free cause, who is determined by nothing outside of Himself, for He
exists solely by the necessity of His nature. There is no cause which
inwardly or outwardly moves Him to act, except the perfection of His
nature. His activity is by the laws of His Being necessary and eternal;
what therefore follows from His absolute nature, from His attributes,
is eternal, as it follows from the nature of the triangle from eternity
and to eternity that its three angles are equal to two right angles.”
That is to say, His Being is His absolute power; _actus_ and _potentia_,
Thought and Being, are in Him one. God has not therefore any other
thoughts which He could not have actualized. “God is the immanent cause
of all things, not the transient (_transiens_),” _i.e._, external
cause. “His essence and His existence are the same, namely, the truth.
A thing which is determined to perform some action, is, since God is
cause, necessarily determined thereto by God; and a thing which is thus
determined cannot render itself undetermined. In nature nothing is
contingent. Will is not a free cause, but only a necessary cause, only a
mode; it is therefore determined by another. God acts in accordance with
no final causes (_sub ratione boni_). Those who assert that He does so,
appear to establish something apart from God, which does not depend on
God, and which God in His working keeps in view, as though it were an
end. If this view is taken, God is not a free cause, but is subject to
fate. It is equally inadmissible to subject all things to the arbitrary
pleasure of God, _i.e._, to His indifferent will.”[197] He is determined
solely by His own nature; the activity of God is thus His power, and that
is necessity. He is then absolute power in contrast to wisdom, which
sets up definite aims, and consequently limitations; particular aims,
thoughts of what is about to come to pass, and the like are therefore put
out of the question. But beyond this universal, no advance is made; for
it must be noticed as specially singular, that Spinoza in the fiftieth
Letter (Oper. T. I. p. 634) says that every determination is a negation.
Moreover, if God is the cause of the world, it is implied that He is
finite; for the world is here put beside God as something different from
Him.
b. The greatest difficulty in Spinoza is, in the distinctions to which
he comes, to grasp the relation of this determinate to God, at the same
time preserving the determination. “God is a thinking Being, because all
individual thoughts are modes which express God’s nature in a certain
and determinate manner; there pertains therefore to God an attribute the
conception of which all individual thoughts involve, and by means of this
they also are conceived. God is an extended Being for the same reason.”
This means that the same substance, under the attribute of thought, is
the intelligible world, and under the attribute of extension, is nature;
nature and thought thus both express the same Essence of God. Or, as
Spinoza says, “The order and system of natural things is the same as
the order of the thoughts. Thus, for instance, the circle which exists
in nature, and the idea of the existing circle, which is also in God,
are one and the same thing” (they are one and the same content), “which
is” merely “expressed by means of different attributes. If we therefore
regard nature either under the attribute of extension or of thought,
or under any other attribute whatever, we shall find one and the same
connection of causes, _i.e._, the same sequence of things. The formal
Being of the idea of the circle can be conceived only by means of the
mode of thought, as its proximate cause, and this mode again by means of
another, and so on infinitely; so that we must explain the order of the
whole of nature, or the connection of causes, by the attribute of thought
alone, and if things are considered by the attribute of extension, they
must be considered only by the attribute of extension,—and the same holds
good of other causes.”[198] It is one and the same system, which at one
time appears as nature, and at another time in the form of thought.
But Spinoza does not demonstrate how these two are evolved from the
one substance, nor does he prove why there can only be two of them.
Neither are extension and thought anything to him in themselves, or in
truth, but only externally; for their difference is a mere matter of the
understanding, which is ranked by Spinoza only among affections (Eth. P.
