existence.  But  as  we  are  not  able  to 
see  the  essence,  we  can  never  succeed  in  knowing  Him  in  His  essence, 
but  only  through  His  effects." 

We  may  say,  then,  that  in  general  the  Schools  were  against 
the  Ontological  argument.  Gerson  even  says,  Nescio  quis 
insipientior  sit,  an  is  qui  putat  hoc  sequi  (Deum,  si  est  in 
intellectu,  esse  et  in  re)  an  insipie-ns  qui  dixit  in  corde  suo :  Non 
est  Deus  (see  Saisset,  p.  34).  Duns  Scotus  also  pronounces  against 
the  argument  (D.  Scoti,  Opera  IV,  Quaest.  supra  Metaph.  I,  9,  12). 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  defended  by  Bonaventura  and  Henry 
of  Ghent  (see  Saisset,  p.  35). 

Other  Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  God :  Impossibility  of  an 
Infinite  Chain  of  Causes  ;  Proof  "  a  contingentia  mundi  "  ;  Proof 
of  a  First  Mover  ;  Proof  from  Final  Causes;  Proof  by  the  Idea 
of  Perfection. 

Generally  speaking,  most  of  the  other  known  proofs  of  the 
existence  of  God  are  to  be  found  in  mediaeval  works. 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS    279 

1.  The  impossibility  of  an  infinite  chain  of  causes : 

Given  a  thing  that  is  caused,  it  must  have  been  caused  either  by  noth- 
ing, or  by  itself,  or  some  other  thing.  That  it  was  caused  by  nothing  is 
impossible,  for  nothing  causes  nothing,  therefore  it  must  be  caused  by 
some  other  thing.  Let  us  call  this  term  A ;  if  A  is  not  first  cause  it  must 
be  an  efficient  second  cause,  that  is  to  say,  a  cause  which  is  only  efficient  by 
virtue  of  some  other  thing.  Let  this  other  efficient  cause  be  B.  We 
shall  reason  about  B  in  the  same  way  as  about  A,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 
But  an  infinite  regression  is  impossible  ;  therefore  there  must  be  a  first 
necessary  cause,  which,  having  no  antecedent,  can  at  no  time  be  posterior 
to  itself ;  for  that  there  should  be  a  circle  in  the  series  of  causes  is  contra- 
dictory (Duns  Scotus,  Sentent.  I,  dist.  2,  q.  2). 

Ockam  upholds  the  same  argument,  but  in  his  demonstration 
there  is  one  important  point  to  be  noticed  :  in  order  to  avoid 
an  infinite  regression,  he  dwells,  like  Descartes,  more  on 
the  conservation  of  the  Universe  by  God  than  on  its  production, 
because  while  the  one  conception  requires  an  actual  cause,  the 
other,  strictly  speaking,  does  not. 

"  It  would  seem,"  he  says  (Sentent.  dist.  2,  q.  10),  "  that  the  priority  of 
the  efficient  cause  can  be  proved  with  more  evidence  with  respect  to  the 
conservation  of  a  thing  by  its  cause  than  with  respect  to  its  production 
thereby.  The  reason  of  which  may,  perhaps,  be  that  it  is  difficult,  if  not 
impossible,  to  prove  that  there  is  not  an  infinite  progression  in  causes  of 
this  kind  (i.e.  in  producing  causes).  But  there  is  no  infinite  progression  in 
preserving  causes,  for  if  it  is  possible  to  conceive  producing  causes  as 
not  being  actually  infinite,  one  cannot  conceive  preserving  causes  without 
actual  infinitude."  l 

2.  The  proof  a  contingentia  mundi  is  also  to  be  found  in 
Scholastic  works. 

It  is  evident  that  there  is  something  which  exists  of  itself,  and  has 
existed  from  all  eternity.  Otherwise  there  must  have  been  a  time  when 
nothing  existed,  not  even  that  which  belonged  to  the  future,  since  He  who 
was  able  to  give  existence  to  Himself  as  well  as  to  others,  was  not  (Richard 
of  St.  Victor,  De  Trinitate,  I,  Ch.  viii).  What  is  mutable  cannot  have 
existed  always,  for  what  could  not  remain  fixed  as  long  as  it  was  present, 
shows  that  the  moment  before  it  was,  it  was  not.  It  is  thus  that  nature 
proclaims  her  Maker  (Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  De  Sacramen.  Pars  III,  1, 
Chap.  x).  That  which  may  not  be  has  not  always  been.  If  all  things  are 
such  that  it  is  possible  for  them  not  to  be,  there  must  have  been  a  time 

1  See  Descartes  (3rd  Medit.)  :  "  And  it  is  very  manifest  that  we  have  here  to 
do  not  so  much  with  the  cause  that  once  gave  me  being,  as  with  the  cause  that 
preserves  me  now  in  being." 


280  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

when  nothing  existed.  But  if  this  were  the  case,  then,  even  now  nothing 
would  exist ;  for  what  is  not,  only  begins  to  be  through  what  is.  There- 
fore, all  beings  are  not  purely  possible,  and  there  is  something  which  is 
necessary  (Thorn.  Aq.  Summa  Theologiae,  I,  qu.  2,  a.  3). 

3.  In    a   more    particular    sense    the    proof  a   contingentia 
mundi  is  the  same  as  Aristotle's  proof  of  a  first  mover,  which 
is  reproduced  almost  word  for  word  by  Thomas  Aquinas. 

"  What  is  moved  is  moved  by  something.  To  impart  motion  is  nothing 
else  than  to  cause  something  to  pass  from  potentiality  to  actuality.  Now 
a  thing  can  be  changed  from  potentiality  to  actuality  only  by  something 
which  is  actual.  But  this  cannot  be  carried  back  ad  infinitum,  for  the 
secondary  movers  only  impart  motion  because  they  are  themselves  moved 
by  the  first  mover,  just  as  a  stick  only  moves  a  thing  through  the  motion 
of  the  hand." 

4.  The  proof  to  which  the  Scholastics  appear  to  have  given 
least  attention  is   that  of  final  causes,  no  doubt  because  this 
proof    rests    largely   on  experience,   which  they   were  always 
inclined  to  sacrifice  to  reason.      Still  St.  Bonaventura  says : 

"  He  who  is  not  illumined  by  the  splendour  of  created  things  is  blind. 
He  who  is  not  awakened  by  nature's  many  voices  is  deaf.  He  who  is  not 
led  by  all  these  things  to  praise  God  is  dumb." 

Thomas  Aquinas  expresses  the  same  thought  in  a  more 
scientific  way  when  he  says : 

"  We  see  that  certain  things  which  do  not  possess  reason,  for  example, 
natural  bodies,  yet  act  towards  their  end,  since  they  often  and  frequently 
act  in  the  same  way  so  as  to  fulfil  their  end.  Whence  it  follows  that  it  is 
not  through  chance,  but  through  intention  that  they  attain  their  end.  But 
things  that  are  unconscious  cannot  tend  to  an  end  unless  they  are  directed 
by  an  intelligent  and  conscious  cause.  There  is  therefore  an  intelligent 
Being  by  whom  all  things  are  directed  towards  their  end,  and  this  Being 
we  call  God "  (Summa  Theol.  I,  qu.  2,  a.  3). 

5.  Lastly,  the  Scholastics  were  not  ignorant  of  the  proof 
which   was  expounded  with   such  eloquence   by   Bossuet,  the 
proof  namely  which  rests  on  the  thesis  that  imperfection  pre- 
supposes perfection. 

"  O  my  soul,"  says  Gerson,  in  a  passage  which  Bossuet  appears  to  have 
imitated,  "I  cannot  know  thee  without  knowing  thy  being  and  thine 
essence  ;  and  I  cannot  know  what  is  imperfect  as  thou  art  without  know- 
ing what  is  perfect  ;  I  can  therefore  know  nothing  without  knowing 
God,  at  least  as  it  were  in  His  shadow  "  (Gerson,  Opera,  1728,  I,  p.  104). 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS    281 

As  might  be  expected,  we  also  find  in  the  works  of 
mediaeval  philosophers,  and  especially  in  those  of  the  mystics, 
the  proof  by  feeling,  which  rests  on  the  yearning  of  the  human 
soul  after  the  Infinite. 

"  Wisdom  (sapientia)  is  to  know  and  to  follow  God  in  such  a  manner 
that  we  relish  naught  (nihil  sapiat)  but  Him  alone.  He  who  loses  not  this 
relish  is  happy  "  (Hugh  of  Saint  Victor,  De  Finibus  ffominis,  Ch.  LXVII). 
"  Go,  poor  humanity,  leave  thy  concerns  ;  far  from  tumultuous  thoughts 
humbly  hide  thyself.  Throw  off  the  burden  of  these  laborious  discussions, 
descend  into  the  innermost  depths  of  thy  soul ;  shut  out  all  things  else 
but  God.  O  God,  if  not  there,  where  shall  I  find  thee  ? "  (Anselm, 
Proslogium,  Ch.  I). 

Theories  held  in  the  Middle  Ages  concerning  the  Nature 
of  God ;  Theism  and  Pantheism ;  The  Theodicy  of  Thomas 
Aquinas. 

Having  examined  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God,  we 
now  pass  on  to  Theodicy  proper,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  science 
•of  the  nature  of  God,  and  of  His  relation  to  the  world.  On 
this  subject  we  find  in  the  Middle  Ages  two  currents  of  opinion. 
Firstly,  the  orthodox  theodicy  which  was  based  on  the  doc- 
trines of  Aristotle  and  St.  Augustine.  Secondly,  an  irregular 
and  pantheistic  theodicy  derived  from  the  schools  of  Alexandria 
.and  of  the  Areopagite.  The  first,  which  was  approved  by  the 
Church,  prevailed  in  the  schools,  and  was  the  only  one  openly 
taught ;  the  second,  which  flowed  parallel  with,  or  rather, 
beneath  the  other,  was  taught  more  or  less  secretly  by  the 
heretical  sects  and  in  the  Arab  schools.  The  one  found  its 
greatest  representative  and  highest  authority  in  Thomas 
Aquinas ;  the  other  was  given  a  systematic  and  complete 
development  by  two  writers  only,  who  belonged  to  different 
ages — Scotus  Erigena  and  Eckart.  The  first  of  these  theo- 
dicies  was  to  be  the  foundation  of  the  religious  philosophy  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  second,  that  of  the  German 
philosophy  of  religion  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

Let  us  first  give  a  summary  of  the  doctrine  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas. 

We  have  already  seen  that,  according  to  Aquinas,  the  essence 
•of  God  is  not  known  to  us  in  itself,. but  only  by  its  effects 
(Summa  Theol  I,  Ia,  q.  12,  art.  1,  ad  1  ;  and  I,  I",  q.  3,  a.  4, 


282  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

ad  2).1  God's  being  is  identical  with  His  essence  (I,  P, 
q.  3,  a.  4).  Whence  it  follows,  as  St.  Anselm  saw,  that  His 
existence  must  be  deducible  from  His  essence ;  but  although 
this  proposition  is  true  in  itself,  it  is  not  true  for  us,  who  only 
know  this  essence  in  its  effects.  Thus  we  cannot  know  what 
God  is  in  Himself  (I,  P,  q.  1,  a.  7,  ad  1);  but  we  are  never- 
theless able  to  affirm  that,  for  the  very  reason  that  He  is  the 
Being  which  subsists  of  itself,  His  being  is  different  from  that 
of  creatures  (I,  P,  q.  3,  a.  2,  ad  3,  and  a.  4,  ad  1) ;  and  at 
the  same  time  one  may  also  say  that  He  is  the  being  of 
creatures,  not  as  their  form  and  matter,  but  as  their  efficient 
cause  (I,  P,  q.  3,  a.  8).  In  Himself,  God,  as  Aristotle  said,  is 
pure  actuality ;  in  other  words,  absolute  perfection  (I,  P,  q.  4, 
a.  1,  concl.,  and  q.  3,  a.  1,  concl.),  and  because  He  is  pure 
actuality,  pure  form  without  matter  (q.  3,  a.  3,  concl.),  He  is 
not  the  form  of  the  body  (q.  3,  a.  8),  nor  the  soul  of  the  world 
(Ibid,  concl.). 

He  Himself  is  not  body  (q.  3,  a.  1) :  He  possesses  no  senses, 
except  by  analogy  (q.  3,  a.  1,  ad  1).  He  is  absolutely  simple 
(q.  3,  a.  1,  and  q.  9,  a.  1,  concl.).  Since  he  is  pure  actuality,  in 
Him  substance  becomes  identical  with  form  (q.  3,  a.  3,  I),  and 
even  the  term  substance  is  only  appropriate  to  Him  in  so  far  as  it 
indicates  that  which  subsists  in  itself  (q.  29,  a.  3,  ad  4).  God 
contains  within  Himself  all  the  perfection  there  is  in  creatures, 
but  in  a  more  eminent  way.  Oportet  omnium  rerum  perfec- 
tiones  residere  in  Deo  secundum  eminentiorem  modum  (q.  4,  a.  2, 
concl.).  Although  God  is  distinct  from  His  creatures,  these  have 
not  a  being  that  is  commensurable  with  God,  for  God  and  the 
created  thing  taken  together  do  not  form  something  that  is 
greater  than  God  by  Himself  (II,  P,  q.  103,  a.  3,  ad  1  and  3 
and  2).  God  is  infinite,  not  with  a  material  infinitude,  but 
with  a  formal  infinitude,  inasmuch  as  in  Him  form  is  not 
limited  by  matter.  Being  pure  actuality,  He  is  of  Himself 
infinite  form  (q.  7,  a.  1). 

From  the  consideration  of  the  essence  of  God  in  itself,  we 
now  pass  to  His  divers  attributes,  and  we  shall  begin  by 
examining  the  question  of  divine  knowledge.  God  possesses 
knowledge  (q.  14,  art.  1) ;  for  beings  that  know  are  superior  to 

1  The  following  is  the  meaning  of  these  abbreviations :  the  prima  primae,  first 
part  of  the  first  part ;  question  3  ;  article  4,  answer  to  the  second  argument. 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS    283 

beings  that  do  not  know,  because  they  possess  not  only  their 
own  form,  but  also  the  forms  of  other  beings.  God,  being  pure 
form,  contains  the  form  of  every  form,  and  consequently 
possesses  knowledge  in  the  highest  degree ;  but,  as  the  perfec- 
tions of  creatures  exist  in  God  in  an  eminent  way,  God's 
knowledge  is  not  of  the  same  kind  as  human  knowledge,  being 
neither  a  quality  nor  a  habit,  but  a  substance  and  a  pure 
activity.  Hence  God's  comprehension  is  always  actual,  and 
He  needs  neither  to  combine  nor  to  divide  ;  in  other  words,  His 
knowledge  does  not  proceed  either  by  analysis  or  by  synthesis 
(q.  14,  a.  14,  concl.).  God's  knowledge  is  not  discursive,  but 
intuitive  and  simultaneous  (Ibid.  a.  7).  But  what  are  the 
objects  of  the  divine  knowledge  ?  In  the  first  place,  God 
knows  and  understands  Himself  (q.  14,  a.  2  and  3).  Secondly, 
God  knows  other  things  besides  Himself  (Ibid.  a.  5),  and  not 
only  in  a  general  and  abstract  way,  but  in  an  eminent  and 
higher  manner,  inasmuch  as  He  contains  within  Himself  the 
perfection  of  all  beings  (Ibid.  a.  6).  He  knows  individual 
things  as  such,  and  by  the  same  act  as  general  things.  In  the 
divine  understanding  the  universal  idea  is  not  arrived  at  by 
abstraction,  but  is  the  principle  of  particular  things,  and  it  is 
in  the  general  that  God  sees  the  particular  (Ibid.  art.  11).  He 
does  not,  as  Aristotle  thought,  lower  Himself  by  knowing 
things  inferior  to  Himself  (q.  22,  a.  3,  ad  3).  There  are  in 
God  two  kinds  of  knowledge.  The  knowledge  of  vision  and 
the  knowledge  of  simple  or  mere  intelligence1  (q.  14,  a.  9, 
concl.).  God  possesses  not  only  intelligence,  but  will  (q.  19, 
a.  1).  For  will  is  a  consequence  of  intelligence ;  inclination 
towards  the  good  being  nothing  else  than  appetite,  and  appetite, 
when  its  object  is  sensible,  is  called  sensible  appetite,  and 
when  its  object  is  intelligible,  is  called  intelligible  appetite,  and 
is  will.  In  reality,  will  is  the  very  being  of  God,  though  it 
can  be  distinguished  from  it  rationally  or  by  abstraction  (q.  19, 
a.  2,  ad  1).  Thomas  Aquinas  asserts  that  God  is  free,  but  he 
does  not  clearly  explain  how  he  conceives  this  freedom.  He 
makes  a  distinction  between  an  absolute  and  a  hypothetical 

aBy  knowledge  of  vision  St.  Thomas  means  knowledge  of  things  which  exist 
or  which,  without  actually  existing,  have  existed  or  will  exist ;  and  by  know- 
ledge of  simple  intelligence,  he  means  knowledge  of  things  which  will  never 
exist,  but  which  might  exist  on  a  certain  hypothesis. 


284  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

necessity.  Absolute  necessity  is  intelligible  of  itself  ;  hypothe- 
tical necessity  is  the  necessity  in  virtue  of  which  a  thing  is,  if 
it  is.  For  example,  the  proposition  Socrates  is  seated,  is 
necessary  hypothetically ;  for,  assuming  that  he  is  seated,  then 
he  is  not  standing  ;  but  this  is  not  absolutely  necessary.  So 
it  is  with  the  will  of  God  in  its  relation  to  finite  things. 
He  wills  them  necessarily,  if  He  does  will  them ;  but  He 
does  not  will  them  by  an  absolute  necessity,  because  they 
do  not  form  part  of  His  essence  (q.  19,  a.  3,  concl.).  God  is 
therefore  free  (Ibid.  a.  10).  His  will  is  perfect  (q.  14,  a.  2,  ad  3). 
Its  special  object  is  the  essence  of  God,  that  is  to  say,  goodness 
(q.  19,  a.  1,  ad  3).  But  although  God,  in  the  first  place,  essen- 
tially wills  Himself,  He  may  also  will  other  things  besides 
Himself,  for  it  is  in  the  essence  of  the  will  to  communicate 
as  much  as  possible  to  others  the  good  it  possesses.  The 
divine  will  is  therefore  disposed  to  communicate  His  goodness 
to  creatures  by  reflecting  His  image  in  them  (q.  19,  a.  2, 
concl.). 

Aquinas  distinguishes  in  God  an  antecedent  and  a  consequent 
will  (q.  19,  a.  6,  ad  1).  The  antecedent  will  is  that  which 
wills  a  thing  absolutely,  independently  of  circumstances  ;  and 
the  consequent  will  is  the  one  which  wills  a  thing  with 
reference  to  certain  circumstances.  For  example,  the  judge 
wills  by  an  antecedent  will  that  every  man  should  live ;  but 
with  a  consequent  will  that  the  homicide  should  be  hung.  In 
the  same  way,  God  wills  with  an  antecedent  will  that  all  men 
be  saved,  but  with  a  consequent  will  that  sinners  be  punished. 
There  is  another  distinction  between  voluntas  bene  placiti  and 
voluntas  signi.  The  former  is  the  inner  will  of  God,  the  latter, 
His  will  as  manifested  by  signs1  (q.  19,  a.  12). 

On  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  will  depends  the  doctrine  of  the 
love  of  God.  Aquinas  proves  that  there  is  love  in  God ;  for 
the  first  movement  of  will  and  of  the  appetitive  part  in  general 
is  love  (q.  20,  a.  1,  concl.).  The  object  of  love  being  the  good, 
God  loves  all  beings  in  proportion  as  they  are  good  (Ibid.  a.  2). 
As  regards  the  question,  whether  God  loves  anything  else 
besides  Himself,  it  is  the^  same  question  as  whether  He  knows 
anything  else  besides  Himself,  and  is  solved  in  the  same  way. 

According  to  St.    Thomas  there  are  five  signs:    Prohibition,  Persuasion, 
Precept,  Counsel,  and  Operation  (q.  19,  a.  12). 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  EELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS    285- 

God  possesses  not  only  will,  but  power  (q.  25,  a.  1)  ;  but 
powrer  is  not  in  itself  a  special  attribute,  it  is  part  of  His 
essence  (q.  25,  a.  1,  ad  2);  for  every  being  acts  in  proportion 
to  the  amount  of  actuality  it  possesses  (Ibid.),  and  it  is  active 
power  only  that  belongs  to  God  and  not  passive  power  (q.  25> 
a.  1).  God  being  all  actuality  is  omnipotence  (q.  25,  a.  5),. 
and  can  do  anything  that  does  not  imply  contradiction  (q.  7> 
a.  2,  ad  1,  and  q.  25,  a.  3  and  4).  He  may  alter  the  order 
He  has  Himself  established  (II,  P,  q.  105,  a.  6,  concl.),  but  He 
can  do  nothing  that  is  not  in  accordance  with  His  wisdom  and 
His  goodness  (I,  P,  q.  21,  a.  4,  concl.). 

To  proceed  to  the  attributes  of  God  and  to  His  relation  to 
the  world :  God's  fundamental  attribute  is  that  of  a  Creator ;. 
in  other  words,  He  can  make  something  out  of  nothing  (q.  45, 
a.  1,  concl.),  and  He  alone  can  create  (Ibid.  a.  5).  There 
is  no  creation  in  the  works  of  nature  and  of  art,  for  these 
works  always  presuppose  some  pre-existing  matter  (Ibid.  a.  8). 
Creation  is  the  work  of  mind  and  of  will,  and  consequently  of 
a  person  (q.  29,  a.  4  and  45,  a.  6,  concl.).  If  God  is  a  creator, 
if  He  creates  by  His  intelligence  and  His  will,  it  follows  that 
the  universe  as  a  whole  has  not  always  existed  (q.  46,  a.  1). 
At  this  point  Aquinas  replies  to  the  arguments  given  by 
Aristotle  in  proof  of  the  eternity  of  the  world,  and  he  appears  to 
think  that  Aristotle  did  not  seriously  uphold  this  thesis.  At 
the  same  time,  the  doctrine  that  the  world  had  a  beginning 
cannot  be  proved  by  reason,  and  6an  only  be  established  by 
faith  (q.  46,  a.  2). 

God  is  not  only  the  Creator,  He  is  also  Providence  (q.  22,  a.  1). 
For  all  that  is  good  in  creatures  comes  from  God ;  He  is  the 
cause  of  the  order  by  which  all  things  are  led  to  their  end 
(Ibid,  concl.).  Providence  comprises  two  things — the  concep^ 
tion  of  the  universal  order  and  the  production  of  this  order 
(q.  22,  a.  3,  concl.).  The  Atheists  (Democritus,  Epicurus) 
denied  providence  altogether,  and  believed  that  everything  was 
subject  to  chance.  Others  believe  that  providence  only 
extends  to  incorruptible  beings,  to  the  heavens.  But  Divine 
Providence  embraces  all  creatures  (q.  22,  a.  2,  concl.),  and,  more- 
over, it  acts  on  them  directly  and  without  any  intermediary 
(Ibid.  a.  3). 

Although  Aquinas  affirms  that  God  can  do  nothing  contrary 


286  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

to  His  wisdom  and  goodness,  he  is  not  an  optimist  after 
the  manner  of  Leibnitz  and  Malebranche,  who  taught  that  God 
could  not  do  otherwise  than  choose  the  best  of  all  possible 
worlds.  On  the  contrary,  according  to  St.  Thomas,  God  can 
always  make  better  things  than  those  which  he  has  made 
(q.  25,  a.  6).  For  the  divine  goodness  is  infinite,  and  conse- 
quently far  greater  than  the  number  of  His  creatures,  however 
great  that  may  be ;  and  for  this  same  reason  it  is  in  His 
power  to  create  things  other  than  and  superior  to  those  He 
has  made. 

At  the  same  time,  God's  divine  omnipotence  does  not  permit 
of  His  committing  sin ;  God  is  impeccable  (q.  25,  a.  3,  ad  2). 
But  if  God  is  the  creative  and  providential  cause  of  the  world, 
why  does  evil  exist  ?  Evil  is  not  real  being  (q.  48,  a.  2,  ad  2), 
and  yet  it  is  not  a  pure  negation.  Evil  is  the  privation  of 
good  (Ibid,  ad  1).  It  can  only  be  conceived  through  the  good 
(q.  14,  a.  10,  ad  4).  If  evil  exists,  absolute  evil  does  not 
(q.  49,  a.  3).  Evil  is  either  natural  (physical)  or  moral. 
Aquinas  says  very  little  about  natural  evil,  which  is  not  real, 
since  it  is  only  a  privation.  The  true  evil  is  the  moral,  which 
is  divided  into  two  kinds — the  malum  culpae  and  the  malum 
poenae  (q.  48,  a.  5).  In  any  case,  God  is  only  the  cause  of 
evil  by  an  accident,  and,  moreover,  He  is  the  cause  of  the 
malum  poenae  only  and  not  at  all  of  the  malum  culpae  (q.  49, 
a.  2,  concl.). 

In  a  word,  God  is  the  efficient,  exemplary,  and  final  cause 
of  all  things  (q.  44).  This  formula  embraces  and  expresses  the 
whole  of  the  theodicy  of  St.  Thomas. 

Irregular  Theology  in  the  Middle  Ages :  Pantheistical  Doc- 
trines;  Dionysius  the  Areopagite ;  Scotus  Erigena  ;  Amalric 
of  Bena,  and  David  of  Dinant ;  Eckart. 

Besides  the  orthodox  theology,  of  which  Aquinas  was  the 
chief  representative,  there  existed  throughout  the  Middle  Ages 
a  covert  system  of  Pantheism  which  was  characterized  by  two 
fundamental  ideas :  (1)  God  reduced  to  absolute  unity,  above 
all  difference  and  all  comprehension.  (2)  God,  as  not  only 
the  cause,  but  the  substance  and  essence  of  individual  beings. 
This  philosophy,  which  was  derived  from  the  school  of 
Alexandria,  had  as  its  principal  representatives  Dionysius  the 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEMS    287 

Areopagite,  Scotus  Erigena,  Amalric  of  Bena,  David  of 
Dinant,  and  lastly,  Meister  Eckart  and  the  German  mystics 
of  the  14th  century.  Mention  must  also  be  made  of  the 
Arab  and  Hebrew  ramifications,  such  as,  for  instance,  the 
doctrine  of  Averroes  and  Avicebron,  etc.  We  shall  do 
no  more  than  point  out  the  general  features  of  these 
doctrines. 

In  his  mystic  theology  and  in  his  Treatise  on  Divine  Names, 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  or  the  pseudo-Dionysius,  remarks  that 
there  are  two  kinds  of  theology :  affirmative  theology,  which 
proceeds  from  God  to  finite  things,  and  represents  God  as  having 
every  name ;  and  an  abstractive  theology,  which  rises  above  all 
positive  or  negative  determinations  and  considers  God  as  being 
without  name.  He  teaches  that  God  is  not  goodness,  but  the 
super-goodness,  the  super-divinity,  the  super-essence.  He  has 
no  name,  corresponds  to  no  essence ;  nothing  can  give  us  a 
conception  of  super-divinity  (Of  the  Divine  Names,  Oh.  11 
and  13). 

Scotus  Erigena,  in  his  De  Divisione  naturae  develops  the 
pantheistical  doctrine  in  a  much  more  scientific  and  complete 
manner.  He  divides  beings  or  nature  into  four  species :  1st, 
that  which  creates  and  is  not  created,  creans  non  creata ; 
2nd,  that  which  is  created  and  creates,  creata  et  creans;  3rd, 
that  which  is  created  and  does  not  create,  creata  et  non  creans ; 
4th,  that  which  neither  creates  nor  is  created,  non  creans,  non 
creata.  To  the  first  of  these  species  belongs  God  Himself,  for 
He  alone  creates  and  is  not  created.  He  also  constitutes  the 
uncreated  and  non-creative  essence,  but  from  a  different  aspect, 
that  is  to  say,  as  end ;  for,  regarded  as  the  end  of  beings,  God 
is  not  a  creator.  The  second  species,  that  which  creates  and 
is  created,  embraces  all  the  divine  models  and  prototypes,  is 
the  Word  (Plato's  avro^wov).  Lastly,  the  third  nature,  which  is 
created  and  does  not  create,  is  the  world,  and  here  it  is  that  the 
pantheistic  character  of  Erigena's  teaching  appears  more  especi- 
ally. To  him  creation  was  only  a  procession  (III,  25,  Processio) 
from  God.  All  that  God  saw,  He  always  made,  for  with  Him 
vision  does  not  come  before  operation,  but  is  co-eternal  with 
it.  He  sees  in  acting,  and  He  acts  in  seeing :  videt  operando 
et  videndo  operatur  (III,  17).  God  is  the  substance  of  all 
finite  things  and  these  cannot  exist  outside  Him.  He  is  the 


288  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

true  and  only  essence  of  all  things,  and  there  is  truly  and 
properly  speaking  nothing  that  is  not  this  essence  itself  (ipsam 
solam  esse  vere  ac  proprie  in  omnibus  et  nihil  est  vere  ac  proprie 
esse,  quod  ipsa  non  sit). 

God  and  His  creature  are  to  be  considered  not  as  two  things, 
but  as  one  single  thing,  and  that  is  God  Himself  (sed  unum 
et  id  ipsum).  For  the  creature  which  really  exists  in  God 
appears  in  an  ineffable  and  miraculous  manner  in  creation, 
thereby  becoming  manifest :  the  invisible  making  itself  visible, 
the  incomprehensible  comprehensible,  the  hidden  discovered, 
the  unknown  known,  what  is  without  form  and  figure  becoming 
determinate,  the  super-essential  essential,  the  super-natural 
natural ;  in  a  word,  creating  and  created,  making  and  made 
in  all  things :  Invisibilis  visibilem,  incognitus  cognitum,  forma 
et  specie  carens  formosum  et  speciosum ;  super-essentialis 
essentialem,  super-naturalis  naturalem,  omnia  creans  in  omnibus 
creatum,  et  omnium  factor  factum  in  omnibus  (Ibid.).  Our 
life  is  God's  life  (I,  78).  Se  ipsam  sancta  trinitas  in  nobis  et 
in  se  ipsa  amat,  videt,  movet  (Ibid.).  Man's  knowledge  of  God 
is  a  revelation,  the  appearance  of  God  in  him  a  theophany 
(Oeocpavla)  (I,  7). 

In  short,  according  to  Scotus  Erigena,  God  is  all  that  is, 
Deus  est  omne  quod  vere  est ;  what  we  feel  and  understand  is 
only  the  appearance  of  Him  Who,  in  Himself,  does  not  appear, 
non  apparentis  apparitio,  the  manifestation  of  Him  who  is 
hidden,  occulti  manifestatio,  the  affirmation  of  Him  who  is  in 
Himself  only  a  negation,  negati  affirmatio.  God  is  the  essence 
of  all  things ;  creation  is  not  accidental  but  essential,  non 
est  Deo  accidens  universalitatem  condere  ;  creation  is  therefore 
eternal,  universalitas  in  sua  causa  aeterna  est.  Before  He 
created  God  was  not.  God  and  His  actions  are  not  two 
things,  but  one.  If  all  things  come  from  God,  all  must  return 
to  Him.  For  it  is  He  Himself  who  returns  to  Himself,  bring- 
ing back  all  things  to  Himself.  In  se  ipsum  redit  revocans 
in  se  omnia. 

This  same  doctrine  of  immanence  was  held  in  the  12th 
century  by  two  philosophers  whose  writings  have  been  de- 
stroyed— Amalric  of  Bena  and  David  of  Dinant.  The  following, 
according  to  Gerson  (De  Concordia  metaphys.  cum  logica),  was 
their  theory ; 


ANCIENT  AND  MEDIAEVAL  RELIGIOUS  PEOBLEMS.    289 

All  things  are  God,  and  God  is  all  things  :  omnia  sunt  Deus  et  Deus  est 
omnia.  God  is  at  once  creator  and  creature,  creator  et  creatura,  idem  Deus. 
As  God  is  the  source  and  principle  of  all  things,  so  is  He  also  their  end, 
and  all  must  return  to  Him  in  order  to  be  immutable  and  at  rest,  and  to 
form  an  indivisible  unity  :  et  ita  unuin  individum  et  immutabile.  All  is 
one,  in  other  words,  all  is  God  :  omnia  unum  esse  quod  idem  est  omnia  esse 
Deum.  According  to  Albertus  Magnus,  David  of  Dinant,  in  his  book  De 
Divisonibus,  endeavoured  to  prove  that  Nous  or  intelligence  was  identical 
with  the  materia  prima,  and  that  this  identity  corresponded  with  the 
highest  conception  of  thought.  If  they  are  regarded  as  distinct,  it 
is  necessary  to  pre-suppose  a  common  higher  concept  in  which  they  are 
reunited,  and  this  concept  would  be  precisely  the  identity  of  God  with 
the  materia  prima  (  Albert  Mag.  Summa  Theolog.  I,  4,  20). 

Among  the  mystic  and  pantheistic  doctrines  of  the  middle 
ages,  that  of  Master  Eckart  (14th  century)  was  the  most 
profound  and  also  the  most  audacious.  He  not  only,  like 
Scotus  Erigena,  reproduced  Alexandrian  ideas,  but  he  also 
foreshadowed  and  prepared  the  way  for  modern  German 
theology.  God,  he  says,  is  above  being ;  He  is  the  identity  of 
being  and  non-being  (Gott  ist  ein  nicht  und  Gott  ist  ein  Icht). 
God  is  neither  this  nor  the  other ;  He  is  in  all  things,  in  the 
stone,  in  the  piece  of  wood,  etc.  (des  Gottes  leben  und  wesen  sey 
in  eym  Steine,  in  eym  Holz).  The  term  "  to  be  "  (das  Wort  sum} 
can  be  said  of  God  alone.  But  God  is  not  separable  from 
thought ;  in  Him  being  and  thought  are  identical  (sein  Wesen 
ist  sein  Bekennen}.  God  must  be  distinguished  from  His  divinity ; 
divinity  is  God's  hidden  substance,  the  eternal  and  profound  dark- 
ness in  which  God  is  unknown  to  Himself  (es  ist  die  verborgeu 
Finsternusz  der  ewigen  Gottheif).  God,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
divinity  manifesting  itself  and  conscious  of  itself  in  its  external 
activity.  Before  the  existence  of  creatures  God  was  not  yet 
God  (ee  die  Creaturen  warent,  do  was  nit  Gott).  God's  manifes- 
tation of  Himself  is  necessary.  He  speaks  eternally  and  with- 
out interruption ;  He  must  act  whether  He  wills  it  or  not  (er 
woll  oder  er  woll  nit,  es  musz  disz  sprechen).  God  thereby 
engenders  Himself,  that  is  to  say,  He  engenders  His  Son 
(Sein  wurcken  ist  seinen  sun  geberen),  and  all  things  in  Him 
(er  spricht  alle  Ding  in  im).  All  creatures  are  a  word  of 
God ;  what  my  mouth  speaks,  the  stone  speaks  also ;  each 
creature  is  full  of  God,  each  bears  the  impress  of  the  divine 
nature,  is  a  book  of  God  (ein  yegliche  Creatur  ist  voll  Gottes,  und 

II.  T 


290  THE  PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

ist  ein  Buck).  The  thirsty  man  would  not  desire  to  drink 
were  there  not  something  of  God  in  what  he  drinks  (er  begerte 
es  nit,  were  nit  etwas  Gottes  darinn).  .  .  .  (See  M.  Ch.  Schmidt's 
Mysticisme  allemand  au  giiatorzieme  siecle :  Mdmoires  de 
I'Acad^mie  des  Sciences  Morales,  Savants  Strangers,  Vol.  II, 
1846.) 


CHAPTER    II 
THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN  MODERN  TIMES 

1.  PROOFS  OF  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD 

IN  modern  philosophy,  we  have  always  to  return  to  Descartes 
if  we  wish  to  trace  the  history  of  the  different  problems  from 
their  origin.  Descartes'  theology  contains,  it  is  true,  many 
elements  that  were  borrowed  from  mediaeval  and  ancient 
Philosophy  ;  but  his  method  was  quite  peculiar  to  himself,  and 
entirely  original.  This  method,  which  is  the  philosophical 
method  par  excellence,  makes  doubt  its  starting  point,  with  self- 
evidence  as  the  criterion  of  truth.  To  refuse  to  admit  anything 
that  is  not  absolutely  proved,  and  to  accept  as  proved  only 
that  which  is  self-evident :  this  is  the  Cartesian  method. 

It  is  true  that  this  method  had  been  followed  implicitly 
in  every  system  of  Philosophy,  including  those  of  the  Middle 
Ages ;  for  when  Thomas  Aquinas  in  his  Summa  theologiae 
begins  by  asking  the  question :  An  Deus  sit,  and  unhesi- 
tatingly replies,  Dico  quod  non,  it  is  evident  that  he  intends 
to  question  every  truth,  even  that  of  the  existence  of  God, 
and  to  accept  this  truth  only  when  he  has  answered 
his  own  objections,  and  established  it  on  proofs  that  are 
self-evident.  But  this  method,  without  which,  indeed,  there 
can  be  no  philosophy,  was  employed  without  reflexion  by 
Aquinas  and  the  rest.  With  Descartes,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  was  a  conscious  method.  He  also  was  the  first  to  formulate 
it,  and  for  this  reason  he  may  be  regarded  as  the  father  of 
modern  Philosophy. 

Another  original  feature  in  the  Cartesian  method  is  that  it 


292  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

starts  from  the  existence  of  thought,  and  consequently  of  the 
thinking  subject,  as  from  a  primary  truth.  Whatever  the 
ideas  may  be  which  are  to  be  established  by  Philosophy,  one 
thing  will  always  remain  true,  and  absolutely  so,  and  this  is 
the  consciousness  of  self.  I  may  doubt  the  existence  of  bodies 
and  of  God,  and  even  of  mathematical  truths,  but  I  cannot 
doubt  my  own  thought ;  for  my  doubt  itself  is  a  thought,  and 
to  think  or  to  doubt  is  to  exist,  since  that  which  has  no  existence 
cannot  think.  I  who  think  am,  therefore,  something,  and  I 
am  only  inasmuch  as  I  think;  therefore,  I  am  a  thing  whose 
essence  it  is  to  think  :  I  am  a  thinking  thing,  in  other  words, 
I  am  a  spirit. 

Thus  Descartes  establishes  not  only  the  method  of  modern 
philosophy,  but  its  very  principle,  namely,  the  conception  of 
the  subjective  — the  subject  as  opposed  to  object,  the  ego  as  the 
identity  of  subject  and  object. 

Descartes. — The  Three  Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  God :  the 
Proof "  A  Contingentia  Mentis";  the  Proof  derived  from  the  Idea 
of  the  Infinite,  and  from  the  Necessity  of  an  Adequate  Cause  of 
this  Idea  ;  the  A  Priori  Proof  that  Existence  is  involved  in  the 
Idea  of  Perfection. 

From  the  above  principles,  Descartes  sets  out  to  establish 
the  existence  of  God.  He  does  not  make  use  of  physical 
proofs,  nor  of  what  is  called  the  cosmological  argument,  nor 
of  the  proof  by  final  causes ;  because  he  has  not  as  yet  proved 
the  existence  of  the  world  and  of  material  things,  and,  more- 
over, he  requires  the  existence  of  God  in  order  to  prove  the 
existence  of  these  things.  It  is,  therefore,  in  the  human  mind, 
and  in  the  human  mind  alone  that  he  seeks  and  finds  proofs 
of  the  existence  of  God. 

These  proofs  he  finds  both  in  the  existence  of  the  ego 
and  in  the  ideas  of  the  ego.  What  is  usually  called  the  proof 
a  contingentia  mundi  becomes  with  him  the  proof  a  con- 
tingentia  mentis.  As  for  the  ideas  of  the  ego  which  lead  up 
to  God,  there  is  in  reality  only  one,  namely,  the  idea  of  God  or 
of  perfection  ;  but  regarded  from  two  different  points  of  view, 
this  idea  affords  two  different  proofs.  Hence,  in  Descartes, 
there  are  three  distinct  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God ;  and 
since  the  one  we  have  named  a  contingentia  mentis  itself  implies 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       293 

the  idea  of  God,  it  follows  that  it  is  upon  this  idea  that  all 
Descartes'  proofs  are  founded. 

First  Proof. — Descartes'  first  proof  may  be  stated  as  follows : 
The  idea  of  God  implies  the  existence  of  God,  for  the  effect 
presupposes  the  cause.  We  have,  no  doubt,  illusory  ideas 
which,  without  presupposing  the  existence  of  their  object,  can  be 
explained  by  the  combination  or  amplification  or  abstraction 
of  real  elements  ;  but  the  question  precisely  is,  whether  amongst 
our  ideas  there  is  not  one  whose  existence  can  only  be  explained 
by  admitting  the  existence  of  its  object ;  and  this  peculiar 
privilege  belongs  to  the  idea  of  God,  which  can  be  proved 
either  a,  posteriori  by  the  principle  of  causality  or  a  priori  by 
simply  analysing  the  idea  of  God. 

In  the  first  place  then,  what  is  this  idea  ? 

"  By  the  name  God  I  understand  a  substance  infinite,  eternal,  inynut- 
able,  independent,  all-knowing,  all-powerful  ;  by  which  I  myself  and 
every  other  thing  (if  any  such  does  in  truth  exist)  have  been  produced  " 
(Med,  III). 

Whence  can  such  an  idea  have  come  to  my  mind  ?  For,  as 
an  existing  idea,  its  origin  requires  an  explanation,  and  it  must 
have  had  a  cause.  Can  I  have  given  it  to  myself  ?  It  is  true, 
that  being  myself  a  substance  I  can  give  myself  the  notion  of 
a  substance  different  from  myself,  but  how  is  it  that  I,  a  finite 
being,  am  able  to  conceive  the  notion  of  an  infinite  substance  ? 

Here  Descartes  lays  down  a  principle  which  he  borrows 
from  the  Scholastics,  namely,  "  That  there  must  be  as  much 
reality  in  the  efficient  and  total  cause  as  in  the  effect "  (Cousin, 
I,  p.  273).  The  cause  of  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  must  there- 
fore contain  at  least  as  much  reality  as  this  idea  itself.  No 
doubt  bur  ideas,  regarded  as  modes  or  states  of  our  think- 
ing faculty,  have  all  the  same  value  and  all  flow  from  the 
nature  of  our  mind,  which  is  a  thinking  thing.  They  are 
implied  in  the  ego  as  a  mode  is  implied  in  substance ;  but  as 
representations  of  certain  objects,  as  ideas,  they  possess 
another  kind  of  reality,  a  reality  relative  to  that  of  the  object : 
this  Descartes  calls  the  objective. l  reality  of  the  idea.  Ideas 

1  In  scholastic  language  the  term  objective  is  not  used  in  quite  the  same 
sense  as  by  modern  philosophers.  The  objective  is  opposed  to  the  real  and 
is  a  part  of  the  subjective ;  it  is  that  which  in  the  subject  is  representative 
of  the  object.  In  other  words,  it  is  the  idea  in  its  relation  to  the  object. 


294  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

have  more  or  less  objective  reality,  according  as  their  objects 
have  more  or  less  formal  or  essential  reality  :  thus  the  idea 
of  plant  has  more  objective  reality  than  the  idea  of  stone, 
because  the  plant  possesses  more  attributes  than  the  stone ; 
and  "  however  imperfect  this  manner  of  being  may  be  in  which 
a  thing  exists  objectively  or  by  representation  as  an  idea  in  the 
understanding,  it  certainly  cannot  be  said  that  this  fashion  or 
manner  of  being  is  nothing,  and  that  consequently  this  idea 
derives  its  origin  from  nothing"  (Ibid.  p.  274). 

And  now,  since,  speaking  generally,  every  cause  must  have 
as  much  reality  as  its  effect,  we  are  able  to  draw  therefrom 
another  principle,  namely,  that  "  for  an  idea  to  contain  such  or 
such  an  objective  reality  rather  than  another,  it  must  owe  this 
to  some  cause  in  which  there  is  at  least  as  much  formal  reality 
as  there  is  objective  reality  x  in  the  idea."  To  explain  the 
reality  of  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  in  thought,  there  must  then, 
be  a  cause  which  possesses  within  itself  an  actually  infinite 
reality. 

Let  us,  however,  see  whether  it  is  not  possible  to  account 
for  this  idea  in  some  other  way.  Descartes  examines  three 
explanations  which  are  given  by  the  Empiricists:  (1)  Negation 
(Ibid.  p.  282)  ;  (2)  Multiplication  (p.  288)  ;  (3)  Infinite  addition 
(p.  280). 

(1)  That  the  Infinite  is  merely  a  negation,  the  negation  of 
the  finite,  and  the  idea  of  infinitude  a  negative  idea.       On 
the  contrary,  Descartes  replies,   there  is   more  reality  in  an 
infinite  substance  than  in  a  finite  one,  and  thus  the  notion  of 
the  Infinite  is  in  my  mind  before  that  of  the  finite.    Moreover, 
it  cannot  be  said  that  this  idea,  being    materially   false,   is 
derived  from  the  non-existent,  since  it  has  more  reality  than 
any  other  idea. 

(2)  Several    causes  may    have    co-operated    simultaneously 
towards  the  production  of  this  idea ;  from  one  of  these  I  may 
have  received  the  idea  of  some  one  of  the  perfections  which  I 
attribute  to  God,  and  to  another  cause  I  may  owe  the  idea  of 
some  other  perfection ;  so  that  all  these  perfections  may  well 
exist  in  some  part  or  other  of  the  world,  but  do  not  exist  all 
collected  and  combined  together  in  a  single  being,  which  would 

1That  is,  objective  reality  in  the  sense  given  by  modern  philosophers  to 
the  word  objective. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN  MODERN  TIMES       295 

be  God.  On  the  contrary,  says  Descartes,  the  unity,  simplicity, 
and  inseparability  of  all  the  things  which  are  in  God  constitute 
one  of  His  chief  perfections ;  and  the  idea  of  the  unity  of 
these  perfections  cannot  have  been  put  into  my  mind  by 
any  cause  whatsoever. 

(3)  But  it  may  be  that  I  am  something  more  than  I 
imagine,  and  that  all  the  perfections  which  I  conceive  to  be  in 
God  exist  potentially  in  myself.  Would  not  this  faculty 
which  I  possess  of  increasing  these  perfections  indefinitely  be 
sufficient  to  reproduce  the  ideas  of  them  in  my  mind  ?  Reply  : 
It  is  a  certain  proof  of  the  imperfection  of  my  knowledge 
that  it  grows  gradually,  and  continues  to  increase.  God  I 
know  to  be,  on  the  contrary,  actually  infinite  in  such  a  degree 
that  He  cannot  add  anything  to  His  own  supreme  perfection. 
Now,  the  objective  existence  of  an  idea  (i.e.  the  idea  of  an 
actually  infinite  being)  cannot  be  caused  by  a  being  that  has 
only  a  potential  existence. 

If  the  idea  of  the  infinite  cannot  be  explained  in  any  way 
by  the  existence  of  the  finite,  it  must  be  that  this  idea  has  a 
cause  which  is  at  least  equal  to  itself,  and  which  contains 
actually  what  is  ideally  possessed  by  the  mind. 

Second  Proof. — What  is  known  as  Descartes'  second  proof, 
was  in  reality  for  him  only  part  of  the  first  proof.  However, 
although  merely  an  expansion  of  the  latter,  it  may  be  con- 
sidered apart. 

Descartes  puts  the  question — Would  I,  who  possess  the  idea  of 
God,  exist  if  there  were  no  God  (Ibid.  p.  284)  and  he  replies  that 
this  would  be  impossible ;  for,  since  I  possess  the  idea  of  God, 
if  I  had  given  myself  existence  I  should  have  at  the  same  time 
given  myself  all  the  perfections  of  which  I  have  the  idea,  in  a 
word,  I  should  be  God ;  but  I  am  not  God.  I  must,  therefore, 
owe  my  origin  to  some  other  cause ;  but  as  the  same  reasoning 
applies  to  this  other  cause,  I  must  go  on  until  I  find  the  cause 
which  actually  possesses  all  the  perfections  of  which  I  have 
the  idea,  and  which,  consequently  is  God. 

Thus  expressed,  this  proof  appears  somewhat  strange ;  for 
Descartes  seems  to  assume  that  if  the  ego  is  self-existent  it 
must  have  voluntarily  given  existence  to  itself,  and  conse- 
quently must  have  existed  before  it  was,  which  is  contradictory. 
If  we  take  it  in  this  sense,  the  argument  appears,  strictly 


296 

speaking,  to  be  sophistical ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  who 
says  that  God  exists  through  Himself,  that  He  is  the  self- 
existent,  at  the  same  time  affirms  that  He  has  within  Himself 
the  cause  of  His  own  existence,  and  Descartes,  to  explain  his 
meaning,  says,  that  in  God  essence  is  identical  with  cause  (the 
formal  cause,  as  he  says,  with  the  efficient  cause),  that  the 
essence  stands  to  Him,  therefore,  in  the  relation  of  an  efficient 
cause  l  (R6p.  a  Caterus,  p.  382).  The  essence  of  God,  viz.,  self- 
existence,  has,  therefore,  in  a  manner  the  same  relation  to  Him 
as  cause  to  effect.  The  being,  therefore,  which  possessed  this 
supreme  power  of  self-existence  would  by  that  very  fact 
possess  the  power  of  endowing  itself  with  every  perfection, 
which  is  the  same  as  saying  that  absolute  existence  implies 
absolute  perfection. 

We  must  draw  attention  to  an  important  point  in  this  argu- 
ment of  Descartes,  namely,  that  the  preservation  of  a  substance 
is  identical  with  its  creation,  and  that  consequently  the  ques- 
tion is  not  so  much,  who  created  me  at  first,  as,  to  whom  do 
I  owe  my  preservation  at  this  moment  ?  Now,  this  I  can 
attribute  neither  to  myself,  nor  to  my  parents,  nor  to  any  other 
cause,  unless  it  be  to  one  which  possesses  in  itself  all  the  perfec- 
tions of  which  I  have  the  idea. 

In  this  way,  according  to  Descartes,  we  avoid  the  objection 
of  an  infinite  regression,  an  objection  which  might,  strictly 
speaking,  be  brought  against  the  theory  of  a  creative  cause, 
since  we  might  go  on  ascending  from  cause  to  cause  in  the 
series  of  time ;  but  it  is  not  so  with  the  preserving  cause,  which, 
if  it  explains  my  actual  existence,  must  itself  be  actual. 

Third  Proof. — Lastly,  we  find  in  Descartes  a  celebrated 
proof,  which  we  have  already  met  in  the  middle  ages.  This 
proof  is  generally  known  as  that  of  St.  Anselm,  and  is  called 
by  Kant  the  ontological  argument.  Descartes  states  it  as 
follows : 

"  It  is  certain  that  I  no  less  find  the  idea  of  God  in  ray  consciousness, 
that  is,  the  idea  of  a  being  supremely  perfect,  than  that  of  any 

1  Descartes  compares  this  process  of  reasoning,  by  which  we  pass  from 
the  formal  to  the  efficient  cause,  to  the  geometrical  reasoning  which  pro- 
ceeds from  the  circle  to  the  polygon  (Rep.  aux  objections  cTArnauld, 
Cousin,  II,  p.  68). 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       297 

figure  or  number  whatsoever ;  and  I  know  with  not  less  clearness  and 
distinctness  that  an  actual  and  eternal  existence  pertains  to  His  nature, 
than  that  all  which  is  demonstrable  of  any  figure  or  number  really 
belongs  to  the  nature  of  that  figure  or  number"  (Med.  V). 

This  reasoning,  says  Descartes,  has  a  somewhat  sophistical 
appearance ;  for  in  all  things  a  distinction  is  made  between 
essence  and  existence,  and  I  conceive  likewise  that  the 
existence  of  God  may  be  separated  from  His  essence.  But  on 
reflection  I  see  that  in  God  existence  cannot  be  separated 
from  essence.  For  every  time  it  happens  that  I  think  on  a 
first  and  supreme  being,  I  am  obliged  to  attribute  to  Him 
every  perfection :  now  existence  is  a  perfection,  therefore  I  am 
able  most  clearly  to  infer  that  this  supreme  being  does  exist. 
This  proof  has  justly  been  named  the  a  priori  proof,  and  is  the 
only  one  of  its  kind.  For  in  all  the  other  so-called  meta- 
physical proofs  there  enters,  to  some  extent,  considerations 
borrowed  from  contingent  things,  and  the  process  is  always 
from  effect  to  cause.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  we  do  not  go 
beyond  the  consideration  of  the  idea,  and  it  is  from  the 
essence  of  the  being  itself  that  the  existence  of  that  being 
is  inferred.  Thus,  it  is  an  entirely  a  priori  proof.  This 
proof  has  been  much  disputed,  and  even  in  Descartes'  own 
time  Gassendi  brought  forcible  objections  against  it,  the 
most  important  of  which,  or,  at  least,  the  only  objection 
which  really  went  to  the  heart  of  the  question,  was  that 
existence  is  not  a  property  of  a  thing,  and  consequently 
not  a  perfection. 

"  Existence,  says  Gassendi,  is  not  a  perfection,  but  a  form  or  an 
activity  without  which  there  can  be  no  perfection,  and  truly  that  which 
does  not  exist  has  neither  perfection  nor  imperfection.  It  is  not  said 
of  a  thing  which  does  not  exist  that  it  is  imperfect,  but  that  it  is  null " 
(S.  obj.  Cousin,  II,  p.  202). 

To  which  Descartes  replies : 

"  I  do  not  see  to  what  kind  of  things  you  would  have  existence  to 
belong,  nor  why  it  cannot  also  be  a  property  like  omnipotence,  taking  the 
word  property  to  -mean  any  kind  of  attribute.  Much  more,  in  God, 
necessary  existence  is  truly  a  property  in  the  narrowest  sense  (proprium), 
because  existence  is  proper  to  Him  alone,  and  it  is  only  in  Him  that 
existence  is  part  of  essence  "  (Ibid.  p.  291). 


298  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Divers  other  Proofs  :  Spinoza  ;  Leibnitz  ;  Malebranche  ; 
Bossuet  :  Proof  by  the  Eternal  Truths. 

Descartes'  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  were,  in  general, 
used  as  the  basis  of  all  the  demonstrations  proposed  in  the 
17th  century.  They  were,  however,  modified  or  transformed 
by  each  of  the  great  philosophers  of  this  period,  accord- 
ing to  his  particular  cast  of  mind.  Spinoza,  for  example, 
gives  the  a  priori  or  ontological  argument  of  St.  Anselm  and 
Descartes,  under  a  new  form,  in  the  following  words  : 

"  For  since  ability  to  exist  is  power,  it  follows  that  the  more  reality 
belongs  to  the  nature  of  anything  the  greater  is  the  power  for  existence 
it  derives  from  itself  ;  and  it  also  follows,  therefore,  that  the  being  absolutely 
infinite,  or  God,  has  from  Himself  an  absolutely  infinite  power  of  existence, 
and  that  He  therefore  necessarily  exists.  .  .  .  Whatever  perfection  or 
reality  those  things  may  have  which  are  produced  by  external  causes, 
whether  they  consist  of  many  parts  or  of  few,  they  owe  it  all  to  the  virtue 
of  an  external  cause,  and,  therefore,  their  existence  springs  from  the  per- 
fection of  an  external  cause  alone  and  not  from  their  own.  On  the  other 
hand,  whatever  perfection  substance  has  is  due  to  no  external  cause.  There- 
fore, its  existence  must  follow  from  its  nature  alone,  and  is,  therefore, 
nothing  else  than  its  essence.  Perfection  consequently  does  not  prevent 
the  existence  of  a  thing,  but  establishes  it  ;  *  imperfection,  on  the  other 
hand,  prevents  existence  "  (Ethics,  I,  Prop.  XI,  note). 

Leibnitz  likewise  attempted  to  develop  Descartes'  argument, 
and  to  make  it  complete  by  remedying  a  flaw  which  he  thought 
he  discovered  in  it.2 

"  I  was  led,"  he  says,  "  to  examine  this  question  more  closely 
by  an  argument  which  was  for  a  long  time  well  known  in  the 
schools,  and  which  has  been  once  more  employed  by  Descartes 
to  prove  the  existence  of  God.  The  argument  runs  thus  : 
Everything  which  follows  from  the  idea  or  the  definition  of  a 
thing  may  be  affirmed  of  that  thing.  Existence  follows  from 
the  idea  of  God,  or  of  the  most  perfect  being  that  can  be  con- 
ceived. Therefore,  existence  may  be  affirmed  of  God.  But 


1  Bossuet  coincides  with  Spinoza  when  he  says  ^l^e  Elevation):  "Is 
perfection  an  obstacle  to  being  ?     On  the  contrary  it  is  the  reason  of 
being." 

2  Leibnitz  appears  not  to  have  known  that  the  difficulty  he  mentions  in 
the  a  priori  proof  had  already  been  noticed  in  the  second  of  the  Objections, 
and  that  Descartes  had  given  the  same  reply  as  himself,  but  with  more 
profound  reasoning. 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       299> 

the  truth  is,  the  only  inference  we  can  draw  is  the  following : 
If  God  is  possible,  it  follows  that  He  exists.  For  we  can  find 
in  our  definitions  no  solid  foundation  for  our  inference  until  we 
know  that  these  definitions  are  real  and  imply  no  contradic- 
tion. Thus  it  is  not  enough  for  us  to  have  the  thought  of 
God  in  order  to  be  sure  that  we  have  the  idea  of  Him,  and 
in  the  demonstration  we  have  just  set  forth  the  possibility 
of  this  very  perfect  being  must  be  proved  or  assumed  if  we 
are  to  infer  legitimately"  (Meditations  sur  les  id6es  ;  see 
Janet's  edition,  p.  516). 

Thus  in  Descartes'  argument  it  is  assumed  that  God  is 
possible,  and  there  is  a  suppressed  premiss,  according  to  which 
God  is  possible,  and  the  idea  of  Him  does  not  imply  contradic- 
tion. "  I  grant,"  says  Leibnitz,  "  that  the  demonstration  is 
imperfect,  because  it  assumes  that  the  perfect  being  is  possible 
in  Himself.  If  anyone  could  prove  this,  we  would  then  have 
a  truly  mathematical  proof  of  the  existence  of  God."  He 
gives  a  proof  of  this  himself  by  the  way,  implicitly  and 
without  reasoning  it  out  clearly. 

"  And,"  he  says,  "  as  nothing  can  interfere  with  the  possi- 
bility of  that  which  involves  no  limits,  no  negation,  and 
consequently  no  contradiction,  this  [i.e.  this  possibility]  is  suffi- 
cient of  itself  to  make  known  the  existence  of  God  a  priori  " 
(Monad.  45).  But  Leibnitz  does  not  sufficiently  explain  how 
it  is  that  what  does  not  contain  negation  does  not  imply  con- 
tradiction ;  for,  to  take  his  own  example,  the  idea  of  most 
rapid  motion  does  not  appear  to  contain  a  negation,  and  yet 
it  is  contradictory.  In  addition  to  this  correction  of  Descartes' 
proof,  Leibnitz  introduced  a  proof  of  his  own,  which  is  in  fact 
the  same  as  that  known  as  the  proof  a  contingentia  mundi,  or, 
to  use  Kant's  expression,  the  cosmological  argument.  Leibnitz, 
however,  derives  this  proof  from  a  principle  which  is  peculiar 
to  himself,  the  .principle,  namely,  of  Sufficient  Reason : 

"  And  as  all  this  detail  [of  contingent  things]  again  involves  other  prior 
or  more  detailed  contingent  things,  each  of  which  still  needs  a  similar 
analysis  to  yield  its  reason,  we  are  no  further  forward  ;  and  the  sufficient 
or  final  reason  must  be  outside  the  sequence  or  series  of  particular  con- 
tingent things,  however  infinite  this  series  may  be.  Thus  the  final  reason 
of  things  must  be  in  a  necessary  substance,  in  which  the  variety  of 
particular  changes  exist  only  eminently,  as  in  its  source,  and  this  sub- 
stance we  call  God  "  (Monad.  §§  37  and  38). 


300  THE   PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Malebrauche  does  not  give  any  special  proof  of  the  existence 
of  God,  for  he  teaches  that  all  things  are  seen  in  God,  and 
that  God  is  seen  in  Himself,  and  he  thinks  that  we  have 
no  other  idea  of  God  besides  this  vision.  To  think  God 
and  to  see  Him  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  and  consequently 
there  is  no  need  to  pass  by  means  of  reasoning  from  the  idea 
of  God  to  His  being,  since  the  soul  is  immediately  united  to  His 
being  itself. 

"  By  Divinity,  says  he,  we  understand  the  Infinite,  the  being  that  is  with- 
out restriction,  the  infinitely  perfect  being.  Now,  nothing  finite  can 
represent  the  Infinite.  Therefore,  it  is  enough  to  think  of  God  in  order 
to  know  that  He  is. — Ariste.  Yes,  Theotimus,  I  am  convinced  that  nothing 
can  have  sufficient  reality  to  represent  the  Infinite.  But  I  am  certain 
that  I  see  the  Infinite ;  therefore,  the  Infinite  exists  since  I  see  it  and  can 
only  see  it  in  itself." 

The  arguments  of  Bossuet  must  be  included  in  this  account 
of  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God.  In  the  first  place  (see 
note  on  p.  298),  he  expresses  in  a  forcible  and  profound 
manner  the  a  priori  proof,  saying,  with  Spinoza,  that 
perfection  is  not  an  obstacle  to  being ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  the  reason  of  being.  He  also  re-introduces,  under 
a  new  and  characteristic  form,  the  Platonic  ideal  argument ; 
i.e.  he  proves  the  existence  of  God  through  the  existence  of 
eternal  truths.  There  are  laws  which  are  necessary  and 
eternal,  and  these  laws  would  not  cease  to  be  true  even 
if  none  of  the  things  subject  to  them  had  existence.  For 
example,  even  if  there  were  no  triangles  in  reality,  it 
would  still  remain  true  that  in  all  triangles  the  three  angles 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles.  On  the  other  hand  again,  it 
is  not  necessary  that  the  human  understanding  should  exist  to 
know  these  truths,  for  they  would  still  be  true  if  there  was 
not  a  man  in  the  world.  Thus,  we  have  here  eternal  truths, 
which  depend  neither  on  the  world  nor  on  the  human  mind. 
Nevertheless  these  truths  must  exist  somewhere  and  depend 
on  some  being. 

"  If  now  I  seek  to  discover  in  what  subject  these  truths  reside,  eternal 
and  immutable  as  they  are,  I  am  obliged  to  admit  the  existence  of  a  being 
in  whom  truth  eternally  subsists  and  by  whom  it  is  for  ever  comprehended ; 
and  this  being  must  be  truth  itself,  and  must  be  all  truth,  and  it  is  from 
Him  that  the  truth  is  derived  in  all  that  is  and  is  comprehended  outside 
of  Him  "  (Connaissance  de  Dieu  et  de  sot-mtme,  Ch.  IV). 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       301 

In  order  to  complete  this  history  of  the  proofs  of  the  existence 
of  God  which  were  advanced  in  the  17th  century,  we  might 
further  cite  Newton's  proof  which  is  founded  on  the  existence 
of  space,  and  that  of  Clarke,  who  attempted  to  unite  in  one 
single  demonstration  all  the  separate  proofs  that,  taken  indivi- 
dually, only  prove  a  single  attribute  of  God,  and  are  conse- 
quently insufficient,  being  in  reality  only  parts  of  one  and  the 
same  demonstration.  But  our  space  is  limited,  and  we  must 
pass  on  to  the  18th  century. 

The  18th  century  has  the  reputation  of  being  the  century  of 
atheism,  on  account  of  the  noise  made  in  the  world  by  the 
philosophy  of  the  Encyclopaedia,  the  philosophy,  that  is,  of 
Holbach  and  of  Diderot ;  but  it  would  be  more  true  to  say 
that  it  was  the  century  of  deism,  for  at  no  other  period  was 
a  larger  number  of  books  written  on  the  subject  of  the 
existence  of  God.  In  this  century  there  arose  a  new  science 
which  had  not  been  known  before,  and  was  chiefly  due  to  the 
progress  made  at  this  time  in  physical  and  natural  knowledge : 
the  science,  that  is,  of  physical  theology  which  derives  proofs  of 
the  existence  of  God  from  the  wonders  of  nature. 

Kant's  Criticism:  The  Ontoloyical  Argument ;  The  Cosmological 
Argument;  The  Physico- Theological  Argument;  The  Three  reduced, 
to  One  ;  Kant's  Proof  ~by  Morality. 

A  more  important  stage  in  the  history  of  the  proofs  of  the 
existence  of  God  is  marked  by  Kant's  criticism  in  the  Critique 
of  Pure  Reason.  The  third  part  of  the  Transcendental  Dialectic 
is  devoted  to  the  theory  and  discussion  of  these  proofs. 

Kant  begins  by  examining  the  definition  of  God  as  laid 
down  by  the  Cartesians,  and  in  particular  by  Leibnitz.  God 
is  the  most  real  of  all  beings  (ens  realissimum,  omnituda 
realitatis),  the  whole  of  reality.  This  whole  of  reality  contains 
within  itself  all  possible  attributes  of  things,  all  that  can  be- 
known  as  real  and  excludes  all  negation. 

'*  Now  a  negation  cannot  be  cogitated  as  determined  without  cogitating 
at  the  same  time  the  opposite  affirmation.  The  man  born  blind  has  not 
the  least  notion  of  darkness,  because  he  has  none  of  light  ;  the  vagabond 
knows  nothing  of  poverty,  because  he  has  never  known  what  it  is  to  be 
in  comfort ;  the  ignorant  man  has  no  conception  of  his  ignorance,  because 
he  has  no  [conception  of  knowledge.  All  conceptions  of  negatives  are 


302  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

accordingly  derived  or  deduced  conceptions  ;  and  realities  contain  the  data, 
and,  so  to  speak,  the  material  or  transcendental  contents  of  the  possibility 
and  complete  determination  of  all  things.  .  .  .  We  shall  find  ourselves 
authorized  to  determine  our  notion  of  the  Supreme  Being  by  means  of 
the  right  conception  of  a  highest  reality,  as  one,  simple,  all-sufficient, 
eternal,  and  so  on — in  one  word,  to  determine  it  in  its  unconditioned 
•completeness  by  the  aid  of  every  possible  predicate.  The  conception  of 
.such  a  being  is  the  conception  of  God  in  its  transcendental  sense,  and  thus 
the  ideal  of  pure  reason  is  the  object-matter  of  a  transcendental  theology" 
(Critiqiie  of  Pure  Reason,  English  trans.,  pp.  354,  359). 

That  this  concept  does  exist  in  the  human  mind  and  that  it 
there  plays  an  important  part  are  facts  which  Kant  never  for 
an  instant  doubts.  But  what  remains  doubtful  is  whether  this 
concept  corresponds  to  a  positive  reality,  to  an  existence ;  for 
it  is  possible  for  us  to  have  an  idea  that  corresponds  to  no 
•object.  To  prove  the  objective  reality  of  this  concept  is  what 
we  are  concerned  with  in  the  demonstrations  of  the  existence 
of  God ;  and  the  examination  of  these  demonstrations  is  the 
object  of  Kant's  criticism. 

Kant  reduces  the  possible  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  to 
three :  Either,  he  says,  we  start  from  determinate  experience 
and  from  the  peculiar  constitution  of  the  sensible  world  (for 
•example,  from  the  order  and  harmony  of  this  world),  and  from 
this  order  infer  a  cause — this  is  what  is  known  as  the  proof 
by  final  causes,  which  Kant  calls  the  physico-theological  proof : 
or,  we  begin  from  a  purely  indeterminate  experience,  or  from 
any  existence  (considered  as  contingent  and  not  self-sufficient) 
in  the  sensible  world — this  is  the  proof  a  contingentia  mundi  or 
cosmological  proof ;  or,  we  abstract  from  all  experience,  and 
reason  a  priori  from  the  concept  to  existence — this  is  St. 
Anselm's  argument,  and  is  called  by  Kant  the  ontological 
proof. 

Such  are  the  only  three  possible  ways  of  proving  the  existence 
of  God,  and  Kant  subjects  them  successively  to  his  criticism, 
-commencing  with  the  ontological  argument,  to  which  he  reduces 
the  other  two. 

This  argument,  as  we  know,  is  based  on  the  definition  of 
God :  God  is  the  perfect  being  (a  definition  which  Kant 
accepts),  and  from  this  definition  existence  is  inferred.  For, 
.says  Descartes,  God,  who  possesses  every  perfection,  must 
possess  existence,  which  is  a  perfection  ;  therefore  God  exists. 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       303 

1.  Invalidity   of   the   ontological  proof. — To    this   reasoning 
Kant  makes   the   following   objections :    In   an   analytic   pro- 
position, if  I  suppress  the  predicate  (or  attribute)  and  retain 
the  subject,  or  suppress  the  subject  and  retain  the  attribute, 
the    result   would    no    doubt    be   a  contradiction.      But   if   I 
suppress  at  once  both  subject  and  attribute,  there  is  no  longer 
any  contradiction.     Consequently,  if,  in   the  proposition,  God 
exists,  I  suppress  the  attribute  (that  is,  existence),  I  at  the 
same  time  suppress  the  subject.     Where  is  then  the  contradic- 
tion ?     Again,  existence  is  not  a  real  attribute,  that  is  to  say,  it 
is  not  a  thing  which  can  be  added  to  the  concept  of  a  thing, 
but  simply  the  position  of  the  thing.      Otherwise  there  would 
be  one  attribute  more  in  the  being  that  exists  than  in   the 
being  that  is  thought,  which  is  impossible,  for  in   that  case 
thought  would  not  be  adequate.     A  hundred  real  crowns  has 
no  more  content  than  a  hundred  crowns  in  the  mind.     Lastly, 
the    proposition,    "  God    exists,"    is    either   an    analytic  or   a 
synthetic  proposition.     If  the  former,  the  attribute  adds  nothing 
to  the  subject;  and,  consequently,  the  existence  of  the  thing 
adds   nothing   to   the   thought   of  the   thing.     Therefore,  the 
thing  is  already  assumed  as  existing  and  real,  and  we  have  only 
a  tautology ;  so  that  the  argument  is  useless.      If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  proposition  is  a  synthetic  one,  how  can  it   be  main- 
tained that  the   attribute  cannot  be  suppressed  without  con- 
tradiction, since  this  is  only  true  of  analytic  propositions  ? 

2.  Invalidity  of  the  cosmological  proof. — This  proof,  instead 
of  reasoning  from  the  supreme  reality  to  existence,  infers,  from 
the  existence  of  any  being,  the  supreme  reality.      It  consists  in 
saying :  if  anything  exists   there  must  exist  a  being  which  is 
absolutely  necessary;  now  I   exist,  therefore,   etc.      But  this 
proof  goes  further,  for  from  this  absolutely  necessary  existence, 
it  infers  a  being  supremely  real  (ens  realissimum),  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  language  of  Descartes  and  Leibnitz,  a  perfect  being.      It 
is  the  second  part  of  the  argument  which,  strictly  speaking, 
constitutes    a    proof    of    the    existence  of    God,   for   a   being 
which  would  only  be  necessary  without  being  perfect  might 
as  well  be  matter  or    the  world.      It   is,  therefore,   assumed 
that  only  a   being  which  is  supremely  real,  that  is  to   say, 
perfect,  can   correspond  to  the  concept  of  necessary  existence, 
and    is   contained    in    it.       But   this    is    precisely   what    the 


304  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

ontological  argument  affirms :  therefore,  this  second  argument 
presupposes  the  first. 

Besides  this  fundamental  defect  in  the  cosniological  argu- 
ment, Kant  finds  the  following  flaws :  (1)  the  inference  from 
a  contingent  thing  to  a  cause  is  only  valid  in  the  sensible 
world,  and  has  no  significance  outside  it ;  (2)  the  impossi- 
bility of  an  infinite  series  has  not  been  proved ;  (3)  it  is 
believed  that  the  idea  of  necessity  excludes  any  conditional 
element,  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  every  necessity  presupposes 
a  condition ;  (4)  a  logical  possibility  (the  supremely  real 
being  which  has  nothing  impossible  in  itself,  but  which  has 
only  a  logical  possibility)  is  confounded  with  a  real  possibility 
which  has  meaning  in  experience  only. 

3.  Invalidity  of  the  physico-theological  proof. — The  title 
given  by  Kant  to  his  discussion  of  this  proof  is  inaccurate,  for 
in  this  third  discussion  he  claims  to  prove,  not  the  impossi- 
bility, but  the  insufficiency  of  the  proof  by  final  causes.  This 
proof  is  incomplete,  but  not  null,  and  in  this  it  differs  from 
the  two  others.  It  consists  of  the  following  four  points :  1st, 
there  are  in  the  world  manifest  signs  of  design ;  2nd,  the  order 
in  things  is  contingent,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  derived  from 
the  nature  of  things  themselves ;  3rd,  there  exists,  therefore, 
either  one  or  several  intelligent  causes  which  have  produced 
this  harmony;  4th,  the  unity  of  this  cause  is  inferred  from  the 
interdependence  of  all  the  things  that  go  to  make  up  the  world. 

This  proof  gives  rise  to  the  following  objections :  1st,  it 
proves  that  the  form  of  the  world  is  contingent,  but  not  its 
matter.  It  would  lead  us,  therefore,  to  infer,  at  most,  an 
architect  of  the  world,  but  not  a  creator;  2nd,  from  the  indica- 
tions of  design  found  in  the  world  we  can  only  reason  to  a 
cause  that  is  proportionate  to  the  number  and  value  of  these 
indications.  This  proof  would  lead  us,  therefore,  to  infer  a  cause 
that  was  most  wise,  but  not  to  an  absolutely  wise  cause,  since 
our  experience  makes  known  to  us  nothing  absolute,  and  since, 
moreover,  besides  these  signs  of  wisdom,  experience  shows  us 
irregularities  and  imperfections  which  we  are  unable  to  explain. 
If,  therefore,  we  conceive  this  cause  as  perfect  and  infinite,  it 
is  because  we  implicitly  assume  that  necessary  existence 
involves  perfection ;  but  in  so  doing  we  once  more  assume  the 
truth  of  the  ontological  argument. 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       305 

In  lieu  of  these  speculative  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God, 
which,  together  with  all  metaphysical  theories,  Kant  regards  as. 
chimerical,  he  proposes  the  only  proof  that  appears  to  him 
conclusive ;  this  is  what  he  calls  the  practical  or  moral  proof. 
Briefly,  this  proof  runs  thus :  The  notion  of  morality  is 
inseparably  joined  to  that  of  happiness.  For  the  moral  law 
may  be  stated  as  follows :  Act  so  as  to  be  deserving  of 
happiness.  But,  though  it  depends  upon  ourselves  to  perform 
actions  which  will  make  us  deserving  of  happiness,  that  this 
consequence  should  follow  does  not  depend  upon  us ;  for  happi- 
ness depends  011  external  things,  and  on  the  will  of  other  men. 
And  yet,  if  the  moral  law  is  not  a  chimera  the  sovereign  good 
must  be  possible;  in  other  words,  the  harmony  between  virtue 
and  happiness  must  be  realized.  For  this  there  is  needed  a 
will  higher  than  nature,  and  higher  than  man ;  and  this  cause 
is  God,  for  only  a  Supreme  and  Infinite  Being  is  capable  of 
establishing  this  coincidence.  We  must  add  that  at  times 
Kant  himself  leads  us  to  understand  that  this  proof,  which  he 
prefers  to  the  others,  represents  nevertheless  no  more  than  a 
point  of  view  of  the  human  mind,  an  ideal  satisfaction 
of  our  craving  for  justice;  in  a  word,  it  is  an  argument  which 
rests  upon  faith  rather  than  demonstration. 

Hegel : — Defence  of  the  Ontological  Argument. 

Since  Kant's  masterly  and  profound  disquisition,  nothing 
of  importance  has  been  contributed  to  this  subject,  if 
we  except  indeed  the  criticism  of  Kant's  criticism  made 
by  Hegel.  Hegel  admits  that  it  is  not  possible  to  pass 
from  the  sensible  world  to  God  by  means  of  any  argu- 
ment. Experience,  indeed,  affords  no  solid  ground  from 
which  we  might  rise  to  the  Absolute.  But,  all  the  same,  the 
cosmological  argument  is  not  void.  The  mistake  was  to  give 
it  the  form  of  a  syllogism,  whereas,  in  reality  this  proof  is 
nothing  else  than  the  expression  of  thought  itself,  which 
cannot  be  satisfied  by  the  finite  and  is  absolutely  unable  to  do 
without  the  idea  of  the  infinite.  Here  are  Hegel's  own  words : 

"  Man  is  a  being  that  thinks,  and,  therefore,  sound  common  sense,  as. 

well  as  philosophy,  will  not  yield  up  their  will  of  rising  to  God  from  and 

out  of  the  empirical  view  of  the  world.     The  only  basis  on  which  this  rise 

is  possible  lies  in  the  study  of  the  world,  which  is  made  by  thought,  as 

II.  U 


306  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

distinguished  from  the  senses  and  the  animal  nature.  Thought  and 
thought  alone  can  compass  the  essence,  substance,  universal  power,  and 
ultimate  design  of  the  world.  And  what  men  call  the  proofs  of  God's 
existence  are  seen  to  be  ways  of  describing  and  analysing  the  inward 
movement  of  the  mind,  which  is  the  great  thinker  that  thinks  the  data  of 
the  senses.  The  rise  of  thought  beyond  the  world  of  sense,  its  passage 
from  the  finite  to  the  infinite,  the  leap  into  the  super-sensible  which  it 
takes  when  it  snaps  asunder  the  links  of  the  chain  of  sense,  all  this 
transition  is  thought  and  nothing  but  thought.  Say  there  must  be  no 
such  passage,  and  you  say  there  is  to  be  no  thinking  ;  and  in  sooth 
animals  make  no  such  transition.  They  never  get  further  than  sensation 
and  the  perception  of  the  senses,  and  in  consequence  they  have  no 
religion. 

"And  it  is  because  they  do  not,  with  sufficient  prominence,  express  the 
negative  features  implied  in  the  exaltation  of  the  mind  from  the  world  to 
God,  that  the  metaphysical  proofs  of  the  being  of  God  are  defective  inter- 
pretations and  descriptions  of  the  process.  That  upward  spring  of  the 
mind  signifies  that  the  being  which  the  world  has  is  only  a  semblance,  no 
real  being,  no  absolute  truth  ;  it  signifies  that  beyond  and  above  that 
apparent  being,  truth  abides  in  God,  so  that  true  being  is  another  name 
for  God.  The  process  of  exaltation  might  thus  appear  to  be  transition, 
and  to  involve  a  mean,  but  it  is  no  less  equally  true  that  every  trace  of 
transition  and  means  is  absorbed,  since  the  world,  which  might  have 
seemed  to  be  the  means  of  reaching  God,  is  explained  to  be  a  nonentity  " 
(Logic,  "Wallace's  trans,  pp.  87,  88). 

Besides  thus  vindicating  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God 
in  general,  Hegel  also  attacks  with  much  force  Kant's  reason- 
ing against  the  ontological  proof,  and  adopts,  from  his  own 
point  of  view,  the  a  priori  argument. 

"The  unexampled  favour  and  acceptance  which  attended  Kant's 
criticism  of  the  ontological  proof  was  undoubtedly  due  to  the  illustration 
which  he  made  use  of.  To  mark  the  difference  between  thought  and 
being  he  took  the  instance  of  an  hundred  sovereigns,  which,  for  anything 
it  matters  to  the  notion,  are  the  same  hundred,  Avhether  they  are 
real  or  only  possible,  though  the  difference  of  the  two  cases  is  very  per- 
ceptible in  their  effect  on  a  man's  purse.  Nothing  can  be  more  obvious 
than  that  anything  we  only  think  or  fancy  is  not  on  that  account  actual, 
and  everybody  is  aware  that  a  conception  and  even  a  notion  is  no 
match  for  being.  Still  it  may  not  unfairly  be  styled  a  barbarism  in 
language  when  the  name  of  notion  is  given  to  things  like  a  hundred 
sovereigns.  .  .  .  Above  all,  it  is  well  to  remember  when  we  speak  of  God 
that  we  have  an  object  of  another  kind  than  any  hundred  sovereigns,  and 
unlike  any  particular  notion,  conceit,  or  whatever  else  it  may  be  styled. 
The  very  nature  of  everything  finite  is  expressed  by  saying  that  its 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       307 

being  in  time  and  space  is  discrepant  from  its  notion.  God,  on 
the  contrary,  ought  to  be  what  can  only  be  'thought  as  existing.' 
His  notion  involves  Being.  It  is  this  unity  of  the  notion  and  being  that 
constitutes  the  notion  of  God.  .  .  .  Besides,  the  paltry  strictures  which 
separate  being  from  thought,  can  at  best  disturb  the  process  of  the  mind 
from  the  thought  of  God  to  the  certainty  that  He  is  ;  it  cannot  take  it 
away.  It  is  this  process  of  transition,  depending  on  the  absolute  insepara- 
bility of  the  thought  of  God  from  His  Being,  for  which  its  proper 
authority  has  been  vindicated  in  the  theory  of  faith  or  immediate  know- 
ledge "  (Ibid.,  p.  91). 

We  have  nothing  further  to  add  to  our  account  of  the 
development  of  this  problem,  in  which  Hegel's  view  appears  to 
us  to  mark  the  culminating  point,  and  the  true  philosophic 
method.  We  need  merely  mention  that  the  French  spiritual- 
istic school  wholly  adopted  Hegel's  theory  on  this  subject,  and 
that  it  has  always  maintained  that  the  different  proofs  of  the 
existence  of  God,  as  given  in  the  logical  and  scholastic  form, 
are  only  the  external  side,  the  formal  exposition  of  the  imme- 
diate movement  by  which  we  reason  from  the  finite  to  the 
infinite,  think  the  infinite  in  the  finite,  and  by  which  God  is 
made  the  centre  and  the  foundation  of  thought. 

"  All  knowledge  of  truth,"  says  Cousin,  "  is  knowledge  of 
God,  and  the  direct  perception  of  truth  implies  an  indirect 
and  obscure  perception  of  God.  .  .  .  Knowledge  is  by 
nature  divine.  .  .  ,  Religion  is  essential  to  reason.  .  .  . 
As  there  is  being  in  all  thought,  all  thought  is  religious.  .  .  . 
Every  thought,  every  word,  is  an  act  of  faith,  a  religion  in 
itself  "  (Cousin,  Premiers  Fragments,  p.  291). 

2.  THEORIES  CONCERNING  THE  NATURE  OF  GOD. 

Descartes'  Theodicy ;  God  Cause  of  Himself ' ;  God  Creator  of 
the  Eternal  Truths ;  Theory  of  Continuous  Creation ;  The 
Divine  Veracity. 

We  now  pass  from  the  question  of  the  existence  of  God  to 
that  of  His  nature  ;  and  we  shall  begin,  as  always  when  deal- 
ing with  modern  philosophy,  by  examining  the  theodicy  of 
Descartes.  The  fundamental  principle  of  this  theodicy  is  that 
God  is  cause  of  Himself  (causa  sui),  which  is  already  under- 
stood in  the  statement  that  He  is  the  self-existent  Being. 
Descartes  certainly  appears  to  have  used  these  expressions 


308  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

literally,  for  he  says :  "  From  the  very  fact  that  I  am 
imperfect,  it  follows,  in  the  first  place,  that  I  do  not  owe  niy 
existence  to  myself ;  for  if  I  had  given  myself  being  I  should 
a  fortiori  have  given  myself  every  perfection,"  an  argument, 
says  Arnaulcl,  which  appears  to  imply  that  a  thing  may  give 
itself  being  before  it  exists.  It  was  objected  to  Descartes  that 
this  expression,  "  self -existent  being,"  whiqh  is  always  applied  to 
God,  can  only  be  understood  negatively,  and  simply  signifies 
that  a  thing  does  not  exist  through  any  other  being ;  and  that 
it  cannot  be  understood  in  a  positive  and  affirmative  way,  that 
is  to  say,  as  if  owing  existence  to  itself  as  cause. 

But  Descartes  replied  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  expression 
was  to  be  taken  in  a  positive  and  not  in  a  negative  sense ; 
otherwise  God  would  be  without  a  cause,  without  any  ratio 
essemli.  If  a  thing  could  exist  without  a  cause,  what  would 
become  of  the  axiom  of  causality,  without  which  it  is 
impossible  to  prove  the  existence  of  God  ?  This  axiom  should 
be  stated  thus :  Everything  has  a  cause ;  therefore,  God  Him- 
self must  have  a  cause,  and  that  cause  is  His  own  essence.  No 
doubt  God  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  His  own  efficient  cause,  but 
in  Him  the  formal  cause  or  essence  plays  the  part  of  the 
efficient  cause  and  is  analogous  to  the  efficient  cause,  just  as  the 
polygon  is  analogous  to  the  circle.  In  God  His  essence  is  the 
cause  of  His  existence.  It  is  because  He  is  supremely  perfect 
that  He  exists,  and  it  is  in  this  sense  that  He  is  His  own 
cause.  Thus,  as  we  see,  this  theory  finally  takes  us  back  to- 
the  ontological  proof  ;  for  it  is  because  in  God  existence  is  con- 
ditioned by  His  essence,  that  His  essence  can  be  employed  to 
prove  His  existence  (see  the  whole  of  the  discussion  with 
Arnaulcl,  Cousin's  ed.  Vol.  II,  p.  60,  et  seq.). 

This  theory  of  a  God  who  is  the  Cause  of  Himself  attributes 
the  greatest  possible  power  to  what  is  divine  (Rep.  5me*  Obj.  pp. 
448-455).  Thus  we  find  Descartes  exalts  the  omnipotence  of 
God,  and  teaches  not  only,  as  is  taught  in  every  form  of  Chris- 
tianity, that  He  created  the  world,  but  also  that  He  created  the 
eternal  truths.  Descartes  says  that  God  would  still  be  subject 
to  some  other  power,  as  Jupiter  was  to  the  Styx,  if  there 
existed  outside  and  above  Him  any  class  of  truths  which  He 
had  not  created ;  he,  therefore,  does  not  hesitate  to  state  that, 
if  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles, 


THE   EELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       309 

and  if  there  are  no  mountains  without  valleys,  it  is  because  God 
has  willed  it  so — a  doctrine  which  would  appear  to  violate  the 
principle  of  contradiction,  if  it  were  not  possible  to  take  it  in 
another  sense,  and  say  with  Descartes  himself,  that  "  God 
creates  not  only  existences,  but  also  essences  "  ;  for  this  implies 
that,  with  these  essences,  He  created  the  truths  and  relations 
that  result  from  them.  Thus,  God  created  space,  and  in  space 
the  triangle,  and  in  the  triangle  the  geometrical  laws  which 
arise  out  of  its  essence,  as,  for  example,  the  equality  of  its 
three  angles  to  two  right  angles.  God  creates  the  father  and 
the  son,  and  with  them  the  moral  relations  which  spring  from 
their  respective  essences. 

For  the  rest,  Descartes  makes  his  doctrine  appear  much 
more  plausible  than  at  first  sight,  by  saying  that,  in  God,  will 
and  intelligence  are  one — a  doctrine  which  is  after  all  not  so 
opposed  to  the  common  one,  since  Thomas  Aquinas  himself 
taught  that  in  God  all  attributes  together  are  one,  because  He 
is  pure  actuality.  According  to  the  doctrine  of  the  unity  of 
will  and  intelligence,  it  would  not  be  by  will  alone,  by  God's 
free  choice,  that  truth  was  created,  but  by  a  will  that  is 
identical  with  intelligence,  that  is  to  say,  something  quite 
other  than  what  we  ordinarily  call  will. 

Another  consequence  of  the  Cartesian  theory  of  divine 
omnipotence  is  the  doctrine  of  a  continuous  creation.  This 
doctrine  was  not  peculiar  to  Descartes,  for  it  really  belonged  to 
the  scholastics,  as  he  himself  mentions.  Descartes  teaches  that 
of  itself  the  creation  would  not  only  not  have  begun  to  exist, 
but  that  it  could  not  even  continue  to  so  exist ;  for,  he  says, 
the  moments  of  time  are  independent  of  one  another  ;  therefore, 
at  each  moment  of  a  being's  existence  the  cause  which  gave  it 
this  existence  must  continue  to  give  it  every  instant.  Con- 
servation is  nothing  else  than  creation ;  and  Descartes,  as  we 
have  seen,  made  use  of  this  principle  in  order  to  prove  the 
existence  of  God,  without,  as  he  said,  having  to  face  the  diffi- 
culty of  a  processus  in  infinitum  ;  for  the  question  is  not  so 
much  who  created  me  formerly,  as,  to  whom  do  I  owe  my 
present  conservation,  and  since  I  am  an  actual  thing,  there 
must  be  an  actual  cause  which  maintains  my  existence. 

Those  adversaries  of  Descartes  who  considered  his  physics 
only,  without  regard  to  his  metaphysics,  accused  him  of  atheism, 


310 

because  he  endeavoured  to  explain  the  universe  through  the 
laws  of  motion  alone.  "  Descartes,"  says  Pascal,  "  would 
willingly  have  done  without  God,  but  he  made  God  give  a 
fillip  to  the  world,  and  after  that  had  no  further  use  for  Him." 
But  the  folly  of  this  reproach  appears  when  we  consider  that 
if  God  created  the  laws  of  logic,  if  each  act  by  which  the  world 
is  preserved  is  a  moment  of  the  act  of  creation  in  general,  the 
world  in  its  logical  and  mechanical  development  is  just  as 
much  the  work  of  God  as  if  He  manifested  His  existence  by 
acts  that  were  purely  arbitrary. 

Leibnitz,  it  is  true,  reproached  Descartes  with  having  done 
away  with  final  causes  under  the  pretext  that  we  cannot  know 
the  Creator's  intentions :  but  Descartes,  while  he  upholds  no 
final  cause  in  particular,  still,  in  a  general  way,  proves  the 
existence  of  design  in  all  things  "  by  relying  on  no  other 
principle  than  that  of  the  infinite  perfections "  {Discourse 
on  Method,  V),  and  by  deducing  from  the  divine  immutability, 
which  is  a  consequence  of  the  divine  perfection,  that  funda- 
mental law  of  nature,  the  conservation  of  the  quantity  of 
motion :  a  lawr  which,  though  it  has  been  to  a  certain  extent 
modified  in  later  times  as  regards  the  terms  of  its  expres- 
sion, has  remained  none  the  less  the  basis  of  science.  This 
discovery  of  a  certain  immutable  quantity  in  nature,  whatever 
the  formula  of  this  quantity,1  is  one  of  Descartes'  great  achieve- 
ments. And,  far  from  excluding  God  from  the  world,  this 
law,  according  to  him,  is  a  certain  proof  of  the  divine  presence. 

Further,  Descartes  makes  his  theodicy  complete  by  the 
doctrine  of  the  divine  veracity  (Mtdit.  IV).  This  principle, 
which  is  also  derived  from  the  idea  of  perfection,  serves  as 
ultimate  basis  to  the  certitude  which  was  already  founded  on 
the  criterion  of  self -evidence.  The  divine  veracity  is  logically 
deducible  from  the  conception  of  a  Perfect  Being,  for  it  is 
impossible  that  such  a  Being  could  deceive  iis. 

It  is  true  that  it  might  be  questioned  whether  the  theory  of 
an  omnipotence  that  is  above  truth  itself,  is  not  somewhat 
prejudicial  to  the  foregoing  conclusion;  for  if  God  creates  truth, 
why  should  He  not  create  a  truth  that  was  relative  to  us,  but 

1  Descartes  called  it  quantity  of  motion,  Leibnitz  the  quantity  of  vital 
force.  Now  we  say  the  conservation  of  energy  (see  Poincarre,  appendices 
Em.  Boutroux's  ed.  of  the  Monadology). 


THE   RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES       311 

at  the  same  time  not  the  real  truth?  And  might  it  not  be  that 
our  mind,  by  its  own  constitution,  conceives  veracity  as  a  per- 
fection, whilst  indifference  to  truth  was  the  characteristic  of  a 
higher  nature  ?  However  this  may  be,  and  Descartes  does  not 
go  into  the  question,  it  is,  as  we  know,  upon  the  divine  veracity 
that  he  founds  the  existence  of  bodies,  for,  he  says,  we  have  an 
invincible  inclination  to  believe  in  this  existence.  Now,  this 
inclination  has  been  given  to  us  by  God ;  He  would,  therefore, 
be  deceiving  us  if  there  were  in  reality  no  bodies. 

Finally,  God  is  the  basis  of  certainty :  not  that  Descartes 
expressly  says  that  the  criterion  of  self -evidence  is  insufficient ; 
but,  as  we  cannot  always  go  through  the  same  reasoning,  we  are 
obliged  to  refer  to  our  memory  in  order  to  be  sure  that  we  have 
formerly  taken  such  or  such  a  thing  to  be  self-evident ;  and  it 
is  the  divine  veracity  that  is  our  warrant  of  the  truthfulness  of 
our  faculties,  and  consequently  of  our  memory.  Lastly,  as  has 
been  said,  if  self -evidence  suffices  as  a  logical  test  of  certainty, 
the  divine  veracity  serves  to  confirm  this  certainty  ontologically. 

To  sum  up :  God,  the  cause  of  Himself ; — His  essence  the 
cause  of  His  existence; — continuous  creation; — God  as  the  creator 
of  eternal  truths  ; — the  divine  immutability  as  the  foundation  of 
physics ; — divine  veracity :  these  are  the  essential  points  in  the 
theodicy  of  Descartes.  "We  shall  now  proceed  to  examine 
that  of  Malebranche. 

Malebranche :  The  Immediate  Vision  of  God ;  Vision  in 
God ;  Theory  of  Occasional  Causes ;  Optimism ;  Simplicity  of 
Ways  or  Methods  ;  The  Infinite  Motive  of  Creation. 

Malebranche,  as  we  have  already  seen,  simplified  Descartes' 
proof  of  the  existence  of  God  by  his  doctrine  of  the  idea  of  the 
Infinite.  Instead  of,  like  Descartes,  reasoning  from  the  idea 
to  its  object  as  from  an  effect  to  its  cause,  he  holds  that  the 
idea  of  the  Infinite  and  God  are  one  and  the  same  thing. 

God  is  known  not  through  an  idea,  but  He  is  it  in  Himself : 
"  if  He  is  thought,  He  is."  But  what  are  we  to  understand  by 
this  term  God  ?  For  Malebranche,  as  for  Descartes,  God  is  the 
infinitely  perfect  Being,  but  Malebranche  insists  more  than 
Descartes  on  God's  character  as  Being.  It  appears  to  him  super- 
fluous to  add  the  idea  of  perfection  to  that  of  being.  For  him 
God  is  "  the  universal  Being,  the  Being  of  Beings."  "  In  order  to 


312  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

know  what  being  is  we  must  always  remove  from  the  idea  of 
being  the  notion  of  such  and  such  beings "  (Entr.  Mttaph.  2  and 
8).  He  is  neither  body  nor  spirit ;  spirit  is  not  to  be  attributed 
in  the  same  sense  to  God  and  man.  "  God  is  Being  without 
restriction"  (21).  "The  Infinite  simply"  (12,  17).  "The 
indeterminate  being "  (23),  that  is  to  say,  "  being  that  is 
in  no  sense  limited."  Malebranche  tells  us  further  that  God 
is  incomprehensible.  "  When  I  speak  to  you  of  God,"  he  says, 
"  if  you  understand  what  I  say,  it  must  be  that  I  speak 
wrongly." 

Having  decided  this,  the  next  question  is  :  while  God  is 
our  immediate  object  when  we  address  Him,  do  we  see*  God  in 
His  substance  or  in  His  effects  and  by  participation  ?  Male- 
branche replies : 

"  I  do  not  deny  that  the  substance  of  God  is  seen  in  itself.  We  see  it 
in  itself  in  this  sense,  that  we  do  not  see  it  through  something  finite  that 
represents  it ;  but  not  in  the  sense  that  we  reach  it  in  its  simplicity,  and 
that  we  discover  in  it  His  perfections  (P.  22).  You  do  not  discover  that 
property,  which  is  essential  to  the  Infinite,  of  being  at  the  same  time  one 
and  all  things,  and  so  simple  that,  in  Him  each  perfection  contains  all  the 
others  without  any  real  distinction"  (P.  21). 

However  imperfect  this  vision  of  God  may  be,  yet  He  is  the 
only  being  we  perceive  in  itself.  All  other  beings  (at  least  all 
bodies)  we  only  perceive  in  God — such  is  the  celebrated  theory 
known  as  Vision  in  God.  Furthermore,  beings  are  not  only 
not  known  in  themselves,  but  are  also,  of  themselves,  incapable 
of  action.  They  are  merely  the  occasions  which  determine 
God  to  act.  This  is  the  theory  of  occasional  causes  which 
forms  the  second  part  of  Malebranche's  system.  God,  since 
He  is  the  sole  being,  is  also  alone  intelligible  and  the  only 
agent. 

In  the  first  place,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  strange 
expression,  "  We  see  all  thinys  in  God  "  ? 

We  have  to  distinguish  two  kinds  of  beings — the  soul  and 
the  body.  Properly  sneaking,  we  do  not  know  the  soul,  we 
have  no  idea,  but  only  a  confused  consciousness  of  it,  and  so 
Malebranche  does  not  say  that  we  see  souls  in  God,  but 
reserves  this  expression  for  bodies.  And  why  is  this  ? 
Because  bodies  alone  can  be  the  object  of  rational  cognition. 
They  alone  can  be  known  in  their  essence.  Only  in  the  case 


THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN  MODERN  TIMES       313 

of  bodies  are  we  able  to  deduce  their  properties  from  their 
essence,  which  is  extension.  The  science  of  bodies  is  geometry  ; 
but  there  is  no  geometry  of  souls,  of  these  we  only  have  an 
empirical  knowledge.  This  is  what  Malebranche  means  when 
he  says  that  the  soul  is  not  known  to  us  in  its  idea,  whereas 
bodie&  are  known  to  us  in  their  ideas,  that  is  to  say,  in  their 
essence. 

But  what  is  this  essence  ?  It  is  a  part  of  the  substance  of 
God  which  represents  to  us  the  bodies  created  by  Him 
(whether  these  bodies  exist  really  or  not).  God  creates  beings 
by  participation  in  His  substance.  There  is  therefore  in  Him 
something  which  is  an  a  priori  representation  of  these  beings, 
and  it  is  this  representation  itself  that  we  see  when  we  think 
we  see  bodies.  To  know  bodies  is  thus  to  knowr  God  as  repre- 
sentative of  bodies.  This  doctrine  becomes  still  clearer  if  we 
assume  in  God  an  intelligible  extension  which  differs  from 
corporeal  and  sensible  extension,  being  pure  and  immutable, 
the  ideal  of  extension  rather  than  a  concrete  and  definite 
extension.  Thence  it  follows  that  vision  in  God  is  but  the 
vision  of  the  divine  extension  in  which  we  draw  geometrical 
figures  which  are  the  essential  elements  in  bodies. 

Malebranche  further  explains  that  we  see  in  the  same 
manner  not  only  bodies,  but  the  universal  and  necessary 
truths,  that  is  to  say,  mathematical  and  moral  truths.  Both 
are  ratios,  but  the  former  are  ratios  of  quantity  and  the  latter 
ratios  of  perfection  (see  The  Ethical  Problem,  Chap.  I).  When- 
ever we  contemplate  these  two  kind  of  ratios,  God  reveals 
and  communicates  to  us  His  substance. 

As  God  is  the  sole  intelligible  being,  so  is  He  also  the  sole  agent, 
the  sole  cause ;  in  other  words,  finite  beings  are  merely  passive, 
and  in  them  only  phenomena  occur ;  but  these  phenomena  are 
for  God  an  occasion  of  action.  For  example,  the  movements 
of  our  body  are  for  God  the  occasion  on  which  He  creates 
sensations  in  our  souls,  while  the  desires  of  the  soul  are  an 
occasion  for  Him  to  create  movements  in  the  body.  But  why 
is  this  the  case  ?  Because  the  action  of  cause  implies  a 
necessary  relation  with  its  effect,  and  we  never  find  anything 
of  the  kind  either  in  our  internal  or  external  experience. 

Thus  Malebranche  had,  before  Hume,  perceived  the  difficulty 
involved  in  the  problem  of  causality.  We  see,  he  said,  like 


314  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Hume,  only  successions  of  phenomena,  and  not  the  inner 
connection  by  which  two  terms  are  joined.  Why  does  this 
connection  escape  our  perception  ?  Because  it  is  something 
divine,  something  to  which  there  is  nothing  analogous  in 
creatures  (Me'd.  Ghrtt.  IX,  2). 

"  If  we  come  to  consider  our  notion  of  cause  or  of  the  power  of  action, 
we  cannot  doubt  that  this  idea  represents  something  divine  "  (Reck,  de  la 
Ver.  VI,  iii).  "  To  assume  efficiency  in  creatures  is  to  divinize  them,  for 
all  efficiency  is  something  divine  and  infinite  "  (Me'd.  Chre't.  IX,  7).  "  It  is  a 
contradiction  to  say  all  the  angels  and  devils  together  could  move  a  bit 
of  straw  "  (Entr.  Metaphys.  VII,  10). 

In  these  two  theories  (Vision  in  God  and  Occasional  Causes) 
Malebranche's  theodicy  may  be  summed  up.  We  must  further 
mention  three  characteristic  doctrines  of  his  :  (1)  his  optimism  ; 
(2)  the  principle  of  the  simplicity  of  means ;  (3)  the  infinite 
motive  of  creation. 

As  regards  Malebranche's  doctrine  of  optimism  a  passage 
from  Fenelon  supplies  us  with  a  summary  of  it : 

"The  following  are  the  principal  conceptions  which  go  to  make  up 
his  system  :  1st,  God,  as  an  infinitely  perfect  being,  can  accomplish 
nothing  that  does  not  bear  the  mark  of  His  infinite  perfection  ;  so 
among  all  the  works  He  might  perform,  His  wisdom  always  determines 
Him  to  choose  the  most  perfect.  It  is  true  that  He  is  free  to  act  or  not 
act  outside  Himself,  but  supposing  He  does  act  He  must  produce  what- 
ever is  most  perfect,  being  thereto  invincibly  determined  by  the  order 
of  things.  It  were  unworthy  of  Him  not  to  conform  to  this  order" 
(Refutation  du  systeme  de  Malebrancke,  Ch.  1). 

This  is  a  correct  account  of  Malebranche's  optimism,  which 
is  identical  with  that  of  Leibnitz.  To  this  general  principle 
Malebranche  adds  two  others  which  are  peculiar  to  himself : 
1st,  the  principle  of  the  simplicity  of  ways  or  of  general  volitions ; 
2nd,  the  necessity  of  Incarnation  in  order  that  the  universe 
may  be  worthy  of  God. 

"  The  first,"  continues  Fenelon,  "consists  in  that  God  produced  the  most 
perf  ect  work  by  the  simplest  means.  He  might  have  added  many  apparent 
beauties  to  His  works,  but  He  could  not  do  so  without  derogating  from  this, 
simplicity  of  method.  But  what  is  this  simplicity  of  ways  or  of  method  ? 
God,  knowing  all  the  different  ways  of  doing  His  work,  will  choose  the 
one  that  will  cost  Him  the  smallest  number  of  particular  volitions,  the 
way  in  which  He  sees  that  general  volitions  would  be  most  fruitful.  He 


THE   EELIGIOUS  PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       315 

might  by  a  particular  volition  have  prevented  the  rain  from  falling  use- 
lessly on  to  the  sea,  but  it  is  more  perfect  in  God  to  spare  Himself  particular 
volitions  than  to  add  this  perfection  to  His  work." 

Here  is  the  third  principle : 

"  But  in  order  that  the  work  of  God  might  have  the  mark  of  infinite  per- 
fection, the  author  (i.e.  Malebranche)  adds  to  the  principle  of  the  simplicity 
of  means  a  second  principle,  which  is,  that  the  world  would  be  a  work 
unworthy  of  God  if  Jesus  Christ  had  not  formed  part  of  the  plan  of 
creation.  God  could  only  create  the  world  in  view  of  the  incarnation  of 
the  Word.  Even  if  man  had  never  sinned,  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ 
would  have  been  an  absolute  necessity." 

Thus  the  infinite  motive  of  creation  was  the  birth  and 
incarnation  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  this  way  Malebranche's  meta- 
physics merges  into  theology. 

As  we  see,  God  in  Malebranche's  system,  is  all.  He  is  the 
sole  light  and  the  sole  cause.  He  is  all  that  is  real  and 
intelligible  in  things,  and  He,  as  the  Word  incarnate,  is  further 
a  member  and  a  part  of  the  world.  Were  it  not  for  the 
Christian  piety  by  which  it  is  inspired  this  theory  would 
scarcely  be  distinguishable  from  that  of  Spinoza. 

Theology  of  Spinoza :  Unity  of  Substance  ;  The  Attributes  of 
God ;  Thought  and  Extension  ;  Divine  Freedom  and  Universal 
Necessity. 

Spinoza's  theodicy,  if  we  may  use  the  term,  cannot 
easily  be  distinguished  from  his  metaphysics.  We  shall,  how- 
ever, endeavour  to  limit  our  account  by  confining  ourselves  to 
his  doctrine  of  the  nature  of  God  and  by  recalling  what  has 
been  said  in  the  preceding  chapter  concerning  his  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God. 

Spinoza's  theory  of  God  may  be  brought  under  three  heads : 
1st,  God  is  the  only  substance ;  2nd,  the  only  attributes  we 
know  of  Him  are  extension  and  thought ;  3rd,  He  evolves 
Himself  necessarily  according  to  the  law  of  His  essence. 

It  is  generally  believed  that  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  the  unity 
of  substance  is  merely  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  definition 
borrowed  from  Descartes  :  "  Substance  is  that  which  is  in  itself 
and  is  conceived  through  itself  "  (Ethics  I,  Def.  3).  Hence  it  is 
said,  "  Since  substance,  by  its  definition,  is  being  in  itself,  it 
follows  evidently  that  there  can  only  be  one  substance,  for  there 


316  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

can  only  exist  one  being  in  itself  and  through  itself."  But  that 
Spinoza's  doctrine  is  not  essentially  connected  with  this  defini- 
tion is  proved  by  the  fact  that  in  the  book  which  gives  his  first 
sketch  of  the  Ethics,  that  is,  in  the  De  Deo  et  Homine,  Spinoza 
asserts  the  unity  of  substance  without  making  use  of  the 
Cartesian  definition.  Even  in  the  Ethics  he  does  not  employ 
this  definition  to  prove  the  unity  of  substance,  but  proves  it 
by  the  theorem  that  a  substance  cannot  be  produced  (I,  VI). 
"  For,"  he  says,  "  it  could  be  produced  only  by  a  substance 
having  different  attributes  or  by  a  substance  having  attri- 
butes in  common  with  it " ;  but  he  shows  that  both  of  these 
ways  are  alike  impossible.  Since  a  substance  cannot  be 
produced,  it  follows  that  every  substance  is  uncreated,  or, 
in  other  words,  that  every  substance  is  self-existent. 

This  being  the  case,  it  only  remains  for  him  to  prove,  like 
all  metaphysicians,  that  there  can  only  be  one  being  that  exists 
of  itself.  There  cannot  be  several  uncreated  substances,  for  the 
reason  that  there  cannot  be  several  infinities.  In  short, 
Spinoza's  definition  has  not  at  all  the  meaning  generally  attri- 
buted to  it ;  for  he  does  not  say  that  substance  is  being 
through  itself,  but  only  that  it  is  a  being  in  itself,  which  is  a 
very  different  statement,  since  it  expresses,  not  the  antithesis 
between  the  contingent  and  the  necessary,  but  the  antithesis 
between  mode  and  substance.  Modes  and  attributes  always 
exist  in  some  other  thing,  and  thus  Spinoza  calls  them 
inhaerentm ;  and  in  scholastic  language  inherence  is  the  law  by 
which  the  mode  or  attribute  is  united  to  the  substance.  Sub- 
stance, on  the  contrary,  is  not  inherent  in  anything,  does  not 
exist  in  another  thing,  and  since  it  does  not  exist  in  another 
thing  it  exists  in  itself,  is  in  itself.1  Similarly,  it  is  known  of 
itself,  that  is  to  say,  it  does  not  require  any  other  thing  in 
order  to  be  known,  unless  it  be  in  its  origin ;  but  as  far  as  I 
know  it  as  existing,  I  can  think  it  without  thinking  any  other 
thing.  These  are  indeed  the  true  characteristics  of  substance, 
and  it  is  hard  to  see  what  other  definition  could  be  given  of  it. 

1  It  will  be  noticed  that  in  this  definition  Spinoza  does  not  by  any 
means  say  that  substance  exists  through  itself,  but  only  that  it  exists 
in  itself,  and  is  known  through  itself,  which  is  quite  a  different  thing. 
It  is  by  the  previous  argument  that  Spinoza  proves  that  every  substance 
exists  through  itself,  and  consequently  that  there  can  be  only  one  substance. 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES        317 

But  it  remains  to  be  known  if  such  a  being  can  exist  and  yet 
not  be  just  the  uncreated  being,  and  this  is  Spinoza's  proposition. 
This  he  proves  by  saying,  that  if  such  a  substance  were  created, 
either  it  would  have  attributes  in  commom  with  the  creating 
substance,  and  in  that  case  it  would  be  identical  with  it,  because 
substances  only  differ  in  their  attributes ;  or  it  would  possess 
different  attributes,  in  which  case  one  could  not  be  the  cause 
of  the  other,  since  there  must  always  be  something  common  in 
cause  and  effect.  (The  effect  must  involve  the  concept  of  the 
cause.) 

Having  proved  God  to  be  the  only  substance,  and  hav- 
ing, like  Descartes,  defined  Him  as  the  being  whose  essence 
involves  existence,  Spinoza  now  proceeds  to  the  determination 
of  His  attributes.  God  possesses  an  infinite  number  of  infinite 
attributes.  Of  these  we  only  know  two — extension  and 
thought.  Before  he  tells  us  what  are  the  attributes  possessed 
by  God,  Spinoza  sets  forth  those  which  He  does  not  possess. 
Indeed,  it  is  only  in  the  second  part  of  the  Ethics  (De  Mente) 
that  Spinoza  proves  the  existence  of  the  two  attributes  in  God 
which  we  do  know,  namely,  extension  and  thought.  But 
in  the  first  Part  (I,  31,  32,  and  Schol.  of  Prop.  17)  he  proves 
that  God  has  neither  understanding  nor  will.  However, 
although  the  two  attributes  of  God  are  not  proved  in  the  first 
part,  they  are  implied  in  it.  For  Spinoza  proves,  (Schol.  of 
Prop.  15),  firstly  that  God  can  be  extended  without  being 
divisible ;  secondly,  that  understanding  and  will,  without  being 
divine  attributes  are  modes  of  the  divine  thought  (Props.  31 
and  32). 

In  order  to  prove  the  existence  of  thought  in  God,  Spinoza 
lays  down  this  axiom  :  man  thinks  (II,  ax.  2).  There  are,  there- 
fore, individual  thoughts,  that  is  to  say,  modes  which  presuppose 
an  attribute  without  which  they  cannot  be  conceived.  But  as 
all  things  are  in  God,  since  He  is  the  only  substance,  it  follows 
that  these  modes  are  in  God  and  conceived  by  God,  therefore 
the  attribute  whose  concept  they  imply  is  an  attribute  of  God. 
The  same  demonstration  serves  to  prove  the  existence  of 
divine  extension  (II,  Props.  1  and  2). 

Thus  Spinoza  attributes  to  God  thought,  but  neither 
understanding  nor  will  (I,  Prop.  17,  Schol.).  The  great 
difficulty  is  to  see  what  the  distinction  is  which  Spinoza  makes 


318 

between  understanding  and  thought.  This  he  does  not  tell  us 
expressly ;  but  either  the  term  thought  has  no  meaning,  or  it 
signifies  knowledge  pure  and  absolute ;  and  in  this  case  under- 
standing must  signify  discursive  and  relative  knowledge. 
Spinoza  denies  that  understanding  pertains  to  the  nature  of 
God,  because  there  can  be  nothing  common  to  human  nature 
and  the  divine,  and  because  the  divine  understanding  would 
only  have  the  same  resemblance  to  human  understanding 
as  the  dog,  sign  of  the  Zodiac,  has  to  the  dog,  the  barking 
animal.  , 

But  if  this  reasoning  be  accepted,  the  same  would  have  to  be 
said  of  thought;  and  how  then  would  the  divine  thought  be 
proved  ?  Is  it,  as  Spinoza  said,  merely  by  the  fact  that  man 
thinks  ?  How  can  divine  thought  be  the  cause  of  human 
thought,  since  the  effect  must  involve  the  concept  of  the  cause  ? 
We  must  then  say  that  if  understanding  is  not  in  God,  it  is 
because  it  is  a  finite  mode  of  thought  (discursive  understanding) ; 
on  the  other  hand  it  presupposes  pure  thought  or  what  we 
ourselves  would  call  intuitive  understanding. 

It  is,  indeed,  quite  evident  that  by  thought  Spinoza  does 
not  understand  merely  objective  thought  or  the  logical  and 
rational  laws  of  things,  but  also  subjective  thought,  or  the  act 
of  cognition.  This  follows  from  the  proposition  (II,  1,  Schol.), 
where  he  says,  "  The  more  things  a  thinking  being  can  think, 
the  more  reality  or  perfection  we  conceive  it  to  possess,  and, 
therefore,  the  being  which  can  think  an  infinitude  of  things  in 
infinite  ways  is  necessarily  infinite  by  his  power  of  thinking." 
Again,  Spinoza  says  (II,  Prop.  3,  Schol.),  "  God  understands 
Himself."  And  is  it  possible  to  understand  without  knowing  ? 
The  divine  thought  is  therefore  the  act  of  cognition  in  its  pure 
and  absolute  essence. 

We  now  proceed  to  the  question  of  the  divine  essence,  and 
it  is  here  especially  that  we  perceive  the  influence  of  Descartes 
•on  Spinoza.  Descartes'  philosophy  is  dominated  by  one  funda- 
mental doctrine,  the  dualism  of  thought  and  extension ; 
Spinoza  also  holds  this  dualism.  For  him,  as  for  Descartes,  the 
only  clear  and  distinct  ideas  we  have  are  the  ideas  of  thought 
and  of  extension  ;  for  him  also  these  two  ideas,  though  always  in 
correspondence,  are  heterogeneous,  and,  like  all  Cartesians,  he 
held  that  there  could  be  no  relation  between  them.  Finally, 


THE  RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       319 

for  Spinoza  again  the  whole  material  world  is  explained  by 
extension :  but  these  two  things,  instead  of  being,  as  011  the 
view  of  Descartes,  two  substances,  are  attributes  of  one  and 
the  same  substance. 

And  now,  how  is  the  principle  of  the  unity  or  indivisibility  of 
substance  (I,  Prop.  13)  to  be  reconciled  with  the  doctrine  of  the 
divine  extension  ?  In  order  to  solve  this  difficulty,  Spinoza 
draws  a  distinction  between  quantity  as  it  exists  in  the  imagin- 
ation and  senses,  and  quantity  as  it  exists  in  the  under- 
standing (Ibid.  Prop.  15,  Schol.).  It  is  only  the  surface  of  things, 
or  body,  that  is  divided  and  divisible ;  the  real  substratum  or 
substance  is  indivisible;  for  in  substance,  or  in  the  extended 
in  itself,  there  is  no  separation  of  parts.  All  the  arguments 
brought  against  the  divine  extension  spring  from  regarding 
extension  as  composed  of  finite  parts  ;  but  those  who  thus  make 
up  the  infinite  out  of  the  finite  fall  into  inextricable  contradic- 
tions. Again,  the  divine  perfection  is  adduced  as  an  objection 
to  this  doctrine ;  but  the  extended  in  itself,  being  indivisible, 
in  no  way  diminishes  the  perfection  of  God ;  and,  moreover,  as 
He  alone  exists,  and  as  nothing  exists  outside  Him,  He  is  not 
capable  of  suffering  or  receiving  any  modification  from  without. 

In  connection  with  his  theory  of  the  divine  nature,  we  find 
in  Spinoza  another  theory  which  is  obscure  but  important — 
that  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  modes.  Spinoza  holds  the 
existence,  between  the  attribute  and  the  mode  proper,  of  inter- 
mediate states,  which  are  not  attributes  but  modes,  although 
not  finite  modes  like  modes  properly  so  called.  "  They  were," 
says  Emile  Saisset,  "  emanations,  as  it  were,  which  served  to  fill 
the  chasm  and  form  the  transition  between  the  natura  naturans 
and  the  natura  naturata,  that  is  to  say,  between  God  and  the 
world."  The  existence  of  these  modes  is  proved  by,  the 
argument  (I,  21)  that  what  is  immediately  derived  from  the 
absolute  nature  of  a  divine  attribute  must  participate  in  the 
absolute  nature  of  this  attribute ;  it  must,  in  some  manner, 
express  this  absolute  nature,  and  to  do  this  must  itself  be 
infinite  and  eternal  (see  Part  III,  Ch.  Ill,  Mind}. 

Of  these  eternal  and  infinite  modes,  Spinoza  in  the  Ethics 
only  names  one — the  idea  of  God.  God  thinks,  says  Spinoza,1 
and  the  more  perfect  a  being  is  the  more  numerous  are  the 
objects  he  thinks.  God,  being  infinite,  thinks  an  infinity  of 


320  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

infinitely  modified  beings.  Now  an  infinity  of  infinitely  modified 
beings  is  God  Himself.  Therefore  God  thinks  God ;  therefore 
He  has  the  idea  of  God  (II,  3).  Hence  it  follows,  in  Spinoza's 
doctrine,  that  God  has  the  idea  of  Himself,  that  He  thinks, 
understands  Himself.  But  what  is  a  being's  thought  of  himself 
if  not  self -consciousness.  And  if  consciousness  be  attributed 
to  God  must  not  we  also  attribute  to  Him  personality,  at  least 
in  a  certain  degree  ? 

Can  one  call  a  God  who  thinks  God,  impersonal  ?  It  is 
true  that  Spinoza  places  the  idea  of  God,  not  in  the  natura 
naturans  or  divine  substance  itself,  but  like  all  modes,  in  the 
natura  naturata  (I,  Prop.  29,  Scholium,  and  Prop.  31).  But 
this  is  a  purely  abstract  distinction  notwithstanding  which 
Spinoza  certainly  admits  a  divine  consciousness.  It  would, 
however,  be  to  strain  Spinoza's  meaning,  and  to  give  to  his 
doctrine  of  God  an  Alexandrian  and  agnostic  sense  scarcely 
in  harmony  with  his  system  if  we  regarded  his  idea  of  God  as 
a  kind  of  hypostasis  or  fall  from  God,  a  thought  which  would 
contemplate  God  from  without,  or,  from  below,  without  itself 
being  God ;  for  there  is  nothing  in  his  writings  to  warrant 
such  an  interpretation.  Nor  would  it  be  more  rational  to  suppose 
that,  as  with  Hegel,  the  idea  of  God  had  existence  only  in  human 
thought.  This  doctrine  would  be  even  more  inconsistent  with 
the  spirit  of  Spinoza's  philosophy,  for  it  would  lead  to  the 
supposition  that  the  more  perfect  is  posterior  to  the  less 
perfect,  which  is  utterly  opposed  to  Spinoza's  principles.  The 
only  remaining  view  is,  then,  that  on  Spinoza's  doctrine  God  is 
conscious  of  Himself,  that  this  consciousness  follows  from  the 
absolute  nature  of  thought,  and  hence  that  it  is  God. 

There  remains  to  be  considered  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  the 
necessary  evolution  of  God  and  of  the  divine  freedom. 

Spinoza  lays  it  down  as  a  principle  that  God  is  a,  free  cause, 
and  that  He  is,  moreover,  the  only  free  cause  (I,  Prop.  17, 
Coroll.).  "  God  acts  from  the  laws  of  His  own  nature  only, 
and  is  compelled  by  no  one,"  and,  indeed,  since  nothing  can 
either  be  or  be  conceived  without  God  (Ibid.  Prop.  15),  it 
follows  that  He  can  be  determined  by  nothing  except  Himself. 
Therefore  He  is  free ;  and  He  is,  moreover,  the  only  free 
cause,  since  He  is  the  only  being  that  is  determined  by 
itself. 


THE   RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       321 

But  of  what  kind  of  freedom  does  Spinoza  here  speak  ?  Is 
it  what  is  generally  understood  by  the  term  "  freedom  of  will," 
the  power  that  is  possessed  by  a  being  of  doing  something 
different  from  what  he  does  ?  No  !  for  in  the  first  place,  God 
has  not  will  any  more  than  understanding.  Will,  as  well  as 
understanding,  belong  to  the  natura  naturata  or  the  world, 
and  not  to  the  natura  naturans  or  God.  Moreover,  to  attri- 
bute freedom  to  God  would  be  to  say  that  things  might  have 
been  different  from  what  they  are,  and  that  God  might  have 
had  a  nature  other  than  that  which  He  has;  in  other  words, 
that  He  is  not  supremely  perfect  (I,  33,  Schol.  2)  ;  that  He 
might  have  had  a  different  understanding,  a  different  will. 
Everyone  grants  that  in  God  understanding  is  actual,  and  that 
the  will  cannot  be  separated  from  the  intellect. 

Now,  if  God  had  been  able  to  act  otherwise  than  He  did,  He 
must  have  possessed  another  actual  intellect,  a  different  will,  a 
different  essence.  In  this  discussion  Spinoza  has  evidently  in 
his  mind  Descartes'  doctrine  of  the  absolute  freedom  of  God ; 
he  adds,  however,  that  he  prefers  the  doctrine  in  which  the  will 
is  made  subordinate  to  the  intelligence,  to  the  one  in  which 
the  intelligence  is  made  subordinate  to  the  will.  He  much 
prefers  the  "  good  pleasure "  theory  to  that  of  the  optimists. 
To  say  that  God  is  obliged  to  conform  to  the  model  of  the 
good  is  to  suppose  the  existence  of  a  something  outside  and 
above  Himself  to  which  He  "  looks  while  He  is  at  work  as  to 
a  model "  and  which  He  is  obliged  to  realize ;  and  thus  to  con- 
ceive Him  as  subject  to  a  fatum,  as  deprived  of  all  freedom 
(I,  Prop.  33,  Schol.  2). 

Thus  Spinoza's  doctrine  is  that  of  universal  determinism. 
Hence  the  following  propositions  : 

"  A  thing  which  has  been  determined  to  any  action  was  necessarily  so 
determined  by  God,  and  that  which  has  not  been  thus  determined  by 
God  cannot  determine  itself  to  action"  (I,  26).  "A  thing  which  has  been 
determined  by  God  to  any  action  cannot  render  itself  indeterminate"  (1,27). 
"  No  individual  thing  .  .  .  can  exist  or  be  determined  to  action  unless  it 
be  determined  to  existence  and  action  by  another  cause  .  .  .  and  again, 
this  cause  cannot  exist  or  be  determined  to  action  unless  by  another 
cause,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum "  (I,  28).  "  The  will  cannot  be  called  a  free 
cause,  but  can  only  be  called  necessary"  (I,  32).  "  Things  could  have  been 
produced  by  God  in  no  other  manner  nor  in  any  other  order  than  that  in 
which  they  have  been  produced"  (I,  33). 
II.  X 


322  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

Finally,  in  the  Appendix  to  the  first  book  of  the  Ethics, 
Spinoza  refutes  the  doctrine  of  final  causes,  which  is  connected 
with  that  of  the  divine  freedom.  He  finds  in  this  doctrine 
two  grave  errors :  1st,  that  of  giving  priority  to  what  is 
posterior,  of  regarding,  for  example,  vision  as  the  cause  of  the 
eye,  whereas  it  is  in  reality  its  effect ;  2nd,  that  of  reversing 
the  order  of  perfection :  for  the  cause  is  in  itself  more  perfect, 
being  nearer  to  God,  whereas  the  upholders  of  final  causes 
regard  the  effect  as  more  perfect  than  the  cause. 

To  sum  up,  the  essential  points  in  Spinoza's  teaching  con- 
cerning God  are :  His  existence,  with  absolute  perfection  as 
His  essence  ;  the  unity  of  substance ;  the  duality  of  its  attri- 
butes, which  are  thought  and  extension  ;  universal  determinism. 
After  such  an  exposition,  he  felt  that  he  might  conclude  with 
the  words :  "  I  have  now  explained  the  nature  of  God." 

Leibnitz  :  Optimism  ;  Metaphysical,  Physical,  and  Moral 
Evil ;  Bayle's  Objections  ;  Moral  Necessity ;  the  Divine  Freedom. 

The  doctrine  of  Leibnitz  is  fundamentally  opposed  to  that  of 
Spinoza.  It  is  opposed  to  both  Spinoza's  theory  of  an  absolute 
necessity  and  Descartes'  theory  of  absolute  freedom.  Leibnitz 
proposes  as  a  solution  the  intermediate  theory  of  a  moral 
necessity:  He  represents  God  as  obliged  to  conform  to  the 
principle  of  the  best  (optimum).  This  is  what  is  called  the 
doctrine  of  optimism. 

Theory  of  Optimism. — "  God  is  the  first  reason  or  cause  of 
things."  He  must  be  "  absolutely  perfect  in  power,  in  wisdom, 
and  in  goodness"  (Theod.  §7).  This  supreme  wisdom  joined 
to  an  infinite  goodness  "  could  not  fail  to  choose  the  best." 
For  "  if  this  were  not  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  God 
would  not  have  chosen  any  world  .  .  .  since  He  never  acts 
unless  in  accordance  with  supreme  reason  "  (Ibid.  8). 

Such  is  the  theory  of  optimism.  It  is  based  on  Leibnitz's 
celebrated  principle  of  sufficient  reason.  God  cannot  act 
without  some,  reason,  and  since  He  is  perfection  itself  this 
reason  can  only  be  the  choice  of  the  best ;  "  for  if  He  had 
chosen  one  less  good,  there  would  be  something  which  might 
be  improved  in  His  work." 

Thus  the  doctrine  of  optimism  is  proved  by  Leibnitz  a 
priori,  and  since  it  is  based  on  the  idea  of  perfection  itself,  this 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       323 

doctrine  cannot  be  disputed  on  the  ground  of  experience. 
The  existence  of  evil,  of  sin  and  pain,  is  urged  as  an  objection 
to  optimism.  But  if  these  were  abolished,  then,  indeed,  this 
would  not  be  the  best  of  possible  worlds. 

All  things  are  connected  (9).  The  conception  of  a  world  without 
suffering  and  without  evil  is  "  a  romance,  an  Utopia "  (10).  An  evil  is 
frequently  the  cause  of  a  good,  and  "  two  evils  make  a  good,  as 
two  liquids  make  a  dry  body"  (10).  "A  little  bitterness  is  often  more 
pleasing  than  sugar"  (12).  Men  say  that  the  evil  exceeds  the  good  :  this 
is  an  error  :  "  It  is  our  want  of  attention  that  diminishes  our  goods"  (13). 
Moreover,  "  We  must  not  be  too  ready  to  join  the  malcontents  in  the 
Republic,"  and  "it  is  a  vice  to  see  the  bad  side  of  everything"  (15).  As  for 
the  prosperity  of  the  wicked  in  this  world,  there  will  be  "  a  remedy  ready 
for  that  in  the  next  world"  (17). 

Leibnitz  then  goes  on  to  examine  the  more  speculative 
difficulties  concerning  the  origin  of  evil.  Si  Deus  est,  unde 
malum  ?  Si  non  est,  unde  ~bonum  ?  The  primary  cause  of  evil 
is  to  be  found,  according  to  him,  in  the  essential  limits  of  the 
creature,  that  is  to  say,  "  in  his  ideal  nature  in  so  far  as  this 
nature  is  included  in  the  eternal  truths  which  are  in  the 
Divine  mind."  In  this  sense  one  may  say  with  Plato,  that  the 
origin  of  evil  is  "  in  matter,"  provided  that  by  this  term  is 
understood  conditions  inherent  to  creatures,  in  so  far  as  these 
are  pre-represented  in  the  Divine  mind.  Evil  being  merely  a 
limitation,  or  a  privation,  has  therefore  no  efficient  cause,  but  only 
a  privative  (deficient^)  cause  (20). 

There  are  three  kinds  of  evil :  metaphysical  evil,  which 
consists  in  mere  imperfection ;  physical  evil  or  suffering;  and 
moral  evil  or  sin  (21). 

But  still  we  ask,  How  is  it  that  God  permits  evil  ?  There 
are  in  God  two  wills — an  antecedent  will  "  which  regards  each 
good  separately  "  and  in  virtue  of  which  "  God  aims  at  every 
good  as  a  good,"  and  a  consequent  or  final  will  which,  comparing 
goods  with  one  another,  can  only  will  them  in  so  far  as  they 
are  compossible,  and  when  united  would  produce  the  greatest 
possible  good.  Now,  evil  is  precisely  one  of  the  conditions 
of  this  greatest  good.  Consequently,  "  God  wills  antecedently 
the  good,  and  consequently  the  best "  (23). 

We  must  here  distinguish  between  physical  and  moral  evil. 
Speaking  absolutely,  God  can  never  will  either  the  one  or 


324  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  other.  But  physical  evil  He  may  will,  at  least  relatively, 
"  as  a  means  " ;  whereas  moral  evil  or  sin  He  can  will  neither 
absolutely  nor  relatively:  He  can  only  permit  it  as  "  a  condition 
sine  qua  non  "  (26). 

What  is  called  physical  concurrence  gives  rise  to  a  difficulty. 
Creation  implies  dependence,  this  dependence  requires  that 
God  be  always  present  for  the  maintenance  of  His  creatures ; 
and  some  have  even  said  "  that  the  conservation  of  creatures  is 
nothing  else  than  a  continuous  creation."  Without  going  so 
far  as  this,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  all  that  is  real  and 
effective  in  the  creature  comes  to  him  from  God,  and  that  he 
is  even  unable  to  act  without  the  co-operation  of  God.  This 
co-operation  is  called  concurrence,  concursus ;  and  when  we 
have  to  do  with  the  substance  of  an  act,  with  its  material 
reality  apart  from  its  moral  worth,  it  is  called  physical  concur- 
rence. This  being  the  case,  since  God  is  the  real  cause  of  all 
that  is  in  creatures,  and  since  He  co-operates  with  them  in 
their  actions,  He  must  be  the  efficient  cause  of  evil.  What 
becomes  now  of  the  principle  causa  deficiens,  non  efficiens  ? 

In  order  to  explain  how  it  is  that  God,  while  He  is  the  real 
cause  of  all  that  is  positive  in  His  creatures,  is  yet  not  the 
cause  of  evil,  Leibnitz  makes  use  of  a  comparison  which  is  both 
ingenious  and  profound.  Suppose  a  river  which  by  its  current 
carries  along  several  ships  diversely  laden,  the  current  of  the 
river  is  the  cause  of  the  motion  of  the  ships ;  but  as  these  bear 
different  freights  they  advance  with  more  or  less  speed,  and  the 
relative  slowness  of  each  is  proportionate  and  due  to  the 
weight  it  carries.  Thus  "  the  current  is  the  cause  of  the  speed 
of  the  ships,  but  not  of  the  limitations  of  this  speed."  In  the 
same  way  God  is  the  cause  of  whatever  real  or  efficient  action 
there  is  in  sin,  but  not  of  the  limits  of  this  action,  and  it  is 
precisely  in  these  limits  that  sin  consists  (30). 

Bayle' s  objections. — The  doctrine  of  Optimism  was  invented 
by  Leibnitz  as  an  answer  to  the  objections  which  Bayle  had 
brought  forward  on  the  ground  of  the  existence  of  evil.  The 
following  is  a  brief  account  of  this  controversy. 

Bayle  assumes  as  a  principle  that  "  benefits  bestowed  on 
men  tend  only  to  their  happiness."  God  cannot  permit  that 
they  should  serve  to  make  them  miserable  (119). 

Leibnitz   replies   by  denying,  or  at  least  by  narrowing  the 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       325 

application  of  the  principle  assumed.  "  It  is  not  strictly  true 
to  say  that  God's  benefits  tend  solely  to  the  happiness  of  His 
creatures.  All  things  in  nature  are  connected.  God  has  more 
than  one  object  in  view  in  His  projects.  The  felicity  of 
rational  creatures  is  one  of  the  ends  He  aims  at,  but  it  is  not 
His  whole  end  nor  even  the  ultimate  end  which  He  has  before 
Him.  The  unhappiness  of  some  among  them  may  occur 
concomitantly." 

Thus,  while  Bayle  considers  each  thing  individually,  Leibnitz 
on  the  contrary  regards  things  as  a  whole,  as  united,  as 
acting  and  reacting  upon  one  another. 

Bayle  declares  that  "  to  give  one's  enemy  a  silken  cord  which  one 
knows  for  certain  he  will  use  of  his  own  free  will  to  strangle  himself,  is  to 
deprive  him  of  his  life."  Whence  he  concludes  that  God  is  really 
responsible  for,  and  the  true  author  of  the  evils  which  their  freedom  brings 
upon  men,  since  He  knows  beforehand  the  use  they  will  make  of  it. 
Conversely,  "A  real  benefactor  gives  promptly  and  does  not  before  giving 
wait  until  those  he  loves  have  suffered  a  prolonged  misery." 

Also,  according  to  Bayle,  God  could  and  ought  to  bestow  His 
benefits  on  us  immediately,  and  not  let  us  buy  them  so  dearly 
by  trials  under  which  He  knows  the  larger  number  will 
succumb. 

"  All  these  propositions,"  says  Leibnitz,  "  turn  on  the  same  sophism. 
They  alter  and  distort  the  facts  ;  they  only  tell  half  the  truth,  suppress 
the  chief  point,  and  disguise  the  fact  that  it  is  of  God  we  speak.  It 
seems  as  if  one  were  dealing  with  a  mother,  a  guardian,  or  a  governor, 
whose  sole  care  almost  is  concerned  with  the  happiness  of  the  person  in 
question.  These  perpetual  anthropomorphisms  are  a  mockery  of  God. 
God  could  accomplish  the  good  which  we  wish  for ;  He  even  desires  it, 
taken  by  itself,  but  He  ought  not  to  accomplish  it  in  preference  to  other 
greater  goods"  (122).  Leibnitz  sums  up  his  theory  thus  :  "When  things 
are  taken  separately,  the  parts  from  their  whole,  the  human  race  from  the 
universe,  God's  attributes  from  one  another,  wisdom  from  power,  one  may 
say  that  God  can  cause  virtue  to  exist  in  the  world  unmixed  with  vice. 
But  since  He  has  permitted  vice,  it  must  be  that  the  order  of  the  universe 
demands  it"  (124). 

In  short,  in  the  whole  of  this  discussion  the  chief  reproach 
Leibnitz  has  to  make  against  his  opponent  is,  that  he  falls 
continually  into  anthropomorphism,  that  he  measures  the 
duties  of  God  towards  man  by  what  would  be  the  duty  of 
man  himself.  God  has  to  consider  not  only  man,  but  the 


326 

whole  universe ;  and  what  is  disorder  in  the  part  is  order  in 
the  whole.  "  Incivilc  est  nisi  iota  lege  inspecta  judicare  "  (128). 

The  objections  found  by  Bayle  on  the  ground  of  the 
existence  of  evil  led  him  to  discover  some  probability  in 
the  hypothesis  of  the  two  principles  of  good  and  of  evil,  the 
Manichaean  hypothesis,  that  is,  which  he  made  an  attempt  to 
revive.  While  acknowledging  that  it  is  easy  to  attack  this 
hypothesis  a  priori,  or  by  reasons  taken  from  the  nature  of 
God,  he  declares  that  a  posteriori,  when  we  come  to  the 
existence  of  evil,  it  has  the  advantage.  Therefore  he  asserts 
that  if  Manichaeism  is,  speculatively  speaking,  inferior,  it 
carries  the  day  in  the  explanation  of  phenomena,  which  is  the 
first  mark  of  a  good  system. 

Leibnitz  maintains,  on  the  contrary,  that  to  assign  to  it  a 
principle  invented  expressly  for  it  is  not  such  a  good  way  of 
explaining  a  phenomenon  (152). 

It  was  thus  they  proceeded  in  the  schools,  when  they  assumed  as 
many  faculties  as  there  are  operations — "A  chylific,  a  chimific,  a 
sanguine," — instead  of  explaining  phenomena  by  their  physical  or  mechani- 
cal causes.  Leibnitz  denies  that  there  is  a  principium  maleficum  any 
more  than  there  is  a  primum  frigidum.  "  Evil  comes  from  privation 
only,  what  is  positive  only  enters  into  it  concomitantly  "  (153). 

At  the  opposite  extreme  from  the  above  system  is  the 
opinion  of  those  who,  in  order  to  set  God  free  from  the  fatum, 
emancipate  Him  even  from  moral  necessity,  thus  setting  His 
power  above  His  wisdom  and  His  justice  (75).  Others  have 
even  gone  so  far  as  to  suppose  that  God  established  the 
distinction  between  good  and  evil  by  an  arbitrary  decree. 

To  say  this,  is,  according  to  the  forcible  expression  used  by  Leibnitz, 
"to  dishonour"  God  (171).  For,  if  He  established  justice  and  goodness 
arbitrarily,  "  He  can  unmake  them,  or  change  their  nature,  so  that  one 
would  have  no  reason  to  be  assured  that  He  will  always  observe  them 
Himself,"  and  the  case  would  be  the  same,  if  His  justice  were  radically 
different  from  ours.  "  If,  for  instance,  it  were  written  in  His  code  that 
it  is  just  to  make  the  innocent  eternally  miserable"  (Ibid.)  all  these 
theories,  and  others  similar  to  them,  would  "  make  God  act  as  a  tyrant 
or  an  enemy,"  and,  that  being  so,  "why  might  He  not  be  just  as  well 
the  evil  principle  of  the  Manichaeans  ?  "  (177). 

Among  similar  objectionable  doctrines  is  the  strange  opinion 
of  Descartes  (185),  which  ascribes  to  the  Divine  Will  not  only 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       327 

the  creation  of  the  good  and  of  justice,  but  also  of  truth.  No 
doubt  it  is  true  that  truth  has  its  foundation  in  God,  and  that, 
if  God  did  not  exist,  not  only  would  nothing  be  real,  but 
nothing  would  be  possible.  Thus,  if  it  were  not  for  God, 
geometry  would  have  no  basis.  But  "  it  is  the  divine  mind 
that  makes  the  reality  of  the  eternal  truths."  His  will  has 
no  part  in  it  (184).  In  fact  Leibnitz  could  not  believe  that 
Descartes  was  serious  in  maintaining  this  opinion  ;  this  was, 
he  says,  "  one  of  his  tricks,  one  of  his  philosophical  ruses.  He 
was  preparing  the  way  for  some  quibble,  and  I  suppose  he  had 
in  view  another  extraordinary  manner  of  speaking  of  his  own 
invention,  according  to  which  affirmations,  negations,  and,  in 
general,  all  internal  judgments  are  operations  of  the  will"  (286). 
In  this  case  these  truths  would  be  for  God  objects  of  will,  and 
not  of  intellect,  and  the  dispute  would  be  merely  a  verbal  one. 

The  theory  of  absolute  necessity,  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  that  of  absolute  freedom,  being  thus  set  aside,  there 
remained  only  the  doctrine  of  a  moral  necessity,  or  of  optimism, 
and  this,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  doctrine  that  was  adopted 
and  defended  by  Leibnitz.  The  remainder  of  his  Theodicy  is 
devoted  to  the  discussion  of  the  objections  which  might  be 
brought  against  it. 

Optimism  may  be  attacked  : 

1.  On  the  ground  of  experience,  by  pointing  out  the  defects 
in    the    world.       But    Leibnitz    replies :     "  They   who    do    so 
absurdly  set   themselves   up  as  censors  of  God's  work,"  like 
King    Alphonso  the    Wise,  who  imagined    he    criticised    the 
system  of  the  world,  while  in  reality  he  was  only  criticising 
Ptolemy's   system :    "  You  have  only  known  the  world  three 
days ;  you  scarcely  see  beyond  your  nose.  .  .  .     Wait  until 
you  know  it  better"  (194). 

2.  A  priori.     There  cannot  be  an  absolute  optimum.     There 
is  no  such  thing  as  a  perfect  creature ;  it  is  always  possible  to 
produce  one  that  would  be  more  perfect.    To  this  Leibnitz  boldly 
replies  that  the  world  is  "  an  infinite  "  (1 95).     Not  indeed  that 
it  is  absolute  like  God,  but  it  is  infinite  in  Pascal's  sense ;  that 
is    to    say,    "  that    it    extends    throughout     the     eternity    to 
come  .  .  .  and  that  there  is  an  infinity  of  creatures  in  the 
least  particle  of  matter."     Leibnitz  does  not  explain  how  this 
definition  of  the  universe  affords  a  reply  to  the  objection,  for, 


328  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

since  it  was  now  a  question  of  only  a  finite  or  created 
infinite,  it  was  possible  to  employ. against  his  argument  one  of 
the  laws  of  the  infinitesimal  calculus  which  he  himself  dis- 
covered, namely,  that  there  are  infinities  of  different  orders ; 
whence  it  would  follow  that  the  world  might  be  an  infinite, 
and  yet  there  might  be  a  higher  infinite  than  it.  Leibnitz,  we 
think,  gives  a  better  answer  a  little  further  on,  when  he  says : 

"One  might  say  that  the  whole  infinite  series  of  things  might  be  the 
best  that  is  possible,  though  what  exists  throughout  the  universe  in  each 
point  of  time  is  not  the  best.  It  may  be  that  the  universe  always  goes 
on  growing  better,  if  the  nature  of  things  were  such  that  it  is  not  possible  to 
attain  the  best  all  at  once  "  (202). 

3.  It  is  said  that   if  God  produced  always    the  best  "He 
would  produce  other  gods,"  but  this  is  an  error,  for,  "  if  they 
were  gods,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  produce  them  " ; 
moreover,  if,  to  suppose  the  impossible,  each  created  substance 
were  perfect,  all  substances  would  be  equal  and  similar  to  one 
another,  which  would  not  constitute  a  whole  that  was  in  itself 
the  best.     Here  again  the  order  and  connection  in  things  is 
lost   sight  of.      "  The   best    possible   system    would    then   not 
contain  gods.      It  would  be  always  a  system  of  bodies  (that  is 
to  say,  of  things  placed  in  time  and  space),  and  of  souls  which 
represent  and  perceive  these  bodies  in  accordance  with  which 
and  by  which  they  are  in  great  part  governed  "  (200). 

4.  It  is  said  that  what  is  best  as  a  whole  is  also  best  in  its 
parts,  just  as  in  geometry  any  part  of  a  straight  line,  which  is 
defined  as  the  shortest  way  from  one  point  to  another,  is  itself 
a  shortest  way ;  but,  says  Leibnitz,  it  is  not  possible  to  reason 
"  from  quantity  to  quality." 

"  If  goodness  and  beauty  always  consisted  in  something  that  was 
absolute  and  uniform,  such  as  extension,  matter,  and  other  homogeneous 
and  similar  things,  we  should  have  to  say  that  every  part  of  the  good  and 
of  the  beautiful  must  be  good  and  beautiful,  like  the  whole  ;  but  this 
is  not  the  case  with  relative  things  .  .  .  each  part  of  a  beautiful  thing  is 
not  always  beautiful,  since  it  must  be  detached  from  the  whole  or  com- 
prised in  the  whole  in  an  irregular  manner"  (212,  213). 

5.  To  regard  God  as  obliged  to  choose  the  best  is  to  limit 
His  power  (218-223).      But  "the  best  could  not  be  surpassed  in 
goodness,  and  we  do  not  limit  God's  power  by  saying  that  He 


THE   EELIGIOUS   PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       329 

could  not  do  the  impossible  "  (226),  any  more  than  if  we  were 
to  say  that  He  cannot  make  a  line  shorter  than  a  straight  line. 
And  to  maintain  that  in  fact  the  world  is  not  the  best 
possible,  since  there  is  evil  in  it,  is  to  go  back  to  what  has  been 
already  so  often  refuted.  If  there  were  a  better  world,  it 
would  have  been  preferred. 

6.  But  if  God  is  obliged  to  choose  the  best  He  is  then  not 
free,  but  subject  to  a  kind  of  fatuni.  This  objection  has  been 
already  frequently  refuted.  There  is,  if  you  will,  a  necessity, 
but  it  is  a  moral  necessity. 

"  To  say  that  one  cannot  do  a  thing  because  one  does  not  will  it  is  an 
abuse  of  terras.  The  wise  man  only  wills  the  good  ;  does  this  mean  that 
he  is  a  slave  ?  .  .  .  M.  Bayle  calls  by  odious  names  what  is  best  in  the 
world,  and  reverses  notions,  by  giving  the  name  of  slavery  to  the  state  of 
the  greatest  and  most  perfect  freedom  "  (228). 

The  theory  of  optimism  leads  up  to  the  theory  of  the  divine 
freedom  (337-360). 

"  The  prerogative  (avantage)  of  freedom  which  is  possessed  by  creatures 
exists  no  doubt  pre-eminently  in  God  ;  but  this  must  be  understood  in 
the  sense  that  freedom  is  truly  an  advantage,  and  does  not  presuppose 
an  •  imperfection.  To  be  capable  of  error  and  of  wrong-doing  is  a  dis- 
advantage, and  to  have  control  over  our  passions  is  an  advantage,  truly, 
but  one  which  presupposes  an  imperfection,  namely,  passion  itself  "  (337). 

There  is  therefore  an  intermediate  term  between  brute 
necessity  and  divine  freedom.  The  laws  of  nature,  and  more 
especially  the  laws  of  motion  (340-351),  are  neither  altogether 
arbitrary,  as  Bayle  affirmed,  nor  mathematically  necessary. 
Leibnitz  showed  that  the  principles  of  mechanics  are  not 
mathematically  necessary,  and  up  to  the  present  his  opinion 
has  not  been  disproved  by  science.  He  showed  that  the 
mechanical  laws  are  "  beautiful,  but  not  necessary "  (347). 
Similarly,  as  regards  the  union  of  the  soul  and  the  body,  he 
proves  that  the  "  laws  which  govern  this  union,  though  not 
necessary,  are  yet  not  indifferent,  and  that  there  must  be  a 
reason  for  them  in  the  divine  wisdom  "  (352-357). 

With  the  above  theories,  it  was  easy  for  Leibnitz  to 
solve  the  difficulties  involved  in  foreknowledge  and  providence. 
For,  if  freedom  does  not  exclude  determination  and  certitude, 
it  is  not  surprising  that  God  is  able  to  foresee  what  is  deter- 


330  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

mined.  "  He  sees  all  at  once  the  sequence  of  things  in  this 
world  ...  in  each  part  He  sees  the  entire  universe  on 
account  of  the  perfect  connection  between  things  "  (360). 

Leibnitz  dwells  especially  (383-400)  on  the  difficulties  which 
may  arise  out  of  the  Cartesian  doctrine  of  continuous  creation, 
a  doctrine  according  to  which  the  conservation  of  creatures 
was  merely  a  continuation  of  the  act  of  creation.  He 
indicates  (383,  384)  that  he  could  raise  doubts  concerning  the 
doctrine  itself  which  suggests  the  great  question  of  the 
continuum ;  but  he  does  not  wish  to  enter  into  this  labyrinth, 
and  contents  himself  with  saying  that  there  is  in  the  fact  of 
creation  a  continual  dependence  on  God,  and  that  this 
dependence  we  may  call  creation,  if  we  will,  provided  we  do 
not  go  so  far  as  to  make  creation  an  emanation  from  the 
Divine  (385).  Leibnitz,  while  he  holds  the  doctrine  of  a 
continuous  creation  thus  understood,  teaches  that  this 
doctrine  does  not  abolish  human  freedom  nor  the  special 
individuality  of  creatures.  "  The  production  or  action,"  he 
says,  "  by  which  God  produces,  has  a  nature  prior  to  the 
existence  of  the  creature  that  is  produced  ;  the  creature, 
taken  in  itself,  with  its  nature  and  necessary  properties,  is 
anterior  to  its  accidental  affections  and  to  its  actions.  .  .  .  God 
produces  the  creature  in  conformity  with  the  requirements  of 
the  preceding  instants,  according  lo  the  laws  of  wisdom  ;  and 
the  creature  acts  in  conformity  with  this  nature  which  God 
always  gives  him  when  He  creates  him  "  (385). 

The  18th  century. — Kant's  Theodicy:  God  the  Postulate  oj 
Morality ;  Faith  substituted  for  Knowledge. 

After  Leibnitz,  and  throughout  the  18th  century,  we  do 
not  find  any  original  systems  of  theodicy.  On  the  one  hand, 
there  flourished  a  crude  and  materialistic  atheism,  of  which 
Holbach's  System  of  Nature  was  the  very  mediocre  text-book ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  popular  deism  which  was  eloquently 
but  somewhat  unphilosophically  set  forth  by  J.  J.  Rousseau  in 
his  Profession  de  foi  du  vicaire  Savoyard.  We  may  mention, 
however,  as  having  a  certain  character  of  its  own,  the  philo- 
sophy of  C.  Bonnet  of  Geneva,  which  is  closely  connected  with 
that  of  Leibnitz,  but  which  contains  a  new  element  in  the 
theory  of  palingenesia  or  metamorphosis  and  progress,  under 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       331 

the  direction  of  Providence.  Notwithstanding  this  attempt, 
and  in  spite  of  the  important  part  played  at  this  period  by 
natural  theology,  we  must  acknowledge  that  it  was  not  till 
Kant  and  the  rise  of  the  German  School  that  a  new  note  was 
struck  in  the  philosophy  of  religion. 

Kant's  theodicy  is  virtually  that  of  Leibnitz,  with  this 
difference,  that  while  the  system  of  the  latter  was  speculative 
and  metaphysical,  Kant's  was  practical  and  moral.  Otherwise, 
optimism,  Providence,  the  Divine  Personality,  personal  immortal- 
ity are  all  doctrines  that  were  common  to  both  philosophers. 
In  Kant  we  find  no  trace  of  the  influence  of  Spinoza :  he  was 
a  disciple  of  Leibnitz  and  Eousseau.  But,  as  we  know,  he 
regarded  the  speculative  reason  as  utterly  incapable  of  arriving 
at  the  origin  or  ends  of  things.  The  whole  world  of  noumena, 
of  things  in  themselves,  is  closed  to  us,  and  consequently  the 
existence  and  Nature  of  God,  as  well  as  the  rest.  But  what 
we  cannot  learn  from  speculative  reason  is  revealed  to  us  by 
practical  reason,  and  thus  theodicy  is  restored  as  a  consequence 
and  a  condition  of  morality. 

For  all  moral  conceptions  tend  to  meet  in  the  one  supreme 
conception  of  the  Summum  Bonum.  This  sovereign  good  is 
neither  the  moral  good  by  itself  nor  the  physical  good  by 
itself;  neither  virtue  nor  happiness,  but  the  union  of  both. 
Happiness  without  virtue  or  virtue  without  happiness  are  both 
incomplete.  Nor  can  they  be  joined  together  in  an  analytic 
proposition,  for  neither  can  happiness  be  reduced  to  virtue  nor 
virtue  to  happiness  ;  and  yet  they  are  necessarily  joined  together 
in  our  minds,  in  an  a  priori  synthetic  judgment. 

Thus  the  sovereign  good  is  necessary ;  it  must  therefore  be 
possible.  But  it  is  not  possible  under  the  conditions  of  sensible 
and  phenomenal  existence.  There  must,  then,  be  another 
mode  of  existence  in  which  this  supreme  good  can  be  realized, 
and  there  must  be  an  agent  capable  of  bringing  about  this 
realization.  Hence  follow  the  two  postulates  of  the  practical 
reason :  the  existence  of  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 
We  have  here  to  do  with  the  former  postulate  only. 

"  I  term  the  idea  of  an  intelligence  in  which  the  morally  most  perfect 
will,  united  with  supreme  blessedness,  is  the  cause  of  all  happiness  in  the 
world,  so  far  as  happiness  stands  in  strict  relation  to  morality  (as  the 
worthiness  of  being  happy),  the  Ideal  of  the  Supreme  Good.  It  is  only, 


332  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

then,  in  the  ideal  of  the  supreme  original  good  that  pure  reason  can  find 
the  ground  of  the  practically  necessary  connection  of  both  elements  of 
the  highest  derivative  good,  and  accordingly  of  an  intelligible,  that  is, 
moral  world.  Now,  since  we  are  necessitated  by  reason  to  conceive 
ourselves  as  belonging  to  such  a  world,  while  the  senses  present  to  us 
nothing  but  a  world  of  phenomena,  we  must  assume  the  former  as  a 
consequence  of  our  conduct  in  the  world  of  sense  (since  the  world  of 
sense  gives  us  no  hint  of  it),  and  therefore  as  future  in  relation  to  us. 
Thus  God  and  a  future  life  are  two  hypotheses  which,  according  to  the 
principles  of  pure  reason,  are  inseparable  from  the  obligation  which  this 
reason  imposes  upon  us"  (Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  p.  491,  Eng,  trans.). 
"  It  may  be  called  Faith,  that  is  to  say  a  pure  Rational  Faith  "  (Dialectic 
of  Pure  Practical  Reason). 

From  this  principle  Kant  thought  it  possible  to  deduce  all 
the  moral  attributes  of  God,  these  attributes  being  the  only  ones 
that  really  concern  mankind. 

"This  moral  theology  has  the  peculiar  advantage,  in  contrast  with 
speculative  theology,  of  leading  inevitably  to  the  conception  of  a  sole, 
perfect,  and  rational  First  Caus^,  whereof  speculative  theology  does  not 
give  us  any  indication  on  objective  grounds,  far  less  any  convincing 
evidence.  For  we  find  neither  in  transcendental  nor  in  natural  theology, 
however  far  reason  may  lead  us  in  these,  any  ground  to  warrant  us  in 
assuming  the  existence  of  one  only  Being,  which  stands  at  the  head  of  all 
natural  causes,  and  on  which  these  are  entirely  dependent.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  we  take  our  stand  on  moral  unity  as  a  necessary  law  of  the 
universe,  and  from  this  point  of  view  consider  what  is  necessary  to  give 
this  law  adequate  efficiency  and,  for  us,  obligatory  force,  we  must  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  one  only  supreme  will,  which  comprehends 
all  these  laws  in  itself.  For  how,  under  different  wills,  should  we  find 
complete  unity  of  ends  ?  This  will  must  be  omnipotent,  that  all  nature 
and  its  relation  to  morality  in  the  world  may  be  subject  to  it :  omniscient, 
that  it  may  have  knowledge  of  the  most  secret  feelings  and  thus  moral 
worth  ;  omnipresent,  that  it  may  be  at  hand  to  supply  every  necessity  to 
which  the  highest  weal  of  the  world  may  give  rise;  eternal,  that  this 
harmony  of  nature  and  liberty  may  never  fail "  (Ibid.,  p.  493). 

The  harmony  between  virtue  and  happiness  is  what  has 
been  named  the  kingdom  of  grace.  Kant  adopts  this  expres- 
sion, and  this  kingdom  of  grace,  which  he  calls  elsewhere  the 
kingdom  of  ends,  is  nothing  else  than  the  intelligible  world  as 
opposed  to  the  sensible  world. 

We  must  remember  that  we  have  not  here  a  demonstration 
addressed  to  reason,  but  simply  a  postulate  that  is  demanded 
by  practical  necessity,  an  act  of  faith,  but  of  a  faith  that  is 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN  MODERN  TIMES       333 

"  purely  rational."  It  is  the  consequence  of  our  needs  and  of 
our  interests.  Speculative  reason  can  only  yield  hypotheses ; 
but  the  demands  of  practical  reason  are  postulates.  It  is  a 
consequence  that  flows  from  'duty.'  The  good  man  can 
say  :  "  I  will  that  there  be  a  God."  In  this  instance  alone 
my  judgment  is  inevitably  determined  by  my  interest. 

Fichte  and  Schelling  :   Different  Forms  of  Pantheism. 

Fichte,  who  was  the  greatest  of  Kant's  disciples,  did 
not  accept  the  practical  theology  of  his  master,  at  least  as 
consequent  or  dependent  upon  morality,  for  he  identifies  it 
with  morality  itself.  Later,  he  went  further  than  Kant  in  the 
opposite  direction,  and  transformed  this  moral  theology  into  a 
mystic  theology  which  he  borrowed  from  the  Alexandrians. 
Such  are  the  two  phases  in  Fichte's  religious  philosophy. 

In  his  first  work,  on  account  of  which  he  was  accused  of 
atheism,  and  which  was  entitled  On  the  Belief^  in  a  Divine 
Government  of  the  World  (1798),  Fichte  reproduces  Kant's 
criticism  of  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God.  Demonstra- 
tion, he  says,  does  not  produce  faith,  it  is  faith  that  gives 
rise  to  demonstration.  He  accepts,  above  the  sensible 
and  phenomenal  world,  only  an  intelligible  world  or  moral 
order  in  which  the  divine  resides.  To  act  as  we  ought 
without  thought  of  the  consequences,  that  is  the  divine 
for  us.  To  act  in  view  only  of  the  happy  or  unhappy 
consequences  of  our  acts  is  atheism.  Faith  in  the  moral  order 
is  the  whole  of  religion.  This  active  and  living  moral  order  is 
itself  God.  We  need  not  go  beyond  this  moral  order  nor 
accept  a  moral  being  as  its  cause.  This  order  is  in  itself 
the  absolutely  first,  das  dbsolut  Erste.  Morality  and  religion 
are  absolutely  identical.  Religion  without  morality  is  super- 
stition. Morality  without  religion  is  empty.  He  who  believes 
in  duty  believes  in  God,  and  already  participates  in  the  life 
eternal. 

Thus  Fichte  did  away  with  the  last  vestiges  of  moral  theo- 
logy which  still  remained  in  Kant's  theory,  and  put  in  their 
place,  as  has  been  said,  a  kind  of  moral  pantheism  or  idealistic 
Spinozism,  in  which  moral  laws  take  the  place  of  the  natural 
laws.  In  his  reply  to  the  accusation  of  atheism,  he  retorts  by 
saying  that  it  is  his  opponents  who  are  atheists.  "  Our 


334  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

idealistic  doctrines  alone  are  capable  of  bringing  about  a 
revival  of  religious  feeling,  and  of  enabling  men  to  penetrate 
into  the  true  essence  of  the  Christian  religion." 

Later,  Fichte  no  longer  restricted  the  notion  of  God  to  the 
moral  order,  but,  on  the  contrary,  absorbing  the  moral  order  in 
the  Divine  Being,  made  the  supreme  beatitude  lie  in  the  union 
of  the  soul  with  the  absolute  One. 

"  Blessedness  consists  in  union  with  God,  the  One  and  Absolute.  We, 
however,  in  our  unalterable  nature,  are  but  Knowledge,  Representation, 
Conception  ;  and  even  in  our  union  with  the  Infinite  One,  this  the  essential 
form  of  our  Being,  cannot  disappear.  Even  in  our  union  with  him  he 
does  not  become  our  own  Being  ;  but  he  floats  before  us  as  something 
foreign  to  and  outside  of  ourselves,  to  which  we  can  only  devote  ourselves 
by  clinging  to  him  with  earnest  love.  He  floats  before  us,  as  in  himself 
without  form  or  substance,  without  on  our  part  a  definite  conception  or 
knowledge  of  his  inward  essential  nature,  but  yet  as  that  through  which 
alone  we  can  think  or  comprehend  either  ourselves  or  our  World. 
Neither  after  pur  union  with  God  is  the  world  lost  to  us  :  it  only 
assumes  a  new  significance.  .  .  .  The  Divine  Existence  is  absolutely 
through  itself,  and,  of  necessity,  Light,  namely,  inward  and  spiritual 
Light.  This  Light,  left  to  itself,  separates  and  divides  itself  into  an 
infinite  multiplicity  of  individual  rays  ;  and  in  this  way,  in  these 
individual  rays,  becomes  estranged  from  itself  and  its  original  source. 
But  this  same  Light  may  also  again  concentrate  itself  from  out  this 
separation  and  conceive  and  comprehend  itself  as  One,  as  that  which 
it  is  in  itself,  the  Existence  and  Revelation  of  God"  (Doctrine  of  Religion, 
Lecture  V). 

Thus,  Fichte's  Moral  pantheism  ended  in  a  Metaphysical 
pantheism,  which  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of 
Plotinus.  The  moral  order  is  merged  in  the  Being  of  which 
the  human  mind  is  the  consciousness  and  the  revelation ; 
the  Holy,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good  are  an  immediate 
manifestation  in  us  of  the  essence  of  God.  Fichte  thought 
that  this  was  the  true  interpretation  of  the  gospel  according 
to  St.  John. 

Schelling's  theology  is,  like  Fichte's,  an  Idealistic  pantheism, 
in  which  God  is  all  and  the  world  nothing.  This  pantheism 
would  seem  to  be,  as  was  said  of  Spinoza,  and  as  Fichte  said 
of  himself,  acosmism  (negation  of  the  world)  rather  than  atheism. 
Like  every  other  pantheism,  Schelling's  doctrine  consisted  in 
transferring  to  finite  things  the  qualities  of  the  infinite. 


THE   RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       335 

But  what  is  peculiar  to  Schelling  is  the  revival  of  the  old 
doctrine  of  a  desceut,  which  he  borrowed  from  the  Alexandrians, 
or  rather,  perhaps,  from  the  Gnostic  sects.  Schelling  asks  how 
the  finite  can  come  out  of  the  infinite,  and  examines  not  only 
the  mystery  of  creation  but  even  that  of  the  incarnation. 
"  The  finite  cannot  come  out  of  the  infinite  by  way  of  degra- 
dation and  diminution."  Between  the  divine  perfection  and 
the  phenomenal  world  there  lies  an  abyss  which  is  a  veritable 
non-being.  Schelling  thinks  that  the  origin  of  the  finite  can 
only  be  conceived  as  a  leap  (saltus),  a  complete  rupture  with 
the  Absolute  (ein  Vollkommenes  firbrechen),  a  kind  of  falling 
away  or  defection  from  the  Absolute  (in  einer  Entfern- 
ung,  einem  Abfall  von  dem  Absoluten),1  and  so  Schelling  tells 
us  that  the  phenomenal  world  has  only  an  indirect  relation  to 
the  Absolute.  No  finite  thing  can  arise  immediately  out  of  the 
Absolute,  and  yet  this  fall  is  itself  absolute  and  comes  from  the 
Absolute.  Who  could  understand  the  meaning  of  such  contra- 
dictory assertions  ?  And  in  what  are  they  more  intelligible 
than  the  dogma  of  creation  ? 

Thus,  if  there  is  evil  in  the  world,  it  is  the  world's  own 
fault,  and  so  much  the  worse  for  it.  Why  did  it  desire  to 
become  the  world  instead  of  remaining  in  the  bosom  of  God  ? 
In  reality,  this  doctrine  amounts  to  the  dualism  of  the  ancients ; 
for  if  the  world  separated  itself  from  God,  it  must  have  had 
already  an  independent  existence  in  God;  for  it  is  not  com- 
prehensible that  God  would  revolt  against  Himself  and  that 
one  part  of  His  being  would  aspire  after  an  independent 
life  and  play  the  part  of  a  sham  absolute,  instead  of  remaining 
united  with  the  true  absolute  of  which  it  was  an  essential  part. 

In  his  final  philosophical  system,  which  he  himself  called  a 
Positive  Philosophy,  and  set  forth  in  two  great  works,  The 
Philosophy  of  Mythology  and  The  Philosophy  of  Revelation, 
Schelling' s  chief  anxiety  is  to  separate  himself  from  Hegel's 

JIt  must  be  clearly  understood  that  this  is  not  a  falling  on  the  part  of  the 
Absolute  itself,  for  in  that  case  the  genitive  would  be  used  in  German,  des 
Absoluten.  It  is  a  fall,  a  leap  from  the  Absolute.  But  then,  what  is  it  that 
falls,  what  is  it  that  leaps  away,  since  it  is  not  the  Absolute,  and  the  Absolute 
alone  exists?  It  would  seem  as  if  it  were  another  absolute  which  is  separated 
from  the  first  as  its  image,  without,  however,  having  any  reality.  The  type  of 
this  fall,  says  Schelling,  is  Fichte's  Ego  posiltinrj  itself.  It  is  not  only  a  fact 
,(Thatsache)  but  an  activity  (Thathandlung). 


336  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

logical  pantheism.  He  does  not  go  back  on  his  earlier 
Philosophy,  but  he  calls  it  a  negative  Philosophy,  based 
only  on  the  principle  of  the  understanding,  and  he  pro- 
poses another  founded  on  the  principle  of  the  will.  He 
does  not,  however,  renounce  what  he  calls  monism,  that  is, 
the  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  substance,  but  he  re-establishes 
the  notion  of  the  Divine  Personality.  Hartmann  calls 
his  system  the  pantheism  of  personality,  personalistischer 
pantheismus. 

Hegel's  Theology. 

Hegel's  philosophy  of  religion  is  so  much  an  element  of  his 
general  system  that  it  is  not  easy  to  consider  it  apart.  The 
predominating  conception  in  this  theodicy,  if  one  may  so  call 
it,  is  that  of  God  as  not  only  the  Universal  Being  in  itself, 
Substance,  but  also  and  above  all,  spirit,  absolute  Spirit.  He 
objects  to  Spinoza's  conception  of  God  as  substance,  as  being 
inferior  and  inadequate.  Substance  is  a  moment  of  thought, 
but  not  thought  in  its  totality.  God  is,  then,  Spirit,  but  what 
is  spirit  ?  It  is  this  that  is  difficult  to  determine.  As 
it  has  been  said  of  Fichte,  that  his  system  is  a  moral  pan- 
theism ;  so  we  may  call  Hegel's  system  a  logical  pantheism, 
a  panlogism.  For  Hegel,  all  reality  is  ideal.  All  that  is 
rational  is  real ;  all  that  is  real  is  rational.  But  the  rational 
is  the  principle  of  the  real.  This  principle,  considered  in 
itself,  prior  to  any  development,  is  then,  neither  the  One  of 
the  Alexandrians,  nor  Spinoza's  Substance,  nor  the  Monad  of 
Leibnitz.  It  is  the  Idea.  The  Idea  in  itself  is  not  God, 
but  only  the  first  logical  reason  of  all  things.  But  it  gets 
out  of  itself,  or  externalizes  itself  (a  process  very  difficult  to 
understand,  and  which  excited  ridicule  on  the  part  of  Schelling, 
although  his  own  theory  of  a  fall  from  the  Absolute  is  not 
much  more  comprehensible) ;  the  Idea  becoming  other  than 
itself  is  what  we  call  nature ;  then,  returning  from  nature  to 
itself,  it  becomes  what  we  call  spirit.  Spirit  is  thus 
the  reflected  Idea,  the  return  of  the  Idea  upon  itself,  the 
Idea  aware  of  and  knowing  itself;  in  a  word,  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  Idea.  But  God  is  not  only  Spirit,  but  absolute 
Spirit.  He  is  therefore  the  all-knowing  Idea,  pure  and 
absolute  self-consciousness. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       337 

This  being  Hegel's  definition  of  God,  it  may  be  asked  in 
what  does  his  conception  differ  from  that  of  the  theists, 
from  a  personal  God  ?  For  is  not  consciousness  the  peculiar 
characteristic  of  the  personal  God  ?  But  in  Hegel's  philosophy 
this  absolute  consciousness  of  God  appears  -  to  exist  only 
in  the  human  mind.  It  would  seem  that,  for  him,  God's 
consciousness  of  Himself  is  nothing  more  than  man's  con- 
sciousness of  God.  It  is  as  man  that  God  is  conscious  of 
Himself.  For  in  his  Philosophy  of  Spirit  Hegel  recognizes 
no  other  form  of  the  Absolute  Spirit  besides  Art,  Religion,  and 
Philosophy,  and  shows  us  nothing  whatever  above  these. 
Finally,  philosophy  itself  passes  through  successive  phases,  of 
which  the  highest  is  the  system  of  Hegel ;  whence  it  follows 
that  the  highest  consciousness  of  God  is  Hegel's  consciousness : 
in  fact  Hegel  is  God.  This  is  the  only  logical  conclusion  that 
can  be  drawn  from  this  theodicy.  It  may  be  asked  how  the 
character  of  Absolute  Spirit  can  be  attributed  to  a  mere 
philosophical  opinion ;  yet  it  is  difficult  to  see  any  other 
meaning  in  Hegel's  philosophy,  and  he  never  gives  us  reason 
to  think  that  the  Absolute  Spirit  exists  in  itself,  independently 
of  its  forms.  Thus,  in  Hegel  we  find  once  more  a  system  of 
Pantheism,  but  one  that  is  more  idealistic  and  more  abstract 
than  that  of  Spinoza. 

SchopenJiauer  and  Hartmann  :  Pessimism. 

After  the  great  period  of  philosophical  evolution  in 
Germany,  which  began  with  Kant  and  culminated  in 
Hegel,  we  have  only  to  notice  in  connection  with  theodicy 
the  rise  of  pessimism,  due  to  the  school  of  Schopen- 
hauer and  Hartmann.  Like  all  the  Germans,  both  these 
philosophers  uphold  the  doctrine  of  immanence,  which  is 
pantheism ;  but  they  change  its  principle.  In  place  of 
Hegel's  Idea  or  Schelling's  Absolute  we  have,  in  Schopenhauer, 
the  principle  of  Will ;  in  Hartmann,  the  principle  of  the 
Unconscious. 

The  transition  from  the  absolute  to  the  relative,  from  the 
infinite  to  the  finite,  is  not  any  clearer  on  their  theories  than 
on  those  of  their  predecessors.  With  Hegel  the  Idea  ex- 
ternalized itself;  with  Schopenhauer  Will  objectivizes  itself. 
Xhe  difference  is  merely  verbal,  and  it  is  not  here  that 

II.  Y 


338  THE   PROBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

the  originality  of  Schopenhauer  and  Hartmann  lies,  but  prin- 
cipally in  their  substitution  of  pessimism  for  optimism.  Why 
does  the  will  objectivize  itself  ?  "Why  does  it  produce  the 
illusion  which  we  call  the  world  ?  Of  this  we  are  in  com- 
plete ignorance.  All  we  know  by  experience,  and  for  certain, 
is  that  this  world  is  a  bad  dream,  "  the  worst  of  all  possible 
worlds."  Optimism,  says  Schopenhauer,  is  the  greatest 
rubbish  that  has  yet  been  invented  by  professors  of  philo- 
sophy.1 Not  only  is  the  testimony  of  experience  in  favour  of 
pessimism,  but  so  is  that  of  reason  also.  Will  involves  effort, 
and  effort  is  painful ;  to  will  is  to  suffer,  to  will  is  to  be, 
therefore  the  whole  of  life  is  suffering. 

"  The  act  of  willing,  and  effort,  which  is  its  essence,  are  like 
an  insatiable  thirst.  Life  is  but  a  struggle  for  existence  with 
the  certainty  of  being  conquered.  To  will  without  motive, 
forever  suffering,  forever  striving,  then  to  die,  and  so  on  for 
century  after  century,  until  the  crust  of  this  planet  of  ours 
crumbles  away,  this  is  Life." 

While  these  pessimistic  theories  were  leading  German 
thought,  not  only  from  theism,  but  from  even  the  optimistic 
pantheism  of  the  great  school  of  Schelling  .  and  Hegel, 
Biichner,  in  his  return  to  the  atheistic  materialism  of  the  1 8th 
century,  represented  a  complete  and  abrupt  break  with  these 
schools.  The  author  of  Force  and  Matter,  like  the  ancient 
Epicureans,  attacked  the  doctrine  of  final  causes :  the  existence 
of  irregularities  in  creation,  of  useless  or  harmful  organs, 
of  monstrosities,  all  seemed  to  him  to  prove  that  the  fatal 
forces  of  matter  have  given  birth  to  innumerable  forms, 
among  which  the  only  ones  to  survive  were  those  which  were 
appropriate  to  their  circumstances  and  to  the  conditions  of  their 
environment.  It  seemed  as  if  the  great  effort  of  Critical  and 
Idealistic  Philosophy,  which  lasted  from  Kant  to  Hegel,  was  to 
go  for  nothing,  seeing  that  German  thought  had  ended  by 
returning  purely  and  simply  to  Baron  Holbach  and  his  System 
of  Nature  (see  Janet's  Mate"rialisme  contemporairi). 

1  It  is  unfortunate  for  this  piece  of  witticism  that  the  modern  inventors  of 
optimism  were  Leibnitz  and  Malebranche,  neither  of  whom  was  a  professor  of 
Philosophy  any  more  than  were  Pope,  who  expresses  this  doctrine  in  verse, 
and  J.  J.  Rousseau,  who  defended  it  against  Voltaire. 


THE   RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM   IN   MODERN   TIMES       339 

Scottish  Philosophy  :  Hamilton  and  Mansel ;  Religious 
Criticism. 

In  England  and  Scotland  the  philosophy  of  religion  con- 
tinued, as  in  the  18th  century,  to  furnish  a  large  number  of 
works  on  natural  theology  based  on  the  doctrine  of  final 
causes  as  supported  by  examples  borrowed  from  science. 
These  attempts  contained  nothing  new  (see  Remusat,  La 
Philosophic  rcligicuse  en  Angleterre). 

Of  much  greater  interest  is  the  philosophy  of  Hamilton,  who 
aimed  at  demolishing,  by  means  of  the  Kantian  criticism,  all 
claims  on  the  part  of  metaphysics  to  act  as  a  support  of 
Christian  theology.  His  was  a  kind  of  theological  scepticism 
not  unlike  that  with  which  Pascal  has  been  reproached. 
According  to  Hamilton,  not  only  was  Kant's  criticism 
successful  in  demonstrating  the  antinomies  of  rational  cos- 
mology and  the  paralogism  of  rational  theology,  but  this 
principle  was  not  carried  far  enough;  for  it  preserved  the  idea 
of  the  Absolute  as  an  idea,  and  as  a  regulative  principle 
of  reason.  Hamilton  objects  to  this  concession,  and  reproaches 
Kant  with  not  having  completely  eliminated  the  concept  of  the 
Absolute ;  and  he  asserts,  as  a  consequence  of  the  Kantian 
critique,  the  doctrine  of  a  wise  ignorance.  Cognoscendo  ignorare, 
et  ignorando  cognoscere.  Quacdam  nescire  magna  pars  est 
sapientiae.  He  even  applies  this  doctrine  to  the  idea  of  God, 
and  quotes  these  words  of  an  old  philosopher :  "  a  God  under- 
stood would  be  no  God  at  all." 

Like  Kant,  but  with  even  more  precision,  Hamilton  points 
out  the  contradictions  involved  in  the  ideas  of  the  Absolute 
and  the  Infinite.  But  while  he  excludes  God  from  real 
knowledge,  he  regards  Him  as  an  object  of  Faith.  "  By  a 
wonderful  revelation  we  are  thus  in  the  very  consciousness  of 
our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative  and  finite, 
inspired  with  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  something  uncon- 
ditioned beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensible  reality " 
{Discussions:  Philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned,  p.  15). 

Man  sell,  a  disciple  of  Hamilton,  carried  his  master's 
doctrine  much  further,  and  made  use  of  it  especially  in  defence 
of  the  mysteries  of  the  Christian  religion.  His  conclusion  is, 
that  we  must  not  measure  God's  attributes,  and  above  all  His 
mercy  and  justice,  by  human  attributes.  "  It  is  impossible  to 


340  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

account  for  every  phenomenon  if  we  represent  God  to  ourselves 
according  to  the  standards  of  our  philosophy  and  merely 
human  morality.  Sin,  physical  pain,  the  misfortunes  of  the  good, 
the  prosperity  of  the  wicked,  all  these  are  facts  which  can  no 
doubt  be  reconciled,  though  we  know  not  how,  with  God's 
infinite  goodness,  but  only  on  condition  that  the  type  of  this 
goodness  is  not  the  goodness  of  man."  Whence  he  concludes 
that  God's  attributes  are  not  only  different  in  degree,  but  also 
in  essence,  from  our  human  attributes.  If  a  child  may  be 
mistaken  in  his  judgments  of  the  actions  of  men,  a  fortiori 
man  may  be  mistaken  when  he  judges  the  actions  of  God. 
To  this  theory  Stuart  Mill  replies,  with  some  reason  it  would 
seem,  that  there  may  no  doubt  be  limiting  conditions  of  which 
we  are  ignorant ;  nevertheless,  either  we  mean  nothing  when  we 
speak  of  the  divine  goodness  or  any  other  divine  attribute,  or 
we  understand  by  this  term  something  that  is  substantially  the 
same  as  that  which  we  call  goodness.  While  it  may  therefore 
be  admitted  that  in  all  religion,  whether  natural  or  revealed, 
there  is,  besides  the  part  attributed  to  knowledge,  a  very  large 
element  of  belief,  at  the  same  time  where  there  is  no  know- 
ledge there  can  be  no  belief.  For  what,  Mill  truly  remarks, 
would  be  belief  in  something  that  was  absolutely  unknown  and 
incomprehensible,  as,  for  example,  if  I  were  told  to  believe  that 
Humpty  Dumpty  is  an  Abracadabra  ?  The  attempt  to  found 
religious  belief  upon  ignorance  is  therefore,  according  to  Mill, 
as  vain  as  it  is  dangerous. 

Auguste  Comte :  The  Law  of  the  Three  Stages  ;  The  JReligion 
of  Humcfnity. 

In  the  opinion  of  Auguste  Comte,  the  founder  of  Positivism, 
the  religious  idea  is  only  one  phase  of  human  thought,  and  it 
is  the  first.  The  human  mind  passes  through  three  different 
stages :  the  theological,  the  metaphysical  and  the  scientific 
stage.  Hence  three  methods,  and  three  Philosophies.  In  the 
theological  stage  the  human  mind  directs  its  attention  wholly  to 
the  inner  nature  of  beings,  to  first  and  final  causes,  and  conceives 
phenomena  as  produced  by  the  direct  and  continuous  action  of 
a  larger  or  smaller  number  of  supernatural  agents,  by  whose 
arbitrary  intervention  all  the  apparent  anomalies  in  the  world 
can  be  explained.  The  metaphysical  stage  is  the  one  in  which 


THE  RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM  IN   MODERN  TIMES       341 

the  mind  replaces  the  supernatural  agents  by  hypostasized 
abstractions,  such  as  causes,  substances,  essences,  soul,  God,  free 
will,  etc.  The  positive  stage,  finally,  consists  in  abandoning 
the  search  of  the  Absolute,  in  putting  aside  questions  of  origin, 
and  in  confining  ourselves  to  the  observation  of  phenomena 
and  of  their  invariable  relations.  This  last  stage  is  the 
final  stage  of  mankind ;  consequently,  the  religious  attitude 
of  mind  and  also  every  religious  idea  must  disappear. 
Auguste  Comte  does  not  ignore  the  services  rendered  to  the 
human  mind  by  religious  ideas  whether  in  the  theological  or 
metaphysical  form,  but  he  holds  that  this  order  of  ideas  has 
passed  away  and  yielded  its  place  to  positive  science. 

Such  were  the  views  of  Auguste  Comte  in  the  first  period 
of  his  philosophy,  but  this  philosophy  underwent  a  consider- 
able modification,  and  in  its  second  phase  showed  itself  in  a 
completely  different  light.  His  object  now  was  not  to  do 
away  for  ever  with  the  religious  element,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
to  satisfy  this  element  by  a  transformation  which  would  bring 
it  into  harmony  with  modern  thought.  This  second  phase  is 
what  Auguste  Comte  calls  the  subjective  phase  of  positivism, 
and  it  rests  not  on  reason,  but  on  feeling.  Hence  a  new 
religion,  the  positivist  religion,  the  religion  of  humanity. 

"  In  the  religion  of  A.  Comte  (Ravaisson,  Philosophie  du 
dix-neuvieme  siecle)  there  is  no  God  and  there  is  no  soul,  at  least 
no  immortal  soul.  Humanity  is  the  Supreme  Being.  Comte 
calls  it  the  Grand  fitre.  The  Grand  Eire,  has  for  its  origin 
the  world,  the  common  source  of  all  beings,  which  Comte  calls 
the  Grand  Fetiche.  The  world  is  in  space,  which  in  its  turn  is 
the  Grand  Milieu.  The  great  Environment  (milieu),  the  great 
Fetiche,  the  great  Being  constitute  the  positivist  trinity.  The 
Grand  Fetiche,  in  order  to  give  birth  to  the  Great  Being,  reduced, 
lowered,  and  sacrificed  itself,  and  we  owe  to  it  a  cult  of  grati- 
tude. But  it  is,  above  all,  humanity  that  represents  divine 
perfection,  and  in  humanity  it  is  woman  that  should  be  the 
object  of  worship.  This  cult  is  the  commemoration  of  the 
dead,  and  more  especially  of  those  women  who  have  realized 
the  ideal  of  self-devotion  and  tenderness ;  and  in  this  remem- 
brance immortality  lies. 

Such  a  religion  was  hardly  more  than  a  return  to  paganism  ; 
except  for  the  worship  of  woman,  which  was  borrowed  from 


342  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

Christianity.  But  however  crude,  and  however  unphilosophical 
it  may  have  been,  this  religion  of  A.  Comte  is  sufficient  to  dis- 
prove the  law  according  to  which  the  religious  idea  presents  a 
lower  stage  in  the  evolution  of  man. 

Herbert  Spencer  :  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution  ;  The  Religion 
of  the  Unknowable. 

The  philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer,  which,  though  it  denied 
its  origin,  was  really  a  branch  of  positivism — a  branch,  however, 
that  was  so  fully  developed  as  to  become  itself  a  stem,  one  might 
almost  say  a  wide-spreading  tree — offers,  like  that  of  Auguste 
Comte,  two  theories  of  religion. 

According  to  Herbert  Spencer,  the  realm  of  existence  is 
divided  into  two  regions :  the  knowable  and  the  unknowable. 
The  knowable  is  the  sole  object  of  science,  but  beyond  the 
realm  of  knowledge  there  is  the  unknowable,  concerning  which 
we  only  know  one  thing,  that  it  is.  There  are  therefore  two 
doctrines  of  religion,  one  of  which  starts  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  knowable,  and  the  other  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  unknowable.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  know- 
able,  religion,  like  all  the  facts  that  go  to  make  up  the 
universe,  must  be  explained  by  facts,  and  made  subject  to  the 
law  of  evolution,  according  to  which  all  things  begin  in  an 
elementary  fact,  which,  by  a  necessary  aggregation  of  different 
elements  grouped  around  it,  finally  becomes  an  increasingly 
complicated  whole.  The  elementary  fact,  Herbert  Spencer 
says,  from  which  religion  originally  springs  is  what  he  calls  a 
man's  "  double,"  the  appearance  of  a  thing  itself  and  of  its 
image — of  one  who  sees  himself  in  the  water,  or  in  dreams,  or 
who  sees  in  dreams  people  who  no  longer  exist ;  the  fact  that 
a  person  is  followed  by  his  shadow,  and  that  the  souls  of  the 
dead  are  represented  to  us  as  shades.  This  same  fact  was 
employed  as  an  explanation  of  religion  by  the  Epicureans. 

This  double  is  what  we  call  a  Spirit ;  and,  by  generalization, 
everything  has  its  double,  and  there  are  spirits  everywhere. 
Gradually  these  spirits  form  hierarchies,  groups  and  series,  and 
become  gods.  Finally,  they  are  made  subordinate  to  a  single 
spirit,  which  begins  by  being  the  highest  God,  and  finally  be- 
comes the  only  God.  The  most  spiritual  form  of  monotheism 
is  only  a  subtle  transformation  of  the  nai've  theology  of  savages. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  PROBLEM  IN   MODERN   TIMES       343 

It  would  seem  then   that  on   this  theory  religion   is   nothing 
more  than  superstition. 

But  through  another  aspect  of  this  doctrine,  Herbert 
Spencer  thinks  he  has  found  the  legitimate  basis  of  the 
religious  feeling.  This  feeling  is  profoundly  rooted  in  human 
nature,  and  is  in  its  essence  the  veneration,  the  respect,  or 
attraction  even,  which  we  feel  for  all  that  is  higher  than  our- 
selves. 

"The  belief  in  the  omnipresence  of  something  which  is  beyond  our 
intelligence  is  the  most  abstract  of  all  beliefs  and  one  which  all  religions 
possess  in  common.  This  belief  has  nothing  to  fear  from  the  most  in- 
exorable logic.  Here  then  is  an  ultimate  truth  of  the  utmost  possible 
certainty,  a  truth  upon  which  all  religions  are  agreed,  and  which  is  also 
in  agreement  with  science.  For  the  power  of  which  the  universe  is  the 
manifestation  is  impenetrable." 

From  this  elevated  standpoint,  Herbert  Spencer  attacks  the 
religion  of  the  positivists,  the  worship  of  great  men,  the 
religion  of  humanity. 

But  how  can  these  two  theories  be  reconciled  when,  accord- 
ing to  the  one,  religion  is  a  mere  superstition,  and,  according  to 
the  other,  is  what  is  most  deeply  rooted  in  the  human  mind  ? 
Can  a  superstition,  that  is  to  say  a  delusion,  evolve  into  a 
religion  which  is  true  ? 

"But  how  can  such  a  final  consciousness  of  the  Unknowable,  thus 
tacitly  alleged  to  be  true,  be  reached  by  successive  modifications  of  a 
conception  which  was  utterly  untrue  ?  The  ghost-theory  of  the  savage 
is  baseless.  ...  Is  not  the  developed  and  purified  conception  reached 
by  pushing  the  process  to  its  limits  a  fiction  also  ?  Surely  if  the  primitive 
belief  was  absolutely  false  all  derived  beliefs  must  be  absolutely  false " 
{Nineteenth  Century  Review,  Jan.  1887). 

Herbert  Spencer's  reply  to  this  objection  is,  substantially, 
that  in  his  principle  the  earliest  conceptions  were  not  abso- 
lutely false,  but  contained  the  germ  of  a  truth,  namely,  that  the 
force  which  manifests  itself  in  consciousness  is  only  a  different 
form  of  the  force  that  manifests  itself  outside  consciousness. 

"Every  voluntary  act  yields  to  the  primitive  man  proof  of  a  source  of 
energy  within  him.  .  .  .  That  internal  energy  which  in  the  experiences 
of  the  primitive  man  was  always  the  immediate  antecedent  of  changes 
wrought  by  him — that  energy  which,  when  interpreting  external  changes, 
he  thought  of  along  with  those  attributes  of  a  human  personality  connected 
with  it  in  himself,  is  the  same  energy  which,  freed  from  anthropomorphic 


344 

accompaniments  it  now  figured  as  the  cause  of  all  external  phenomena. 
The  last  stage  reached  is  recognition  of  the  truth  that  force,  as  it  exists 
beyond  consciousness,  cannot  be  like  what  we  know  as  force  within  con- 
sciousness, and  that  yet,  as  either  is  capable  of  generating  the  other,  they 
must  be  different  modes  of  the  same  thing.  Consequently,  the  final  out- 
come of  that  speculation  commenced  by  the  primitive  man,  is  that  the 
power  manifested  throughout  the  Universe  distinguished  as  material,  is 
the  same  power  which  in  ourselves  wells  up  under  the  form  of  conscious- 
ness" (/fo'd  Jan.  1884). 

The  French  Spiritualistic  School :  Victor  Cousin ;  Emile 
Saisset :  Spiritualistic  Theism. 

The  French  spiritualistic  school  of  the  beginning  of  the  1 9th 
century,  being  at  first  especially  occupied  with  a  criticism  of 
sensationalism  and  the  demonstration  of  the  existence  of  pure 
reason,  naturally  did  not  devote  much  attention  to  theodicy 
proper.  Indeed  we  find  no  theological  theories  in  the  writings 
of  either  Royer-Collard  or  Jouffroy.  In  Cousin,  however,  we  see 
the  theory  of  pure  reason  pass  rapidly  from  a  psychological  to  a 
metaphysical  form,  carrying  away  its  author  more  or  less  un- 
consciously in  the  train  of  German  thought,  in  the  direction 
of  a  pantheistic  theism.  Hence  a  certain  number  of  formulae 
which  have  been  interpreted  in  a  pantheistic  sense :  "  A  God 
without  a  world  is  as  incomprehensible  as  a  world  without  a 
God."  "  Creation  is  not  only  possible,  but  necessary."  "  God 
is  at  once  God,  nature,  and  humanity." 

But  on  the  other  hand,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Kant 
and  of  Maine  de  Biran,  Victor  Cousin  always  adhered  to  and 
strenuously  upheld  the  principle  of  human  personality.  How  was 
this  principle  to  be  reconciled  with  that  of  universal  identity  ? 
This  consideration,  together  with  the  fear  of  the  consequences 
which  the  pantheistic  conception  seemed  to  involve,  induced 
Cousin  to  alter  his  philosophy  in  the  direction  of  the  Cartesian 
spiritualism  and  Leibnitzian  theodicy.  But  it  was  by  means 
of  corrections  and  modifications  of  the  text,  rather  than  by  a 
genuine  development,  that  this  new  phase  in  Cousin's  philo- 
sophy manifested  itself. 

The  task  which  Cousin  had  not  time  to  accomplish  himself, 
the  foundation,  that  is,  of  a  spiritualistic  theodicy  forming  an 
organized  system,  was  undertaken  by  his  disciple,  Emil*e 
Saisset,  in  a  work  entitled  Essai  de  philosophic  religieuse  (1858). 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       345 

The  principal  object  of  this  book  is  to  defend  theistic  against 
pantheistic  notions,  and  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  personality  as 
opposed  to  that  of  the  impersonal  God  of  the  German  philoso- 
phers. Emile  Saisset,  like  Descartes,  proves  1>he  existence  of 
God  by  our  conception  of  a  perfect  being.  The  imperfect 
cannot  exist  through  itself — imperfection  being  only  lack  of 
existence,  how  can  it  contain  within  itself  the  cause  of  exist- 
ence ?  This  cause  must  lie  in  the  Being  in  whom  nothing  is 
wanting ;  in  other  words,  in  the  perfect  Being. 

But  might  not  this  notion  of  a  perfect  Being  be  a  simple 
ideal  conceived  by  the  mind  ?  No !  for  where  could  a  finite 
mind  have  found  the  material  of  this  ideal  ?  The  perfect 
Being,  or  God,  is  therefore  the  immediate  object  of  an  intuition 
which  includes  at  once  two  correlative  terms:  the  finite  and 
the  infinite,  the  perfect  and  the  imperfect.  The  different  proofs 
of  the  existence  of  God  are  merely  analyses  of  this  primitive 
intuition. 

God  being  the  necessary  condition  of  our  existence,  the  next 
question  is  whether  such  a  Being  is  comprehensible  to  human 
reason.  The  answer  is,  that  He  both  is  and  is  not.  In  one 
sense  He  is  not  comprehensible,  for  to  understand  is  to  explain 
things  by  their  essence :  to  understand  God  would  be  to  explain 
God,  to  know  why  He  is,  and  that  is  impossible.  No  doubt  it 
is  repugnant  to  our  intelligence,  given  the  existence  of  the 
world,  to  deny  God  ;  but  it  is  not  repugnant  to  it  to  deny  the 
existence  of  both  God  and  the  world.  I  can  conceive,  says 
Saisset,  as  a  possibility,  that  there  may  be  nothing,  absolutely 
nothing,  no  being,  nor  even  an  illusion  of  being.  The  saying 
that  God  exists  through  Himself  should  be  understood  nega- 
tively in  the  sense  that  He  does  not  require  any  cause  for  His 
existence ;  but  not  in  the  sense  that  He  is  properly  speaking 
cause  of  Himself,  for  in  that  case  He  would  be  both  cause  and 
effect.  Furthermore,  to  say,  as  do  Descartes  and  Bossuet,  that 
His  perfection  is  His  ratio  essendi  is  to  assume  that  an  ideal 
essence  can  be  the  cause  of  a  real  existence.  Thus  Saisset  does 
not  accept  the  a  priori  or  Ontological  proof  of  the  existence  of 
God.  God  is  a  fact,  or  rather  the  necessary  reason  of  a  fact,  of 
our  own  existence,  namely ;  but  the  reason  of  this  reason  is 
above  our  comprehension. 

So  much  must  be  admitted  as  true  in  the  criticisms  of  Kant 


346  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

and  Hamilton.  But  this  does  not  mean  that  God  is  absolutely 
incomprehensible  and  entirely  beyond  our  reach,  for  there  is  a 
link  between  God  and  man,  seeing  that  God,  whatever  may  be  His 
unfathomable  essence,  nevertheless  manifests  Himself.  "  Since 
we  rise  up  to  Him  through  the  medium  of  the  world,"  it  must  be 
that  He  has  put  something  of  Himself  into  the  world.  There- 
fore, at  least  through  the  point  of  contact  in  which  He  has 
communicated  His  essence  to  creatures,  the  latter  are  able  to 
apprehend,  to  dimly  see  Him. 

Here  we  come  upon  a  fresh  problem :  we  have  asked  why 
there  is  a  God,  and  we  have  now  to  ask  why  there  is  a  world  ? 
Why  could  not  God  have  remained  in  contemplation  of  Him- 
self ?  There  are  two  hypotheses  both  equally  untenable  :  Is  the 
world  in  relation  to  God  a  limit  or  an  extension  ?  Not  a  limit, 
for  then  God  would  be  limiting  Himself.  Nor  is  it  an  extension, 
for  in  that  case  God  would  have  required  the  world,  and  would 
not  be  perfect  without  it.  These  two  hypotheses  being  set 
aside,  there  remains  a  third,  in  which  the  world  is  a  manifesta- 
tion, an  expression,  an  image  of  God  ;  it  neither  adds  nor  takes 
anything  away  from  the  Divine  Being,  but  is  a  reflection  of 
Him.  Time  is  the  image  of  eternity,  Place  is  the  image  of 
immensity,  the  Many  is  the  image  of  the  One.  What  is 
scattered  and  multiplied  in  the  world,  is  one  and  concentrated 
in  the  Divine.  But  why  not  say  with  the  Pantheists  that  the 
world  is  God's  mode  of  existence,  that  it  forms  part  of  His 
essence  ?  Saisset  confronts  pantheism  with  a  dilemma  to  which, 
as  far  as  we  know,  no  answer  has  yet  been  found.  If  the  world 
and  God  are  one,  there  are  only  two  alternatives  :  either  God  is 
absorbed  in  the  world,  and  then  we  have  no  longer  pantheism 
but  atheism ;  or  the  world  is  absorbed  in  God,  which  is  not 
pantheism  either,  but  mysticism,  or  the  theory  of  the  Nirvana. 
In  the  first  case  God  is  nothing,  for  He  is  nature  ;  in  the  second 
case  the  world,  nature,  life,  the  family,  the  fatherland,  freedom, 
science,  all  vanish  like  shadows  in  the  great  universal  void. 

Moreover,  how,  without  contradiction,  can  the  perfect  and 
the  imperfect,  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  be  bound  together  in 
the  same  essence  ?  It  was  considered  contradictory  that  a  God 
who  was  good  should  have  created  a  world  that  is  bad,  and  to 
make  the  thing  clearer,  the  essence  of  the  Divine  Being  himself 
is  attributed  to  this  bad  world. 


THE   RELIGIOUS   PEOBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       347 

What  is  then  the  link  which  unites  God  to  the  world  ?  It 
is  the  link  of  love  and  of  freedom.  Notwithstanding  the  pro- 
gress made  by  science  in  the  study  of  nature,  it  is  not  proved  that 
the  laws  of  nature  are  mathematically  necessary,  but  rather  that 
they  are  laws  of  agreement  and  harmony.  The  principle  of 
these  laws  is  therefore  a  principle  of  agreement  and  harmony,  of 
love  and  freedom;  in  short,  a  personality.  The  formula  in  which 
Saisset,  like  M.  Ravaisson  in  later  times,  sums  up  his  doctrine, 
and  which  may  be  given  as  the  common  symbol  of  all  the 
spiritualist  schools,  is  this  maxim  of  Maine  de  Biran  :  "  There 
are  two  poles  in  human  science :  the  person  I,  whence  all  things 
radiate,  and  the  person  God,  where  all  things  meet  and  end." 

But  is  personality  reconcilable  with  the  Absolute  and  the 
Infinite  ?  No,  if  by  the  Infinite  we  understand  the  indeter- 
minate. Yes,  if,  on  the  contrary,  we  mean  the  absolutely 
determined.  Saisset  was  particularly  anxious  to  refute  the 
axiom  of  the  Pantheists  :  omnis  determinatio  est  negatio. 
According  to  him,  determination  and  negation,  far  from  being 
identical,  are  as  different  as  being  and  non-being.  In  propor- 
tion as  a  being  has  more  or  less  determinations,  that  is  to  say, 
qualities  or  specific  characteristics,  the  higher  or  the  lower  is 
the  rank  it  occupies  in  the  scale  of  existences.  For  among 
beings,  which  is  the"  being  that  is  least  real,  least  a  being,  if  not 
the  one  that  is  most  indeterminate  ?  And  which  is  the  most  real, 
the  most  a  being,  the  most  perfect,  if  not  the  being  that  is  most 
determinate,  or  possesses  the  largest  content  ?  In  this  sense 
God  is  the  only  absolutely  determinate  being,  the  only 
complete  being. 

Though  so  strongly  opposed  to  pantheism,  Saisset  yet  retains 
some  of  its  elements.  Inspired  by  an  idea  of  Malebranche's, 
according  to  which  the  Infinite  Being  must  have  an  infinite 
reason  for  creating,  and  the  Infinite  must  in  some  manner 
show  Himself  in  His  work,  Saisset  accepts  with  Leibnitz  the 
eternity  and  the  infinity  of  the  world,  not,  however,  in  the  sense 
of  an  absolute  eternity  and  infinity,  which  belong  to  God  alone, 
but  in  the  sense  of  a  series  which  has  neither  beginning  nor 
end  in  time  and  space.  The  finite  can  express  the  infinite  only 
by  infinitely  multiplying  itself.  The  finite  as  finite  does  not 
stand  to  the  infinite  in  a  rational  relation,  and  has  no  intelli- 
gible proportions  to  it.  But  the  finite  multiplied  to  infinity  : 


3-48  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

spaces  beyond  spaces,  stars  beyond  stars,  worlds  beyond  worlds, 
that  is  a  true  expression  of  the  infinite  (5th  Meditation). 

Contemporary  Attempts  at  a  Philosophy  of  Eeligion. 

We  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  dwell  on  the  work  of 
contemporary  living  philosophers.  We  need  merely  remark 
that  M.  Jules  Simon  in  his  work,  Eeligion  naturelle  (1860), 
Caro  in  his  Id6e  de  Dieu  (1866),  Eavaisson  in  his  Rapport 
sur  la  philosophic  du  dix-neuvieme  siecle  (1868),  and  finally 
we  ourselves  in  our  Causes  jinales  (1876),  have  all,  though 
with  shades  of  difference,  upheld  the  fundamental  idea  of 
Spiritualistic  Theism,  the  idea,  that  is,  of  a  Perfect  Being, 
who  produces  the  world  by  an  act  of  love  and  of  freedom. 

In  a  different  school,  MM.  Vacherot  and  Eenan,  the  former  in 
his  Mttaphysique  et  la  science,  the  latter  in  his  various  Essais  de 
critique  (religious  or  ethical)  maintain  that  God  is  nothing  but  an 
ideal  in  the  human  mind,  an  ideal  which  is  gradually  being 
realized  by  the  world  in  its  indefinite  progress.  Hence  the 
formula,  which  Diderot  had  already  employed:  "Perhaps  one  day 
God  may  be."  We  must  add,  however,  that  in  his  last  work,  Le 
nouveau  Spiritualisme,  M.  Vacherot  appears  to  have  got  beyond 
this  theory,  and  while  upholding  the  principle  of  immanence,  to 
come  nearer  to  the  theistic  doctrine  ;  for  he  says  that  "  God  is  at 
once  the  creative  and  the  final  cause."  Lastly,  not  to  omit  any 
contemporary  doctrines,  we  must  mention  that  of  M.  Secretan  of 
Lauzanne,  who  chooses  the  doctrine  of  Descartes  for  his  starting 
point,  and  teaches  that  God  is  absolute  freedom  ;  and  that  of 
M.  Eenouvier,  who,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Kant,  repudiates 
all  metaphysical  investigation  of  this  matter,  and  re-establishes 
the  idea  of  religion  on  practical  grounds. 

Conclusion. 

i 

Such  is  the  history  of  modern  theodicy.  We  may  now  ask, 
what  is  the  future  of  this  science  ?  Speaking  generally,  the 
cause  of  theodicy  is  bound  up  in  that  of  metaphysics.  The 
science  of  God  is  part  of  the  science  of  Being.  If  we  are  not 
to  concern  ourselves  any  more  with  causes  and  ends,  we  have 
no  occasion  to  seek  for  the  ultimate  cause  or  the  ultimate  end 
of  things.  Eeligion  may  subsist  as  a  supernatural  fact ;  it  will 
no  longer  have  any  place  in  science. 


THE  KELIGIOUS   PROBLEM   IN   MODERN  TIMES       349 

But  such  a  complete  disappearance  of  metaphysics  is 
extremely  improbable.  Every  time  that  metaphysics  has  been 
attacked  and  apparently  demolished,  it  has  been  found  to  rise 
up  once  more  out  of  its  ashes.  Greek  scepticism  was  followed 
by  the  school  of  Alexandria,  the  scepticism  of  the  sixteenth 
century  by  the  vast  dogmatic  system  of  Descartes,  Voltaire's 
scepticism  and  the  criticism  of  Kant  by  the  great  German 
school  of  Idealism  of  this  century.  After  the  restrictions  of 
the  positivists,  we  have  seen  grow  out  of  that  same  school  the 
great  synthetic  system  of  Herbert  Spencer,  which  has  only  the 
outward  semblance  of  positivism,  and  at  bottom  differs  little 
from  the  ambitious  systems  of  Schelling  and  Spinoza.  Those 
who  declare  that  the  need  for  a  metaphysic  is  no  longer  felt 
speak  for  themselves,  and  do  not  perceive  that  there  are  still  a 
great  many  minds  which  are  less  resigned  than  ever  to 
ignorance  concerning  causes  and  ends. 

As  for  what  concerns  theodicy  proper,  we  may  say  that  the 
progress  accomplished  in  our  century  consists  in  that  the  problem 
of  the  nature  of  God  has  been  more  thoroughly  sifted  than  ever 
before,  while  the  antithesis  between  theism  and  pantheism  has 
been  for  the  first  time  clearly  defined.  The  simplification  of 
the  problem,  the  accurate  estimate  of  the  merits  and  defects  in 
both  the  personalist  and  impersonalist  theories,  has  been  the 
task  accomplished  in  our  century.  The  divers  individual  con- 
ceptions which  have  been  brought  forward,  the  theories  of  the 
Ideal,  of  Evolution,  of  Absolute  Freedom,  are  particular  phases 
of  the  great  problem.  A  science  cannot  be  said  to  have  made 
no  progress  when  it  has  succeeded  in  formulating  more 
consciously  than  hitherto  its  fundamental  problem. 

Is  it  permissible  to  say  that  these  two  supreme  forms  of  the 
religious  idea,  pantheism  and  theism,  may  ultimately  be 
reconciled  ?  We  would  not  venture  to  make  such  an  assertion  ; 
and  yet  it  seems  to  us  that  the  most  eminent  upholders  of 
either  doctrine  in  its  highest  form,  are  inclined  to  employ  a 
common  language.  Are  not  the  divine  omnipresence  which  is 
accepted  by  all  theists,  the  Cartesian  and  even  the  Scholastic 
doctrine  of  a  continuous  creation,  the  concursus  divinus  of  the 
theologians,  the  physical  premotion  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas 
and  Bossuet,  Malebranche's  vision  in  God — are  not,  I  say,  all 
these  theories  great  concessions  in  the  direction  of  a  certain 


350  THE  PROBLEMS  OF   PHILOSOPHY 

divine  immanence?  And  does  not  St.  Paul  say:  in  Deo  vivimus, 
movemur  et  sumus?  and  St.  John  iravra  OLTT'  avrov,  <$ta  avrov  /ecu 
e£  avrou  ?  What  more  could  be  desired  by  such  pantheists  as 
are  not  atheists  ?  And  the  pantheists  themselves,  do  they  in 
their  turn  identify  absolutely  and  without  reservation  the  two 
principles,  God  and  the  world  ?  Does  not  Spinoza  make  a 
distinction  between  a  natura  naturans  and  a  natura  naturata? 
Does  not  Schilling's  theory  of  a  fall  place  between  the  finite  and 
the  infinite  a  chasm  even  greater  than  that  made  by  the  theory  of 
creation  ?  Is  not  pantheism  brought  even  nearer  to  spiritualism 
when  Hegel  mentions  his  own  saying  that  God  is  spirit  as  the 
chief  progress  made  by  Philosophy,  and  as  the  feature  which 
distinguishes  him  from  Spinoza ;  and  does  not  Herbert  Spencer 
also  say  that  the  power  which  manifests  itself  outside  conscious- 
ness is  the  same  as  the  power  which  manifests  itself  in 
consciousness  ? 

It  is  then  not  impossible  to  conceive  that,  leaving  aside  the 
question  of  the  mode  of  manifestation,  that  is  to  say  the  origin 
of  the  world,  there  might  be  brought  about  between  the  two 
doctrines  a  harmony  which  would  consist  in  that,  on  the  one 
hand,  it  would  be  acknowledged  that  the  highest  conceivable 
form  of  the  supreme  principle  is  the  spiritual  form,  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  whole  of  nature  is  animated  and  penetrated 
by  this  principle,  and  that  without  it  and  beyond  it  nothing 
exists.  When  examined  closely  and  more  accurately  defined, 
these  doctrines  would  still  be  found  to  be  at  variance ;  but  the 
limits  of  the  field  of  discussion  would  be  marked  out  and 
drawn  closer,  which  is  the  only  progress  (and  it  is  a  real 
progress)  that  can  be  expected  in  Philosophy  as  well  as  in  the 
other  sciences  ;  for  not  one  of  them  has  ever  yet  said  the  last 
word  on  any  of  the  problems  with  which  it  is  concerned. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   PROBLEM   OF  A  FUTUKE  LIFE 

ON  the  subject  of  a  future  life,  the  beliefs  of  the  ancient 
Greeks  were  extremely  vague.  It  is  true  that  Homer  depicts 
a  kingdom  of  shades  wherein  dwell  the  souls  of  men  after 
death.  But  he  describes  this  kingdom  as  dark  and  gloomy : 
"  I  should  rather,"  says  Achilles,  "  till  the  ground  under  a 
master  than  rule  over  the  dead." 

Pindar's  conception  of  immortality  was  more  definite  and 
more  spiritual :  "  In  the  kingdom  below  the  earth  there  is  a 
judge  who  pronounces  an  irrevocable  sentence  on  the  guilty. 
For  the  just,  on  the  other  hand,  a  pleasant  life  is  brightened 
by  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  those  who  have  faithfully  kept 
their  vows  spend  a  peaceful  existence,  free  from  fear " 
(Jules  Girard,  Le  Sentiment  religieiLX  chez  les  Grecs,  p.  528). 

The  first  among  sages  or  philosophers  to  whom  this  doctrine 
is  ascribed  is  Pherecydes,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  the 
master  of  Pythagoras,  "  Pherecydes  Syrius  primus  dixit  animas 
hominum  esse  sempiternas"  (Cic.  Tusc.  I,  16);  and  the 
Pythagorean  school  followed  his  teaching  in  this.  In  the 
other  early  schools  of  Greece,  the  confusion  between  the 
individual  and  the  universal  soul,  between  mind  and  matter, 
was  too  great  for  the  question  to  arise  whether  the  soul  had 
not  a  separate  destiny.  In  Heraclitus,  however,  we  find  some 
vague  and  obscure  utterances  which  touch  on  this  problem : 
"  The  gods,"  he  said,  "  are  immortal  men ;  men  are  mortal 
gods ;  our  life  is  the  death  of  the  gods ;  our  death  is  their 
life"  (Frag.  60).  Elsewhere  he  says:  "Death  reserves  for  souls 
that  which  they  neither  hope  for  nor  believe  in"  (Frag,  69). 


352  THE   PEOBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

He  promises  to  those  who  die  a  glorious  death  that  they  will 
be  rewarded  (Frag.  120).  Thus  he  appears  to  have  held  that 
those  souls  which  have  deserved  it  return  as  spirits  to  a  purer 
life. 

It  is,  however,  beyond  doubt  that  the  Pythagoreans 
expressly  taught  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  and  in  particular 
that  of  the  transmigration  of  souls,  or  metempsychosis. 
The  soul  is  shrouded  in  the  body  for  its  faults  in  the  past, 
8ia  Tiva<?  Tiju-wpias  fj  ~*\rw)(ri  TCD  crw/xart  <rvve(evKTai  (Boeck,  Frag.). 
The  soul,  when  separated  from  the  body,  lives  an  incorporeal 
life  if  it  has  been  found  worthy,  otherwise  the  punishment 
of  Tartarus  awaits  it  (Philol.  apud  Claudien,  De  Statu 
animae,  II,  7). 

The  Pythagoreans  taught,  besides,  that  the  soul  is  destined 
to  make  divers  peregrinations  through  the  bodies  of  men  and 
animals.  This  they  call  TraXXfyej/eor/a  (Servius,  Eneid,  III,  68). 
They  place  the  dwelling  of  the  dead  under  the  earth. 
For  the  rest,  this  metempsychosis  appears  to  have  been, 
not  a  philosophical  doctrine,  but  one  of  the  traditions  of  the 
Orphic  mysteries  (see  J.  Girard,  Le  Sentiment  reliyieux  chez 
les  Grecs). 

Socrates. 

We  find  no  text  that  would  positively  authorize  us  to 
attribute  to  Socrates  a  philosophical  doctrine  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul.  There  is  not  a  word  on  the  subject 
in  Xenophon's  Memorabilia ;  still,  there  are  many  evidences 
which  seem  to  justify,  at  least  indirectly,  the  hypothesis  that 
Socrates  believed  in  a  future  life,  a  belief,  moreover,  which 
would  be  most  naturally  implied  in  his  ethical  and  religious 
doctrines.  There  is  the  speech  of  the  dying  Cyrus  in  the 
Cyropaedia  (VIII,  vii),  and  again  the  Phaedo.  Where  could 
Xenophon  have  learnt  the  doctrine  which  he  puts  in  the 
mouth  of  Cyrus  if  not  in  the  school  of  Socrates  ? 

"  For  ray  part,"  says  the  prince,  "  I  have  never  been  persuaded  that 
the  soul  lives  only  as  long  as  it  is  in  a  mortal  body,  and  dies  when  it  is 
separated  from  this  body ;  for  I  see  that  it  is  the  soul  which  keeps 
mortal  bodies  alive  as  long  as  it  remains  in  them."  .  .  .  "  Reflect,  too,"  he 
continues,  "  that  nothing  more  closely  resembles  the  death  of  man  than 
sleep ;  but  it  is  in  sleep  that  the  soul  of  man  appears  most  divine.  ...  If 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  A  FUTURE   LIFE  353 

therefore  these  things  are  as  I  think,  and  the  soul  leaves  the  body,  do 
what  I  request  of  you  from  regard  to  my  soul "  (Cyropaedia,  Bk.  VIII. 
ch.  vii). 

These  assertions  contain,  it  is  true,  an  element  of  doubt,  but 
it  was  always  so  with  ancient  writers.  It  is  the  same  in  the 
Phaedo,  where  the  future  life  is  described  as  a  glorious 
possibility.  And  yet  the  whole  dialogue  is  devoted  to  proofs 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Without  ascribing  these  subtle 
arguments  to  Socrates  himself,  may  we  not  suppose  that  Plato 
would  not  have  selected  Socrates  as  the  defender  of  immor- 
tality if  it  were  established  that  he  did  not  believe  in  it  ? 
And  does  it  not  seem  even  probable  that  this  last  day  of 
Socrates,  given  up  to  a  discussion  on  the  destiny  of  the  soul, 
was  an  historical  event,  and  that  Socrates  did  really  so  occupy 
his  last  moments  ? 

Plato :  the  Arguments  in  the  Phaedo  ;  The  Doctrines  of  Pre- 
Existence  and  of  Metempsychosis. 

If  it  may  be  assumed  that,  in  substance,  the  doctrine  set 
forth  in  the  Phaedo  belongs  to  Socrates,  it  is,  on  the  other 
hand,  most  probable  that  the  arguments  given  in  favour  of  this 
doctrine  are  not  his,  but  were  invented  by  Plato  himself.  For, 
with  Plato,  the  question  of  the  soul's  immortality  was  part  of 
his  philosophy,  and  is  treated  in  a  scientific  manner. 

The  following  are  the  principal  proofs  given  by  Plato :  1. 
Proof  from  the  Nature  of  Virtue.  The  soul  is  made  for  virtue. 
But  virtue  consists  in  the  endeavour  to  free  oneself  from  the 
passions  of  the  body,  and  is  a  preliminary  severance  of  soul 
from  body.  The  destiny  of  the  soul  is,  therefore,  to  live 
separate  from  the  body  (Phaedo,  60  et  seq.).  2.  Proof  from 
Knowledge :  Knowledge  is  the  pure  essence  of  thought  applied 
to  the  pure  essence  of  each  thing  in  itself.  Therefore  the 
nature  of  the  soul  is  purely  spiritual.  The  true  philosopher  is 
always  pursuing  death,  and  our  life  should  only  be  the  practice 
of  dying  (Phaedo,  67).  3.  Proof  from  the  generation  of  opposites  : 
Life  and  death  unceasingly  alternate  and  succeed  one  another. 
If  death  comes  after  life,  it  follows  that  life  comes  after  death ; 
an  argument  which,  as  has  been  observed,  is  only  valid  if  two 
things  are  assumed  :  that  the  number  of  souls  is  limited  and 
that  this  number  is  always  the  same,  for  otherwise  all  things 
n.  z 


354  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

would  end  by  dying  (Phaedo,  72 ;  Ludovic  Carrau,  Sur  les 
Preuves  de  V  immortality  de  I'dme  dans  le  Phddori).  4.  Proof 
from  Reminiscence :  To  learn  is  but  to  remember ;  hence  our 
present  life  implies  a  former  life,  and  may  therefore  survive  the 
present  one  (Phaedo,  70,  71).  5.  Proof  from  the  Nature  of  Truth: 
Truth  dwells  in  our  hearts,  but  truth  is  eternal ;  therefore  our 
soul  must  also  be  eternal  (Meno,  86  &).  Moreover,  the  soul  is 
more  in  harmony  with  what  is  divine  than  with  earthly 
things.  When  the  soul  in  herself  beholds  things  in  them- 
selves "  she  is  drawn  of  herself  to  what  is  pure,  and  eternal, 
and  immortal,  and  being  of  the  same  nature  cleaves  there- 
unto "  (Phaedo,  37).  Thus  the  soul  resembles  what  is  divine, 
simple,  and  indissoluble,  and  possesses  consequently  the  same 
qualities  (Ibid.  80  b).  6.  Proof  from  the  Activity  of  the  Soul : 
The  soul,  say  those  who  deny  her  immortality,  is  like  the 
harmony  of  the  lyre,  and  disappears  when  the  lyre  is  broken. 
No,  says  Socrates,  the  soul  is  not  a  harmony  or  a  result,  for 
the  lyre  precedes  the  harmony,  while  the  body,  on  the  contrary, 
comes  after  the  soul.  There  must  be  a  lyre  before  there  can 
be  a  harmony,  whereas  there  must  be  a  soul  before  there  can  be 
a  living  body  (Ibid.  86  a).  Again,  a  harmony  has  no  essence  of 
its  own,  whereas  the  soul  has  an  existence  apart  (Ibid.  93).  If 
the  soul  is  a  harmony,  what  is  virtue  ?  The  harmony  of  har- 
mony. And  what  is  vice  ?  A  harmony  without  harmony  :  two 
contradictory  formulae.  Finally,  a  harmony  is  only  the  result 
of  the  elements  of  which  it  is  the  harmony.  The  soul,  on  the 
contrary,  commands  the  body,  moves  it  by  her  will,  and  can  even 
destroy  it  when  she  wishes  (Ibid.  78).  7.  Proof  from  the  Essence 
of  the  Soul:  The  essence  of  the  soul  is  life.  Wherever  the  soul 
is,  there  also  is  life.  Are  not  all  things  what  they  are  through 
their  relation  to  their  Ideas  ?  The  Idea  of  the  soul  is  life  ; 
therefore  it  is  essentially  a  living  thing.  8.  Proof  from  Motion  : 
Plato  borrows  this  proof  from  the  Pythagoreans  (Alcmaeon  of 
Crotona).  The  soul  is  that  which  moves  itself.  It  can, 
therefore,  not  be  deprived  of  motion,  which  is  its  essence. 
This  argument  applies,  however,  to  the  soul  of  the  world  rather 
than  to  the  individual  soul.  9.  Proof  from  the  Existence  of 
Evil :  Evil  is  that  which  destroys ;  vice,  which  is  the  evil  of 
the  soul,  can  nevertheless  not  destroy  her :  therefore  the  soul 
is  indestructible  (Rep.  X,  608  d).  10.  Proof  from  the  Moral 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  355 

Sanction.  In  the  Gorgias,  the  Timaeus,  the  Phaedrus  and  the 
Republic,  usually  in  a  mythical  form,  and  sometimes  also  as  a 
philosophical  theory,  Plato  always  teaches  that  souls  which 
are  pure  are  destined  to  participate  in  the  Ideas,  and  to 
enjoy  with  Jupiter  an  immortal  life,  and  that  the  corrupt 
souls  descend  once  more  into  mortal  bodies,  either  of 
men  or  of  animals.  It  may  be  that  this  doctrine  of  metem- 
psychosis, which  was  borrowed  from  the  Pythagoreans, 
was  to  Plato  merely  a  myth ;  but  what  certainly  was  not  a 
myth  was  his  theory  of  a  moral  sanction,  of  the  final  harmony 
of  virtue  and  happiness,  of  the  punishment  of  sin  by  a  fall ; 
and  one  may  conjecture,  like  M.  Fouillee,  that,  according  to 
Plato,  evil  will  in  the  end  be  conquered  by  good. 

To  sum  up:  Plato  taught  not  only  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
but  its  eternity.  The  soul  existed  before  the  body  as  it  will 
survive  it,  and  it  would  seem  that  it  could  neither  have  a 
beginning  nor  an  end.  It  is  true  that  when  Plato  speaks  of 
eternity,  he  alludes  to  the  soul  of  the  world  rather  than  to  the 
soul  of  man.  But  the  human  soul  participates  in  the  nature  of 
the  world-soul  and  has  the  same  quality  of  perpetuity. 

Let  us  now  see  what  kind  of  immortality  Plato  attributes  to 
the  soul,  or  rather  to  what  kind  of  soul  he  attributes  immor- 
tality. For  there  are  two  kinds  of  soul,  a  mortal  and  an 
immortal  soul :  a'AAo  et$o9  ^w^ris  TO  OvyTov  (Timaeus,  69  c) ; 
ra  yuev  ovv  Trepi  ^w^ys  oarov  QvrjTOV  ej^ei  KOI  oarov  Oeiov. 
This  mortal  soul  is  the  source  of  violent  affections :  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  of  courage  and  fear,  and  it  has  its  seat  in 
the  breast.  The  immortal  soul  is  the  rational  soul,  TO 
SiavorjriKov,  which  dwells  in  the  head.  Thus  it  is  only  the 
highest  parts  of  man  that  continue  to  exist.  It  would  no 
doubt  be  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  Plato  has  in  view  merely 
an  impersonal  immortality  ;  for  what  then  could  become  of  his 
doctrine  of  the  moral  sanction  ?  But,  as  Zeller  observes,  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  Plato  did  not  take  much  pains  to  make 
the  different  parts  of  his  doctrine  harmonize  with  one  another. 

The  Future  Life  in  Aristotle :  the  "^"X^  anc^  ^he  Noy? ; 
Impersonal  Immortality. 

One  of  the  questions  in  the  history  of  Philosophy  that  has 
given  rise  to  most  discussion  is  Aristotle's  theory  of  the  immor- 


356  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

tality  of  the  soul.  In  the  16th  century,  there  even  arose  out 
of  the  subject  of  the  interpretation  of  the  Peripatetic  doctrine 
on  this  point,  two  opposite  schools  :  the  Alexandrians  and  the 
Averroists.  The  former  denied  altogether  that  Aristotle  taught 
a  doctrine  of  immortality,  while  the  latter  declared  that  he 
did.  We  shall  confine  ourselves  to  the  citation  of  certain 
passages  which  have  an  obvious  significance. 

We  know  that  in  Aristotle  the  soul  is  the  form  of  the  body. 
From  this  definition  alone,  it  would  seem  to  follow  clearly  that 
when  the  body  disappears  and  is  dissolved  the  form  of  the 
body  must  disappear  also  ;  but  the  question  is  not  as  simple 
as  this  :  for,  above  the  soul,  the  entelechy  of  the  body, 
Aristotle  places  another  kind  of  soul,  ^svxfjs  yevos  eTepov  (De 
Anima,  II,  2,  413  I,  26),  which  is  the  Now,  thought,  pure 
intelligence,  the  principle  by  which  we  think,  &  Siavoeirai  KOI 
vTro\a[ji.(3avei  (III,  4,  429  a,  32).  This  Nou?  is  a  true  sub- 
stance, ova-la  Tt?  (I,  4,  408  b,  19).  It  comes  to  us  from  without, 
through  the  door,  OvpaOev  (De  Gener.  Anim.  I,  3,  736  &,  28),  is 
pure  and  impassible,  cnraQ^  KOI  a/miyw  (III,  5,  430  a,  19), 
does  not  mix  with  the  body,  ov§e  yue/xt^Oat  TU>  crw/iart  (III,  4, 
429  a,  24),  and  is  the  part  of  the  soul  that  is  not  the  object  of 
physics  (De  Partibm  Anim.).  It  is  the  most  divine  part  of 
man  :  TOV  BeioTaTov  TO  voelv  KOI  (bpoveiv  (De  Part.  Anim. 
IV,  10)  ;  it  is  through  it  that  man  participates  in  divinity  : 
lj.6vov  fj.€T€^€i  TOV  Oelov  (II,  10,  656  a,  7). 

"  But  a  life  which  realized  this  life  would  be  something  more  than 
human  ;  for  it  would  not  be  the  expression  of  man's  nature,  but  of  some- 
thing divine  in  that  nature  —  the  exercise  of  which  is  as  far  superior  to 
the  exercise  of  the  other  kind  of  virtue  (i.e.  practical  or  moral  virtue)  as 
this  divine  element  is  superior  to  our  compound  human  nature.  .  .  . 
Nevertheless,  instead  of  listening  to  those  who  advise  us  as  men  and 
mortals  not  to  lift  our  thoughts  above  what  is  human  and  mortal,  we 
ought  rather,  as  far  as  possible,  to  put  off  our  mortality  and  make  every 
effort  to  live  in  the  exercise  of  the  highest  of  our  faculties  ;  for  though  it 
be  but  a  small  part  of  us,  yet  in  power  and  value  it  far  surpasses  all  the 
rest.  And,  indeed,  this  part  would  ever  seem  to  constitute  our  true  self 
(So£ae  8'  av  etvai  eKaoros  TOVTO),  since  it  is  the  sovereign  and  the  better 
part"  (Nic.  Ethics,  X,  7). 


Such  are  the  characteristics  of  the  Noy?,  or  at  least  of  the 
Noi/t  TToirjTiKW,  the  active  intellect,  which  Aristotle  opposes  to 


THE  PROBLEM   OF   A   FUTURE   LIFE  357 


the   Noy?  TraOtjTiKos  or  passive  intellect  (see  Vol.  I,  Ch.  IV, 
Problem  of  Reason). 

There  is,  therefore,  no  doubt  that  Aristotle  attributes  the 
quality  of  immortality  to  the  Nou?  TTOUITIKOS.  It  is  a  substance, 
he  says,  which  was  not  made  to  perish,  eoixev  eyyevea-Tai  ov<Tia 
r<?  ova-a  KOI  ov  (pOetpea-Oai  (De  Anim.  I,  4,  408  b,  19).  It  is  the 
only  element  of  our  being  that  can  exist  apart  :  TOVTO  /J.QVOV 
evSe-^erai  -^dopicrTov  elvai  (II,  2,  403  b,  26).  This  principle  alone 
stands  apart  and  is  divine,  not  indeed  in  so  far  as  it  is  subject 
to  time,  that  is  to  say,  in  so  far  as  it  now  thinks  and  now 
does  not  think,  but  when  it  is  separate,  then  it  is  itself 
immortal  and  eternal  :  ^(lOpKrOei^  §'  €<TTI  /novov  TOV  oirep  ecrrt, 
KOI  TOVTO  JJ.QVOV  ctOdvaTOv  KCU  ai'Siov  (III,  5,  430  a,  22).  Thus, 
it  is  not  the  whole  soul  that  is  separable,  but  only  mind  or 
reason  (/a;?  Traa-a  ^sw^t?,  aXXa  Noy?). 

In  contradiction  to  these  apparently  decisive  passages  in 
favour  of  the  theory  of  immortality,  Zeller  (III,  p.  462,  2nd  ed.) 
points  out,  in  the  first  place,  what  we  have  already  observed, 
namely,  that  the  soul,  being  defined  as  the  form  of  the  body 
must  disappear  with  the  body  ;  and  he  further  cites  certain 
passages  in  which  it  is  peremptorily  asserted  that  the  soul 
perishes  with  the  body,  and  with  the  soul  all  the  characteristics 
of  personality  and  individuality.  As  the  entelechy  of  the 
body  the  soul  cannot  be  without  a  body.  No  doubt  the  soul 
is  not  a  body,  but  it  is  something  of  the  body,  arw/ma  /JLCV  yap  OVK 
ea-Tt,  crto/xaro?  §e  TI  (II,  2,  414  a,  12).  The  soul  is  to  the  body 
what  vision  is  to  the  organ  of  vision  ;  and,  just  as  the  eye 
consists  of  vision  and  its  pupil  (Koptj),  so  an  animal  consists  of 
soul  and  body  (413  a,  12).  A  soul  must  necessarily  be  in  a 
body,  and  each  particular  kind  of  soul  in  a  particular  kind  of 
body,  /ecu  ev  TU>  cra>fjLa.Ti  TOLOVTU). 

Thus  it  is  not  possible,  as  the  Pythagoreans  imagined,  that 
any  soul  might  fall  into  any  body  (407  b,  22).  It  is  as 
impossible  for  the  sensitive  and  nutritive  soul  to  exist  without 
a  body  as  that  one  could  walk  without  feet  (De  Gener.  Anim. 
Ill,  376  a,  31).  Even  thought  itself  requires  images  :  6'rav 
Occupy  avayKrj  dfj.a  d)aj/Tacr/ixaTf  Oecapeiv  (De  Anim.  432  a,  3)  ; 
ov§€7roT€  voei  aveu  (pavTav  /xaro?  (431  a,  17;  De  Sensu,  I,  449  b,  31). 

There  is  therefore  no  doubt  as  to  the  impossibility  of  the 
soul's  surviving  the  body  ;  and  this  is  true,  not  only  of  the  lower 


358  THE  PEOBLEMS   OF   PHILOSOPHY 

faculties  such  as  sensation  and  nutrition,  but  also  of  the  vov? 
TraOtjTiKos,  for  that  also  is  perishable  and  can  think  nothing 
without  the  inferior  faculties  :  o  Tra6r]TiKos  vov$  (fiOapros,  KCU 
avev  Tovrtav  ovOev  voel  (De  Anim.  Ill,  5).  Now  it  is  in  these 
that  the  principle  of  individuality  lies.  Reason,  love,  hate  are 
not  operations  of  the  active  intellect  (Stavoeca-Oai,  KCU  cfiiXetv,  KOI 
fjucreiv  OVK  ecm  eiceivov  iraQrj),  but  of  the  composite  which 
receives  it,  in  so  far  as  it  does  receive  it  (aXXa  rovSe  TOV 
e^oi'To?  eKeivo  $  cKetvo  e^et).  It  is  for  this  reason  that  when 
the  composite  being  has  perished,  the  mind  ceases  to  love  and  to 
remember,  for  these  attributes  are  not  its  own,  but  those  of  the 
composite  being  which  has  perished  (De  Anim.  Ill,  5).  Lastly, 
individuality  has  its  origin  in  the  matter  and  not  in  the  form, 
eTepov  $e  Sia  TTJV  vXrjv,  for  all  beings  are  the  same  in  their 
essence,  essence  being  indivisible,  ravro  Se  rw  eiSet,  aro/jiov 
yap  TO  ei§o$. 

The  inference  from  this  double  series  of  seemingly  contra- 
dictory passages  may  seem  to  be  self-evident.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  Aristotle  accepted  a  kind  of  immortality,  but  it  was 
an  immortality  without  memory,  or  feeling,  or  the  faculty  of 
reasoning,  and,  consequently,  without  individuality.  What 
persists  is  the  pure  intelligence,  which  is  the  same  in  all  men. 
There  are  some  who  even  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  this  pure 
intelligence  is  not  even  a  part  of  man,  but  is  God  Himself, 
Who  manifests  Himself  to  man,  and  Who,  when  man  perishes, 
withdraws  Himself  and  returns  to  Himself ;  so  that  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  would  merely  be  the  eternity  of  God. 

But  these  are  extreme  interpretations,  which  take  us  far  be- 
yond the  sense  of  the  text.  For  the  Now  is  really  a  human 
faculty  and  a  part  of  the  soul,  or  rather  another  soul,  one 
which  no  doubt  participates  in  the  Divine  but  is  none  the 
less  a  part  of  our  human  nature.  For  Aristotle  urges 
man  to  give  himself  up  to  the  contemplative  life,  and  to 
make  himself  immortal  as  far  as  it  is  possible.  He  even 
says  that  this  Now  is  each  one  of  us  (e/rao-TO?  rovro). 
It  must  therefore  be  the  source  and  origin  of  personality,  so 
that  it  may  be  questioned  whether  .Aristotle  does  altogether 
deny  personal  immortality.  That  parts  of  the  soul  perish  with 
the  body  is  admitted  ill  every  doctrine  and  by  all  the  up- 
holders of  immortality  :  no  one  would  maintain  that  our  souls 


THE   PEOBLEM  OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  359 

continue  to  feel  heat  and  cold,  that  they  still  have  passions, 
hatred,  etc.  It  may  even  be  supposed  that  the  soul  loses 
discursive  reason,  TO  SiavoeiirOai,  inasmuch  as  it  is  con- 
nected with  imagination,  with  the  senses,  with  speech. 
But  it  does  not  follow  that  our  intelligence  loses  con- 
sciousness of  itself,  and  that  consequently  it  is  absolutely 
absorbed  in  God.  Aristotle  never  speaks  of  absorption  in  God  ; 
and  if  by  immortality  of  the  soul  he  had  understood  only  the 
eternity  of  the  Divine,  he  would  have  said  so.  We  have  seen 
that  on  Plato's  theory,  as  well  as  on  that  of  Aristotle,  there 
was  an  immortal  and  a  mortal  soul.  That  the  former  ascribes 
a  larger  part  to  personality  cannot  be  denied ;  but  in  every 
philosophy,  the  question  as  to  how  much  of  the  individual 
exists  after  that  great  change  which  we  call  death,  will  always 
be  a  difficulty. 

The  Epicureans:  Lucretius;  Arguments  against  the  Immor- 
tality of  the  Soul. 

Among  ancient  philosophers,  it  is  in  the  Epicurean  school 
that  we  find  the  most  complete  negation  of  immortality.  On 
this  subject,  Lucretius  advances  elaborate  arguments,  to  which 
modern  materialism  has  added  nothing  (De  Natura  rerum, 
III).  We  see,  he  says,  the  soul  come  to  life  with  the  body, 
grow  with  the  body,  die  with  it.  In  old  age,  judgment  falters, 
speech  and  thought  both  wander.  In  bodily  sickness,  the 
mind  does  not  follow  its  usual  course.  The  soul  itself  may 'be 
diseased  and  may  be  cured  by  medical  art.  How  can  this 
mind,  this  slave  of  the  body,  continue  to  exist  once  it  is 
separated  from  the  body  ?  Being  part  of  the  man,  the  mind 
must  be  in  him  as  are  his  organs,  which,  separated  from  the 
body,  are  a  prey  to  corruption  and  death.  Without  a  body  the 
soul  is  not  able  to  accomplish  any  single  one  of  the  functions 
of  life.  How  could  it  continue  to  feel  without  its  five 
senses  ?  If  the  body  is  cut  in  two,  the  soul  will  be  also 
divided,  and  a  thing  that  is  divisible  cannot  claim  to  be  eternal. 
Lucretius  attacks  the  theories  of  pre-existence  and  survival, 
two  conceptions  which  were  bound  together  in  Plato's  Philo- 
sophy. 

"  If  the  soul  is  incorruptible,  why  should  we  not  be  able  to  recall  the 
memory  of  our  previous  existences  ?  .  .  .  The  soul  must  then  continue  to 


360  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

live  apart  like  the  bird  in  its  cage.  ...  If  the  soul  went  from  one  body 
to  another,  as  in  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis,  the  habits  of  different 
animals  would  become  mixed.  .  .  .  How  does  the  soul  change  its  habits 
and  its  character  ?  Why  is  it  that  from  being  wise  it  has  become 
foolish  ?  Why  is  not  the  child  born  prudent  and  wise  ?  How  can  it  be 
thought  that  at  the  moment  of  sexual  union  there  are  millions  of 
immortal  souls  ready  to  enter  into  mortal  bodies  ?  It  is  madness.  What 
could  be  more  disparate  than  these  two  substances  whose  very  essences 
are  contradictory,  and  which  are  the  slaves  one  of  the  other  ?" 

Lucretius  concludes  this  polemic  by  declaring  that  death 
need  not  affect  us  in  any  way,  because  we  have  found  that  the 
soul  is  by  nature  mortal.  We  wonder  at  this  conclusion, 
for  it  is  just  this  mortality  that  men  dread ;  but  Lucretius 
desires  us  to  understand  that  we  have  nothing  to  fear  from 
another  life,  and  that  we  must  throw  off  these  superstitious 
terrors  (see  Martha,  Le  poeme  de  Lucrece). 

The  Stoics. 

The  theories  of  the  Stoics  regarding  immortality  were  vague 
and  uncertain.  The  materialism  of  their  physics  did  not  favour 
this  belief,  and  yet  they  were  not  altogether  opposed  to  it. 
With  the  later  Stoics,  according  as  the  religious  character  of 
their  school  became  more  accentuated,  we  see  their  teaching 
incline  more  and  more  in  this  direction. 

"  The  soul,"  said  Zeno,  "  is  a  body  and  continues  to  exist 
after  death."  0-<w/ia  eti/ai  KO.I  juera  TOV  QO.VO.TOV  e7ri/j.eveiv 
(Diog.  Laert.  Zeno,  84).  "  Nevertheless  the  soul  is  by  nature 
perishable  (-^Oap-njv) ;  the  universal  soul,  of  which  individual 
souls  are  only  parts,  is  alone  imperishable."  Cicero  says  that 
the  Stoics  accepted  the  persistence,  but  not  the  permanent 
existence  of  the  soul.  They  allow  that  the  soul  exists  a  long 
time  like  the  raven,  but  are  against  its  eternity  (Cic.  Tusc.  I, 
31,  32). 

In  general  they  held  that  souls  survive  until  the  end  of  the 
world,  that  is  to  say  until  the  universal  conflagration.  There 
was,  however,  some  dissension  in  the  school.  Cleanthes  said 
that  all  men  persist,  while  Chrysippus  held  that  only  the  souls 
of  the  wise  endure  (D.L.  Zeno,  84).  The  only  Stoic  who  is 
cited  as  having  firmly  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
is  Panaetius,  and  Cicero  tells  us  he  denied  it  for  two  reasons : 
the  first  being,  that  the  resemblance  between  parents  and 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  361 

children  proves  that  the  soul  is  engendered ;  and  the  second, 
that  everything  that  suffers,  everything  that  is  liable  to  illness, 
is  mortal,  and  that  souls  are  liable  to  suffer  and  to  be  sick 
(Tusculans,  I,  LXXII). 

In  the  writings  of  the  Eoman  Stoics,  and  especially  in 
Seneca,  the  doctrine  of  immortality  assumes  a  religious 
character  and  a  tone  which  resembles  that  of  Christianity. 
But  it  was  not,  however,  untouched  by  doubt.  In  one  of  his 
letters  to  Lucilius  (102)  Seneca  appears  to  regard  this  belief  as 
a  pleasing  dream,  out  of  which  he  would  be  sorry  to  be 
awakened.  Ddbam  mei  spei  tantae  .  .  .  quum  subito  experrectus 
sum  et  tarn  bellum  somnium  perditi. 

But  in  spite  of  this  alternate  wavering  between  the  for  and 
the  against,  there  are  in  Seneca's  writings  utterances  which 
are  exactly  like  those  of  Christian  authors. 

"  Consider  without  fear  that  decisive  hour  which  will  be  the  last  for  the 
body  but  not  for  the  soul.  .  .  .  That  day  which  you  regard  as  the  last  of 
your  days  is  the  day  of  your  birth  for  eteruity  (aeterni  natalis  est).  When 
that  day  will  come  which  is  to  separate  this  mixture  of  divinity  and 
humanity,  I  shall  leave  this  body  where  I  found  it  and  return  unto  the 
gods  "(102). 

In  his  Consolatio  ad  Marciam  he  writes  to  a  mother  who  has  lost  her 
son  :  "  It  is  merely  the  outward  semblance  of  your  son  that  has  perished — 
his  likeness,  and  that  not  a  very  good  one.  He  himself  is  immortal  and 
is  now  in  a  far  better  state,  set  free  from  the  burden  of  all  that  was  not 
his  own  and  left  simply  by  himself."  "  Death,"  he  says  elsewhere  (ch.  36), 
"  interrupts  our  life  but  does  not  destroy  it.  A  day  will  come  which  will 
bring  us  once  more  out  into  the  light.  That  which  seems  to  perish 
merely  changes.  Bear  then  thy  going  away  with  resignation,  since  it  is 
to  be  followed  by  a  return." 

Epictetus  is  more  uncertain.  At  times  he  speaks  like 
Seneca.  "  And  are  we  not  in  a  manner  kinsmen  of  God,  and 
did  we  not  come  from  Him  ?  Permit  us  to  depart  to  the  place 
from  which  we  came :  permit  us  to  be  released  at  last  from 
these  fetters  by  which  we  are  bound  and  weighed  down."  But 
elsewhere  he  says,  "  Go  whither  ?  To  nothing  terrible,  but  to 
the  place  from  which  you  came,  to  your  friends  and  kinsmen, 
to  the  elements ;  what  there  was  in  you  of  fire  goes  to  fire ;  of 
earth,  to  earth  ;  of  air  (spirit),  to  air ;  of  water,  to  water."  He 
makes  no  exception  in  favour  of  the  soul.  And  again,  "  Shall  I 
then  no  longer  exist  ?  You  will  not  exist,  but  you  will  be 


362  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

something  else  of  which  the  world  now  has  need ;  for  you  also 
came  into  existence  not  when  you  chose,  but  when  the  world 
had  need  of  you." 

We  find  a  similar  uncertainty  and  vagueness  of  language  in 
Marcus  Aurelius. 

"  You  embark,  you  make  life's  voyage,  you  come  to  port :  step  out.  If 
for  another  life,  there  are  gods  everywhere,  there  as  here.  If  out  of  all 
sensation,  then  pains  and  pleasures  will  solicit  you  no  more"  (III,  3). 
"  Just  as  on  earth,  after  a  certain  term  of  survival,  change  and  dissolution 
of  substance  make  room  for  other  dead  bodies,  so  too  the  souls  trans- 
mitted into  air,  after  a  period  of  survival,  change  by  processes  of  diffusion 
and  of  ignition,  and  are  resumed  into  the  seminal  principle  of  the 
universe"  (II,  21).  "I  consist  of  two  elements,  the  causal  and  the 
material ;  neither  of  which  can  perish  or  cease  to  exist  any  more  than 
they  came  into  being  from  previous  non-existence.  It  follows,  then,  that 
every  part  of  me  will  be  co-ordinated  by  change  into  some  other  part  of 
the  world-order,  and  that  again  into  some  new  part,  and  so  on  ad 
infinitum"  (V,  13). 

Lastly,  as  has  been  remarked  (Courdaveaux,  De  Immortalitate 
apud  Stoicos,  p.  30),  Marcus  Aurelius  uses  against  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  an  argument  which  is  generally  used  in  support 
of  it. 

"  How  is  it  that  the  gods,  who  ordered  all  things  well  and  lovingly, 
overlooked  this  one  thing :  that  some  men,  elect  in  virtue,  having  kept 
close  covenant  with  the  divine  and  enjoyed  intimate  communion  there- 
with by  holy  acts  and  sacred  ministries,  should  not,  when  once  dead, 
renew  their  being,  but  be  utterly  extinguished  ?  If  it  indeed  be  so,  be 
sure,  had  it  been  better  otherwise,  the  gods  would  have  had  it  so.  Were 
it  right,  it  would  be  likewise  possible  ;  were  it  according  to  nature,  nature 
would  have  brought  it  to  pass.  From  its  not  being  so,  if  as  a  fact  it  is 
not  so,  be  assured  it  ought  so  to  be.  Do  you  not  see  that  in  hazarding 
such  questions  you  arraign  the  Justice  of  God  ? "  (XII,  4). 

The  moral  theories  of  the  Stoics  would  indeed  have 
impelled  them  rather  to  deny  the  ethical  proof  of  immor- 
tality. For  if  it  be  affirmed  that  virtue  is  the  only  good  and 
vice  the  only  evil,  it  follows  that  virtue  is  identical  with 
happiness,  that  the  wise  man  is  necessarily  happy,  and  that  he 
requires  no  other  reward  besides  virtue  itself,  and  that  evil 
requires  no  other  punishment  besides  itself.  As  Kant  said, 
the  relation  between  happiness  and  virtue  is  in  this  doctrine 
an  analytic  judgment ;  in  other  words,  one  is  contained  in  the 


THE   PEOBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  363 

other.  It  were  therefore  useless  to  add  one  to  the  other  by  a 
supernatural  act  in  a  life  to  come.  Thus  it  was  from  their 
principle  of  the  absolute  disinterestedness  of  virtue  that  the 
Stoics  deduced  the  superfluity  of  a  future  life.  The  immor- 
tality occasionally  referred  to  in  their  writings  is  a  physical, 
not  a  spiritual  immortality. 

The  Alexandrians. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  in  the  system  of  the 
Alexandrians  the  greatest  prominence  is  given  to  the  doctrine 
of  immortality.  Plotinus  (JZnneads,  IV,  c.  vii,  Trepl  'A.0ava<rias 
\|/-in£»79)  adopts  all  Plato's  arguments  and  also  fully  accepts  the 
doctrine  of  metempsychosis.  Each  soul  goes  where  it  has 
deserved  to  go  in  life.  Those  which  have  not  been  able  to 
free  themselves  from  the  body  return  to  human  bodies,  and 
some  which  have  become  animal  fall  once  more  into  the  bodies 
of  animals.  Some  of  the  best  are  allowed  to  choose  themselves 
their  new  bodies,  others  again  rise  above  the  heavens  and  are 
changed  into  stars,  and  look  down  on  the  world  from  above 
(III,  iv,  2,  5).  The  purest  souls,  lastly,  are  merged  into  God 
(III,  iv,  6).  Punishment  takes  the  form  of  a  kind  of  retalia- 
tion. Unjust  masters  are  born  again  as  slaves ;  the  rich  who 
have  been  wicked  live  again  as  poor  men ;  he  who  has  killed 
another  becomes  a  man  destined  to  be  slain ;  a  son  who  has 
killed  his  mother  becomes  a  mother  who  is  killed  by  her 
son  (III,  ii,  13). 

But  how  is  it  that  the  soul  which  is  free  from  all  stain  can 
fall  into  sin  ?  Plotinus  replies  that  it  is  not  the  soul  that  sins, 
but  the  man  who  is  made  up  of  soul  and  body,  and  consequently 
it  is  the  compound  that  is  the  sinner,  and  it  alone  is  punished: 
Trda"%ei  Stj  Kara  TO  o\ov,  Koii  a/maprdvei  TO  cruvOeTov  KOI  TOUTO 

€<TTl   TO    SlSoVV    §lKr]V,   OVK   €KflVO   (I,   i,    12). 

Christianity. 

With  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  the  doctrine  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  received  a  new  and  marvellous 
impulse.  What  in  the  ancient  religion  had  been  merely  a 
confused  superstition,  and  with  ancient  Philosophers  a  vague 
hope  or  a  doubtful  opinion,  became  in  Christianity  a  fixed, 
complete,  and  organized  dogma,  an  ardent  conviction  which 


364  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

made  many  martyrs.  The  great,  in  fact  the  only,  concern  of 
the  Christians  was  the  salvation  of  the  soul.  It  was  no  longer 
a  question  of  immortality,  but  of  eternity.  The  doctrine  became 
essentially  a  moral  one,  which  no  longer  rested  on  abstract  and 
metaphysical  principles,  but  on  the  principle  of  merit  and 
demerit.  The  punishment  is  as  terrible  as  the  reward  is  magni- 
ficent :  heaven  or  hell,  eternal  reward  or  eternal  suffering — 
such  are  the  alternatives  to  be  faced  by  Christian  souls.  Every- 
thing is  to  be  transfigured:  the  flesh  itself  is  to  share  in  this 
spiritual  apotheosis,  and  in  the  final  consummation  of  things 
each  soul  is  to  reassume  its  body  risen  again  and  renewed. 

The  Catholic  Church,  knowing  well  the  human  heart,  and 
always  ready  to  soften  a  dogma  in  order  to  render  it  more 
accessible  to  reason  and  to  sentiment,  teaches  that  there  is  an 
intermediate  state  between  heaven  and  hell  for  those  who 
are  neither  quite  good  nor  quite  wicked.  This  is  Purgatory, 
which  Protestantism,  more  rigid  and  uncompromising,  rejected 
as  a  weakening  of  the  Divine  Justice.  On  another  very 
important  point  the  two  Churches  were  in  disagreement : 
Catholics,  while  admitting  the  action  of  grace,  affirmed  the 
merit  of  good  works.  In  the  Protestant  and  especially  in  the 
Calvinist  teaching,  a  kind  of  predestination  made  good  works 
subordinate  to  faith  and  left  the  choice  of  the  elect  and  of  the 
damned  entirely  to  God's  free  Will.  But  we  are  not  concerned 
with  the  history  of  theological  dogmas ;  this  brief  summary  of 
the  principal  points  suffices  to  make  the  subject  clear. 

Descartes. 

Descartes  does  not  expressly  give  any  theory  on  this 
subject.  In  one  of  his  letters  he  says,  as  has  been  supposed, 
ironically,  "  As  for  the  future  state  of  our  souls  I  must  refer 
you  to  M.  Digby."  Nevertheless,  in  the  very  title  of  his 
Meditations  he  implied  that  he  intended  to  treat  of  this 
subject,  for  he  calls  it  "  Meditations  on  God  and  on  the  Immor- 
tality of  our  Souls."  This  might  appear  to  be  merely  a 
misprint  for  immateriality.  But  it  is  more  likely  that 
Descartes  thought  that  while  he  gave  the  most  logical  proof 
yet  discovered  of  the  spirituality  of  the  soul,  he  at  the 
same  time  proved  its  immortality.  It  would  even  seem  that, 
in  the  eyes  of  certain  theologians,  he  proved  too  much ;  for 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  365 

one  of  the  objections  Arnauld  made  against  him  was  that  he 
inclined  to  the  error  of  the  Platonists,  who  represented  the 
soul  as  a  pure  spirit. 

One  of  Descartes'  disciples,  Regius  (Leroy),  having  fastened 
upon  the  proposition,  that  man  is  not  a  single  being,  in  other 
words,  that  each  of  the  two  substances  is  complete  in  itself, 
and  that,  consequently,  their  union  is  accidental  and  not 
essential,  Descartes  reproves  him  with  some  warmth  for  his 
imprudence ;  although  such  a  theory  would  appear  to  be 
much  more  favourable  to  the  dogma  of  immortality  than  the 
Peripatetic  doctrine  of  the  soul  as  the  entelechy  of  the  body. 

Descartes  also  endeavoured  to  dispose  of  one  of  the  gravest 
objections  that  had  been  brought  forward  against  the  immor- 
tality of  the  human  soul,  the  objection,  that  is,  that  animals 
have  souls,  and  that  if  souls  are  spiritual  theirs  also  must  be 
immortal.  Descartes  got  rid  of  this  difficulty  by  absolutely 
denying  that  animals  have  souls,  and  by  asserting  that  all 
their  actions  are  automatic.  Thus  we  see  that  Descartes, 
without  holding,  properly  speaking,  any  particular  theory  of 
a  future  life,  yet  did  as  much,  and  indeed  more  than  any  other 
modern  philosopher,  towards  providing  this  belief  with  a 
philosophical  and  metaphysical  basis. 

Leibnitz  :  Doctrine  of  Metamorphosis. 

The  establishment  of  a  theory  of  immortality,  which  Des- 
cartes had  omitted  in  his  system,  was  attempted  in  turn  by 
two  great  philosophers  of  the  17th  century :  Leibnitz  and 
Spinoza.  The  former  was  mainly  concerned  with  the 
principle  of  individuality,  the  latter  with  the  unity  of  sub- 
stance. One  constructed  the  most  ingenious  hypothesis 
bearing  on  individual  immortality,  while  the  other  was  the 
originator  of  the  most  powerful  conception  of  impersonal 
immortality. 

According  to  Leibnitz  "  each  living  body  has  a  dominant 
entelechy  (the  monad),  which  in  the  animal  is  the  soul ;  but 
the  members  of  this  living  body  are  full  of  other  living  beings, 
plants  or  animals,  each  of  which  has  also  its  dominant  entelechy 
or  soul "  (Monadology,  §  70). 

Thus,  according  to  Leibnitz,  each  animal  is  made  up  of 
animals,  and  the  soul  is  the  chief  monad,  of  which  the  body  is 


366  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

the  envelope.  The  body  is  as  necessary  to  the  soul  as  the  soul 
is  to  the  body.  Not  that  the  soul  needs  to  be  always  accom- 
panied by  the  same  matter  (71).  But  the  soul  only  changes 
its  body  by  continuous  degrees.  There  are  no  entirely  separated 
souls,  and  even  death  does  not  interrupt  this  union  and  this 
process  of  change.  This  is  the  doctrine  not  of  metempsychosis 
but  of  metamorphosis  (72).  "  Something  like  this  is  indeed 
seen  apart  from  birth,  as  when  grubs  become  flies  and 
caterpillars  become  butterflies  "  (74).  "  It  also  follows  from 
this  that  there  never  is  absolute  birth  nor  complete  death  in 
the  strict  sense,  consisting  in  the  separation  of  the  soul  from 
the  body.  What  we  call  births  are  developments  and 
growths,  while  what  we  call  death  is  an  involution  and  a 
lessening  "  (73). 

Thus  Leibnitz  does  not  accept  the  theory  of  spontaneous 
generation.  He  thinks  that  insects  and  animals  are  not  born 
of  putrid  matter,  but  that  every  animal  came  out  of  certain 
germs  or  seeds,  in  which  there  was  already  a  certain  organiza- 
tion (74).  But  for  the  same  reason  that  there  is  no  absolute 
generation,  there  is  also  strictly  speaking  no  such  thing  as 
destruction  or  death  (76).  He  points  out  the  advantages  of 
this  doctrine  thus  :  "  For  the  difference  between  one  state  of  the 
soul  and  another  (between  life  and  death)  never  is  and  never  has 
been  anything  but  a  difference  between  the  more  and  the  less 
conscious  or  sensible,  the  more  and  the  less  perfect,  or  vice 
versa ;  and  thus  the  past  or  the  future  state  of  the  soul  is  as 
explicable  as  its  present  state.  The  slightest  reflexion  makes 
it  sufficiently  evident  that  this  is  in  accordance  with  reason, 
and  that  a  leap  from  one  state  to  another  infinitely  different 
state  could  not  be  natural "  (New  Essays,  Introd.). 

This  theory,  it  will  be  noticed,  involves,  like  that  of  Plato, 
the  pre-existence  of  souls  as  well  as  their  survival.  The  sensi- 
tive soul  has  existed  since  the  beginning  of  things  (Theodicy, 
397),  but  it  rose  to  the  higher  stage  of  reason  when  the  man  to 
whom  this  soul  was  to  belong  was  conceived,  and  when  an 
organized  body  was  so  determined  as  to  form  the  human 
body  (Ibid.).  He  does  not  deny  the  marvellous  work  of  God : 
"  still,"  says  he,  "  I  should  prefer  not  to  regard  the  generation 
of  man  as  a  miracle.  For  it  may  be  explained  by  conceiving 
that  in  this  great  number  of  souls  of  animals,  only  those 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  367 

souls  which  are  destined  to  attain  some  day  to  the  human 
form  contain  the  reason  which  will  some  day  appear  therein." 
From  this  pre-existence  of  souls  it  is  easy  to  infer  their  sur- 
vival. 

As  for  the  manner  of  the  survival,  Leibnitz  does  not  explain 
how  it  will  take  place,  unless  it  be  in  other  planets  or  in  a 
world  entirely  different  from  our  own.  The  human  soul  is  a 
monad,  which  is  not  only  like  all  the  other  monads,  "  a  mirror 
of  the  universe,  of  created  beings,  but  also  an  image  of  the 
Deity  "  (Principles  of  Nature  and  of  Grace,  §  14).  "  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  all  spirits  .  .  .  enter  into  a  kind  of 
fellowship  with  God,  are  members  of  the  City  of  God,  that  is 
to  say  of  the  most  perfect  state,  instituted  and  governed  by 
the  greatest  and  best  of  monarchs  "  (Ibid.  §  15). 

"  It  is  true  that  our  happiness  (by  whatever  beatific  vision  or  know- 
ledge of  God  it  may  be  accompanied)  can  never  be  complete,  because  God, 
being  infinite,  cannot  be  entirely  known.  Thus  our  happiness  will  never 
consist  (and  it  is  right  that  it  should  not  consist)  in  complete  enjoyment, 
which  would  leave  nothing  more  to  be  desired,  and  would  make  our  mind 
stupid  ;  but  it  must  consist  in  a  perpetual  progress  to  new  pleasures  and 
new  perfections"  (Ibid.  §  18). 

We  see  that  Leibnitz  introduces  into  the  question  of 
immortality  an  entirely  new  element,  namely,  the  principle 
of  progress.  He  applies  to  the  other  world,  which  in  his 
opinion  does  not  differ  essentially  from  the  present  world,  his 
well-known  formula :  "  The  present  is  big  with  the  future,  and 
the  future  may  be  read  in  the  past."  Leibnitz  believed  that 
infinity  is  everywhere  in  the  universe,  and  consequently  in 
each  Monad ;  but  the  Monad  being  finite  requires  an  infinite 
time  for  its  development. 

Spinoza ;  Adequate  Ideas ;  The  Idea  and  the  Love  of  God ; 
Impersonal  Immortality. 

According  to  Spinoza,  "  the  soul  is  the  idea  of  the  human 
body  "  (II,  xiii),  and  has  duration  that  can  be  determined  in  time 
only  in  so  far  as  it  expresses  the  actual  existence  of  the  body. 
We  can  therefore  ascribe  duration  to  the  soul  only  so  long  as 
the  body  exists  (II,  viii).  Moreover,  "the  soul  can  imagine 
nothing  nor  can  it  recollect  anything  that  is  past,  except  while 
the  body  continues  to  exist "  (V,  xxi). 


368  THE   PROBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

From  these  two  propositions,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that 
the  soul  ceases  to  exist  at  the  same  time  as  the  body.  But  if  we 
look  at  things  from  another  point  of  view,  this  conclusion  must 
be  modified.  If  the  soul  is  the  idea  of  the  body,  and  in  that 
sense  joined  to  the  body,  there  exists,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
God  an  idea  which  expresses  the  essence  of  this  or  that  human 
body  under  the  form  of  eternity  (V,  xxii).  Now  this  idea 
relates  to  the  essence  of  the  soul  (II,  xiii).  This  some- 
thing, which  pertains  to  the  essence  of  the  soul  and  is 
conceived  by  God  under  the  form  of  eternity,  is  therefore 
necessarily  eternal  (V,  xxiii).  We  feel,  we  know  by  experience 
that  we  are  eternal,  sentimus  experimurgue  nos  aeternos  esse 
(Ibid.  note). 

It  will  be  noticed  that  Spinoza  speaks  not  of  immortality, 
but  of  eternity.  We  are  eternal  not  only  after  death,  but  in 
life.  There  is  a  part  of  the  soul  that  is  eternal,  the  part  that 
consists  in  reason,  in  demonstrative  cognition.  This  doctrine 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of  Aristotle  ;  like  -Aristotle, 
Spinoza  allows  memory,  and  all  that  belongs  to  our  sensible 
nature  and  to  our  affections  and  passions  to  disappear.  But  he 
maintains  the  persistence  of  reason,  not  only  inasmuch  as  it 
has  an  adequate  knowledge  of  God,  but  also  inasmuch  as  it  has 
an  adequate  knowledge  of  the  essence  of  this  or  that  body ; 
and  as  the  idea  of  the  body,  that  is  to  say  the  soul,  is  always 
accompanied  by  the  idea  of  that  idea,  or  consciousness,  we  may 
infer  that  Spinoza  holds  the  persistence  of  consciousness  in  the 
pure  intellect,  and  that  not  only  in  the  case  of  the  universal 
and  impersonal  ideas,  but  as  regards  the  idea  of  this  or  that 
human  body  in  its  relation  to  the  essence  of  God.  This  kind 
of  immortality  is,  one  might  think,  not  very  desirable,  since 
it  appears  to  be  altogether  speculative ;  but  when  we  consider 
that  for  Spinoza  reason  was  inseparable  from  love  (V,  xxxii), 
that  the  intellectual  love  of  God  is  eternal  (V,  xxxiii),  and  that 
the  more  the  mind  conceives  the  less  it  fears  death ;  "  that  the 
mind  is  the  more  perfect,  and  has  a  greater  part  in  eternity  in 
proportion  as  the  body  is  more  perfect  and  has  more  functions, 
that  is  to  say,  is  the  more  fitted  for  many  things,  and  the  more 
consciousness  the  mind  thereby  has  of  itself,  of  God,  and  of 
objects  "  ;  if  we  bear  in  mind  all  these  developments  of  his 
doctrine,  Spinoza's  theory  of  immortality  will  be  seen  to  be  not 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  369 

so  very  far  removed  from  the  idea  of  the  beatific  vision,  and, 
except  for  the  question  of  memory  (which  has  been  a  difficulty 
in  every  doctrine),  to  be  not  wanting  in  grandeur.  His  theory 
is  dominated  by  the  idea  of  impersonality,  as  that  of  Leibnitz 
is  dominated  by  the  idea  of  individuality.  And  these  are 
the  two  aspects  of  the  problem  of  immortality  (see  the  thesis 
of  M.  Alexis  Bertrand,  De  Immortalitate  pantheistica). 

Philosophy  of  the  18th  Century.  Charles  Bonnet:  Doctrine 
of  Palingenesia.  J.  J.  Rousseau.  Kant :  The  Postulates  of 
Practical  Reason. 

If  we  except  the  materialists,  who  merely  revived  the 
arguments  of  Lucretius,  it  may  be  said  that  the  18th 
century  only  produced  (that  is,  before  Kant  who  has  a 
place  apart)  two  philosophers  whose  theories  concerning  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  are  of  any  importance :  these  were 
Charles  Bonnet  of  Geneva,  and  J.  J.  Eousseau.  The  former,  a 
disciple  of  Leibnitz,  developed  and  added  force  to  the  theory  of 
metamorphosis,  which  he  calls  Palingenesia,  by  making  it  rest 
on  Natural  History  ;  the  latter  defended  spiritualism  and 
deism  in  an  atheistical  society,  and  expanded  with  greater 
eloquence  and  ardour  the  moral  argument  in  favour  of 
immortality — the  argument,  that  is,  which  is  based  on  the 
justice  of  God.  But  as  we  may  here  deal  only  with  such 
doctrines  as  were  really  original,  we  pass  on  at  once  to  the 
Philosophy  of  Kant. 

We  have  seen  that,  according  to  Kant,  we  can  learn  from 
reason  nothing  that  is  trustworthy  regarding  the  nature  of  the 
soul  and  the  existence  of  God.  Consequently  the  two 
arguments  usually  given  in  favour  of  the  permanence  of  the 
soul,  one  of  which  is  based  on  its  immateriality  and  the  other 
on  the  nature  of  God,  are  both  without  force.  From  the 
metaphysical  point  of  view,  therefore,  the  idea  of  immortality 
is  but  an  illusion.  Let  us  see  whether  we  shall  not  succeed 
better  from  the  moral  point  of  view. 

Kant  establishes  that  virtue  is  the  supreme  good,  but 
"  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  the  whole  and  perfect  good 
...  for  this  requires  happiness  also  "  (Critique  of  Practical 
Reason,  II,  ii).  He  shows  that  the  judgment  in  which 
happiness  is  joined  to  the  good  is  not  an  analytic  but 

II.  2A 


370  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

a  synthetic  judgment ;  in  other  words,  that  the  two  terms, 
virtue  and  happiness,  are  not  identical,  but  two  heterogeneous 
notions  which  are  necessarily  joined  in  an  a  priori  judgment,  or 
added  to  one  another,  the  one  not  being  contained  in  the  other. 
On  this  principle,  he  refutes  the  opposite  conceptions  of 
the  Epicureans  and  the  Stoics,  who  identify  the  two  terms — 
Epicurus  saying  that  virtue  coincides  with  happiness,  while 
Zeno  says  that  happiness  coincides  with  virtue.  The  two 
elements  must  then,  according  to  Kant,  be  regarded  as 
different  from  one  another.  Virtue  is  the  supreme  good,  the 
condition  of  which  happiness  is  the  consequence  ;  both  together 
constitute  the  sovereign  good} 

Such  being  the  definition  of  the  sovereign  good,  Kant  tells 
us  that  the  moral  law  commands  us  to  realize  it  as  far  as 
possible.  It  seems  surprising  that  Kant,  who  reduced  the 
notion  of  duty  to  good  will,  to  fulfilment  of  the  law  without 
any  consideration  of  consequences,  should  now  make  it  an 
obligation  for  man  to  bring  about  the  sovereign  good,  that  is 
to  say,  the  harmony  of  happiness  and  virtue.  Yet  this  is 
certainly  what  follows  from  a  great  many  passages  in  his 
writings. 

"  The  realization  of  the  summum  bonum  in  the  world  is  the  necessary 
object  of  a  will  determinable  by  the  moral  law.  .  .  .  Now  it  was  seen  to 
be  a  duty  for  us  to  promote  the  summum  bonum  ;  consequently  it  is  not 
merely  allowable,  but  it  is  a  necessity  connected  with  duty,  a  requisite 
that  we  should  presuppose  the  possibility  of  this  summum  bonum.  .  .  , 
The  moral  law  commands  me  to  make  the  highest  possible  good  in  the 
world  the  ultimate  object  of  all  my  conduct.  .  .  .  Thus  the  fact 
that  respect  for  the  moral  law  necessarily  makes  the  summum  bonum  an 
object  of  our  endeavours,  and  the  supposition  thence  resulting  of  its 
objective  reality,  lead,  through  the  postulates  of  practical  reason,  to  con- 
ceptions which  speculative  reason  might  indeed  present  as  problems  but 
could  never  solve.  .  .  .  For  we  do  not  thereby  take  knowledge  of  the 
nature  of  our  souls,  nor  of  the  intelligible  world,  nor  of  the  Supreme 
Being  with  respect  to  what  they  are  in  themselves,  but  we  have  merely 
combined  the  conceptions  of  them  in  the  practical  concept  of  the  summum 
bonum  as  the  object  of  our  will.  ...  In  order  to  extend  a  pure 
cognition  practically,  there  must  be  an  a  priori  purpose  given  ;  that  is,  an 
end  as  object  (of  the  will),  which  independently  of  all  theological  principle 

1  Here  and  in  what  follows  there  seems  to  be  some  confusion  between  Kant's 
bonum  supremum  and  his  bonum  comummatum.  See  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason,  Book  II,  Chap.  II  [Edr.]. 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  371 

is  presented  as  practically  necessary  by  an  imperative  which  determines 
the  will  directly  (a  categorical  imperative),  and  in  this  case  that  is  the 
summum  bonum." 

In  whatever  way  we  may  explain  this  singular  theory  which 
imposes  upon  the  will  the  realization  of  the  sovereign  good 
(although  it  was  laid  down  as  a  principle  that  the  only  thing 
that  depends  upon  ourselves  is  the  good  will),  it  is  certain  that 
there  must  be  a  foundation  for  this  possibility  of  the  supreme 
good ;  and  because  we  ourselves  are  unable  to  bring  about  the 
fulfilment  of  this  Sovereign  Good,  after  which  we  are  yet  bound 
to  strive,  Kant  infers  the  necessity  of  a  Being  who  would  make 
the  Sovereign  Good  possible,  in  other  words,  the  existence  of  God. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  this  theory  is  peculiar,  in  that  Kant, 
unlike  other  philosophers,  makes  use  of  the  moral  proof  of  the 
coincidence  of  virtue  and  happiness  to  prove,  not  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  but  the  existence  of  God.  By  so  doing  he 
seems  to  weaken  the  argument ;  for  on  the  usual  reasoning, 
given  on  the  one  hand  a  just  and  good  God  and  on  the  other 
the  necessity  of  a  moral  sanction  and  the  insufficiency  of 
earthly  sanctions,  it  is  easy  to  prove  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  But  it  is  otherwise  with  the  existence  of  God.  For, 
because  in  justice  virtue  demands  a  reward,  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  there  exists  One  Who  will  reward.  Kant  tries 
in  vain  to  add  force  to  his  proof  by  telling  us  that  it  is  our  duty 
to  realize  the  supreme  good,  and  that  consequently  the  supreme 
good  must  be  possible.  This  argument  is  invalidated  by  his 
own  theory  of  good  will. 

It  is,  however,  with  Kant's  proof  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  that  we  are  now  concerned.  This  proof  runs  thus :  The 
law  of  duty  demands  moral  perfection  or  holiness.  But  this  is 
impossible  in  our  present  life,  in  this  sensible  world,  and  even, 
in  general,  for  any  creature ;  therefore  it  can  only  be  attained 
by  an  indefinite  progress  (here  we  recognize  the  theory  of 
Leibnitz),  and  this  progress  is  only  possible  under  the  hypo- 
thesis of  an  existence  and  a  personality  that  are  indefinitely 
prolonged.  Thus  Kant  finds  the  proof  of  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  in  the  necessity  of  an  indefinite  time  for  the  attain- 
ment of  holiness,  which  is  at  once  an  obligation  and  an  impos- 
sibility in  our  present  conditions.  This  being  the  case,  we 
wonder  why  he  thought  it  necessary  to  found  this  proof  on  the 


372  THE   PROBLEMS   OF  PHILOSOPHY 

idea  of  the  Sovereign  Good  (virtue  and  happiness),  since  the  right 
to  holiness — for  we  may  so  sum  up  his  proof — was  immediately 
deducible  from  the  law  of  duty,  and  distinct  from  the  right  to 
happiness  which  belongs  to  another  order  of  ideas.  As  for  the 
obligation  to  realize  the  Sovereign  Good,  it  exists  not  for  us,  who 
are  only  bound  to  the  good,  but  for  the  Creator. 

The  Problem  of  Immortality  in  French  Philosophy :  The 
Spiritualistic  and  Humanitarian  Schools. 

The  French  Spiritualistic  schools  did  not  give  much  promin- 
ence to  the  problem  of  immortality.  We  may,  however, 
mention  the  Argument  du  Phddon,  by  V.  Cousin,  in  which 
Plato's  conceptions  are  developed  in  the  direction  of  an 
impersonal  rather  than  of  an  individual  immortality.  But  in  a 
later  work,  Du  Vrai,  du  Beau,  du  Bien,  he  makes  use  of 
Eousseau's  arguments  to  defend  the  personal  immortality  of  the 
soul. 

To  Cousin's  best  known  disciple,  Theodore  Jouffroy,  belongs 
the  credit  of  having  introduced  a  new  argument  which  bears  a 
strong  resemblance  to  that  of  Kant,  and  is  based  on  the  infinity 
of  our  tendencies,  the  injustice  there  would  be  if  death  were  to 
cut  short  all  that  exists  potentially  in  us.  Another  writer  has 
turned  this  argument  into  ridicule  by  applying  it  to  animals, 
and  particularly  to  oxen,  which  would,  he  says,  have  the  right  to 
claim  another  life  in  which  to  satisfy  instincts  that  had  been 
suppressed  in  them  (Taine,  Les  Philosophes  classiques).  But 
this  philosopher  forgets  that  animals  have  not  the  idea  or  the 
feeling  of  the  Infinite,  which  is  the  main  point  in  the  argument. 
This  idea  of  the  Infinite  and  of  a  progressive  movement  is  quite  in 
accordance  with  the  beliefs  of  the  perfectionists  in  our  century. 

The  same  idea,  only  on  a  larger  scale,  is  to  be  found  in 
another  school  of  this  century,  which  more  than  any  other  has 
occupied  itself  with  the  problem  of  a  future  life — I  mean  the 
humanitarian  school.  This  school,  more  or  less  under  the 
inspiration  of  the  Leibnitzian  theory  of  unconscious  mental 
modifications,  revived  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis.  This 
theory  was  held  in  common  by  Pierre  Leroux  and  Jean 
Reynaud,  the  authors  of  the  Encyclop6die  nouvelle,  but  they  did 
not  both  understand  it  in  the  same  manner.  In  his  book, 
L'Humanite',  Leroux  teaches  metempsychosis  in  mankind 


THE   PEOBLEM  OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  373 

• 

itself:  the  same  men  are  constantly  being  born  again.  This 
is  a  theory  of  individual,  but  not  of  personal  immortality.  The 
individual  is  not  absorbed  in  the  absolute  substance,  but  on 
entering  into  another  individual  body  he  loses  memory  and 
personality. 

Jean  Eeynaud  could  not  admit  this  immortality  which  is 
without  consciousness  and  without  recollection;  and  in  order  to 
preserve  personality  and  responsibility  he  teaches  that  the  trans- 
migration is  from  one  planet  to  another,  with  all  the  moral 
consequences  exacted  from  the  principle  of  merit  and  demerit. 
Such  is  the  doctrine  expounded  in  Terre  et  del,  a  doctrine  which 
is  further  remarkable  in  another  way.  Eeviving  the  theory  of 
Origen,  Keynaud  not  only  rejects  eternal  punishment,  but 
believes  in  a  final  reconciliation  and  a  final  victory  of  good  over 
evil.  Lamennais  in  his  Esgruisse  d'une philosophic,  likewise  holds 
the  perfectionist  doctrine  as  applied  to  a  future  life.  Finally,  in 
the  school  of  Saint  Simon,  a  personage  well  known  as  the  P&re 
Enfantin,  expounds  in  a  book  entitled  De  la  Vie  dternelle  a 
doctrine  similar  to  that  of  Spinoza.  We  may  add  that  in  the 
school  of  Auguste  Comte  the  idea  of  a  future  existence  is 
reduced  to  the  glorification  and  worship  of  great  men. 

Conclusion. 

The  history  of  the  problem  of  immortality  may  be  divided 
into  three  periods.  In  the  first,  the  period  of  its  infancy,  the 
belief  in  immortality  was  vague  and  uncertain.  With  the 
exception  of  the  Platonic  school,  where  the  spiritual  element 
first  appeared,  it  was  more  a  question  of  a  physical  persistence 
than  of  the  immortality  of  the  spirit.  Aristotle,  though  he 
rises  above  the  theory  of  a  mere  physical  permanence,  does  not 
give  much  space  to  the  question  of  spiritual  immortality. 

The  second  period  begins  with  Christianity,  which  brought 
about  the  fixed  and  final  establishment  of  the  belief  in  future 
life  as  of  a  dogma  that  was  absolute,  complete,  and  incontro- 
vertible. This  belief  became  the  criterion  of  true  spiritualism, 
and  the  slightest  doubt  regarding  it  incurred  the  suspicion  of 
atheism  and  materialism.  Consequently,  we  find  that,  in  the 
third  period,  philosophers  entered  upon  this  dangerous  ground 
with  caution.  A  new  line  was,  however,  taken,  namely,  the 
inquiry  into  the  possibility  of  a  future  life.  The  Materialists, 


374  THE   PEOBLEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

on  the  ground  of  the  dependence  of  the  mind  upon  the  organs, 
deny  it  as  absolutely  impossible.  The  Spiritualists  have  to 
choose  between  two  explanations  :  that  of  Kant  and  that  of 
Leibnitz.  Kant  starts  from  the  hypothesis  that  the  world 
is  a  phenomenon,  an  appearance  bound  up  with  the  human 
imagination,  whose  laws  are  not  applicable  to  things  in  them- 
selves. This  world  disappears  at  death,  together  with  the 
imagination  ;  therefore  the  soul  can  subsist  in  the  world  of 
noumena,  whatever  may  be  the  destiny  of  phenomena. 

On  the  hypothesis  of  Leibnitz,  immortality  is  brought  into 
harmony  with  the  laws  of  nature  by  means  of  the  idea  of 
transformation,  and  by  the  negation  of  death.  Future  life  is 
merely  a  continuation  of  our  actual  life,  under  other  condi- 
tions. Of  these  two  hypotheses,  that  of  Leibnitz  has  found  most 
favour  in  our  days,  while  that  of  Kant  borders  on  mysticism 
and  is  more  easily  reconciled  with  religion. 

But  even  amongst  those  who  accept  immortality  a  new 
controversy  has  arisen,  which  springs  from  a  difficulty  that 
was  vaguely  apprehended  before,  but  has  been  more  defined 
in  our  time — the  question  between  individual  immortality, 
as  understood  by  Leibnitz,  and  Spinoza's  impersonal  immor- 
tality. On  both  sides  there  is  a  tendency  to  exaggeration. 
For  though  on  the  one  hand  it  is  impossible,  without  running 
the  risk  of  falling  into  a  gross  form  of  metempsychosis  or  into 
a  spiritualism  scarcely  less  crude,  to  maintain  that  the 
individual  persists  with  all  his  defects  ;  on  the  other  hand  it  is 
not  permissible  to  carry  the  idea  of  impersonality  so  far  that 
it  ceases  to  have  anything  in  common  with  the  idea  of 
immortality,  or  so  as  to  identify  the  eternity  of  the  soul  with 
the  eternity  of  God,  which  was  not  in  question. 

It  is  not  incumbent  on  us  to  settle  this  dispute  ;  we  shall 
merely  observe,  without  professing  to  solve  the  problem,  that  a 
solution  may  be  approached  through  the  distinction  we  have 
drawn  in  our  Morale  between  the  individual  and  the  person  ; 
and  herewith  we  shall  conclude  our  last  essay.  "  Personality 
has  its  root  in  individuality,  but  tends  unceasingly  to  free 
itself  from  individuality.  The  individual  is  concentrated  in 
himself;  personality  aspires  to  rise  beyond  itself.  The  ideal 
of  individuality  is  egoism,  the  whole  referred  to  the  ego ;  the 
ideal  of  personality  is  altruism,  the  ego  identifying  itself  with 


THE  PROBLEM   OF  A   FUTURE   LIFE  375 

the  whole.  Personality  is,  as  it  were,  consciousness  of  the 
impersonal.  It  is  not  in  so  far  as  I  am  capable  of  sensation 
that  I  am  a  person,  but  in  so  far  as  I  think,  love,  and  will:  in 
so  far  as  I  think  the  True,  as  I  love  the  Good,  as  I  will  the 
True  and  the  Good.  What  is  inviolable  in  other  men  is  not 
their  animal  feelings  nor  their  vital  functions,  but  the  divine 
spark  that  is  in  them,  the  capacity  of  sharing  like  myself  in 
what  is  neither  theirs  nor  mine,  in  the  light  that  shines  on  all 
minds — in  truth,  in  justice,  in  freedom,  in  all  that  is  imper- 
sonal. It  is  this  consciousness  of  the  divine  in  every  man  that 
is  immortal,  and  not  this  or  that  fragile  or  illusory  accident 
which  in  vain  we  would  desire  to  preserve."  This  kind  of 
immortality  would  not  be  merely  speculative ;  for  in  the  heart, 
as  in  the  mind,  there  is  something  that  is  eternal. 


THE    END. 


OLASOOW  :     PRINTKD  AT   THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS    BY    ROBERT   MACLEHOSE    AND   CO.