I. Prop. XXXI. Demonst. p. 62), and as such has no truth. This has in
recent times been served up again by Schelling in the following form:
In themselves, the intelligent world and the corporeal world are the
same, only under different forms; so that the intelligent universe is in
itself the whole absolute divine totality, and the corporeal universe is
equally this same totality. The differences are not in themselves, but
the different aspects from which the Absolute is regarded are matters
external to it. We take a higher tone in saying that nature and mind
are rational; but reason is for us no empty word, for it means the
totality which develops itself within itself. Again, it is the standpoint
of reflection to regard aspects only, and nothing in itself. This
defect appears in Spinoza and Schelling in the fact that they see no
necessity why the Notion, as the implicit negative of its unity, should
make a separation of itself into different parts; so that out of the
simple universal the real, the opposed, itself becomes known. Absolute
substance, attribute and mode, Spinoza allows to follow one another as
definitions, he adopts them ready-made, without the attributes being
developed from the substance, or the modes from the attributes. And more
especially in regard to the attributes, there is no necessity evident,
why these are thought and extension in particular.
c. When Spinoza passes on to individual things, especially to
self-consciousness, to the freedom of the ‘I,’ he expresses himself in
such a way as rather to lead back all limitations to substance than
to maintain a firm grasp of the individual. Thus we already found the
attributes not to be independent, but only the forms in which the
understanding grasps substance in its differences; what comes third,
the modes, is that under which for Spinoza all difference of things
alone falls. Of the modes he says (Ethic. P. I. Prop. XXXII. Demonst. et
Coroll. II. p. 63): In every attribute there are two modes; in extension,
these are rest and motion, in thought they are understanding and will
(_intellectus et voluntas_). They are mere modifications which only exist
for us apart from God; therefore whatever refers to this difference and
is specially brought about by it, is not absolute, but finite. These
affections Spinoza sums up (Ethices, P. I. Prop. XXIX. Schol. pp. 61, 62)
under the head of _natura naturata_: “_Natura naturans_ is God regarded
as free cause, in so far as He is in Himself and is conceived by Himself:
or such attributes of substance as express the eternal and infinite
essence. By _natura naturata_, I understand all that follows from the
necessity of the divine nature, or from any of the attributes of God,
all modes of the divine attributes, in so far as they are regarded as
things which are in God, and which without God can neither exist nor be
conceived.” From God proceeds nothing, for all things merely return to
the point whence they came, if from themselves the commencement is made.
These then are Spinoza’s general forms, this is his principal idea. Some
further determinations have still to be mentioned. He gives definitions
of the terms modes, understanding, will, and of the affections, such
as joy and sadness.[199] We further find consciousness taken into
consideration. Its development is extremely simple, or rather it is not
developed at all; Spinoza begins directly with mind. “The essence of
man consists of certain modifications of the attributes of God”; these
modifications are only something related to our understanding. “If we,
therefore, say that the human mind perceives this or that, it means
nothing else than that God has this or that idea, not in so far as He
is infinite, but in so far as He is expressed by the idea of the human
mind. And if we say that God has this or that idea, not in so far as
He constitutes the idea of the human mind, but in so far as He has,
along with the human mind, the idea of another thing, then we say that
the human mind perceives the thing partially or inadequately.” Truth
is for Spinoza, on the other hand, the adequate.[200] The idea that
all particular content is only a modification of God is ridiculed by
Bayle,[201] who argues from it that God modified as Turks and Austrians,
is waging war with Himself; but Bayle has not a trace of the speculative
element in him, although he is acute enough as a dialectician, and has
contributed to the intelligent discussion of definite subjects.
The relation of thought and extension in the human consciousness is dealt
with by Spinoza as follows: “What has a place in the object” (or rather
in the objective) “of the idea which constitutes the human mind must be
perceived by the human mind; or there must necessarily be in the mind
an idea of this object. The object of the idea which constitutes the
human mind is body, or a certain mode of extension. If, then, the object
of the idea which constitutes the human mind, is the body, there can
happen nothing in the body which is not perceived by the mind. Otherwise
the ideas of the affections of the body would not be in God, in so far
as He constitutes our mind, but the idea of another thing: that is to
say, the ideas of the affections of our body would not be likewise in
our mind.” What is perplexing to understand in Spinoza’s system is, on
the one hand, the absolute identity of thought and Being, and, on the
other hand, their absolute indifference to one another, because each
of them is a manifestation of the whole essence of God. The unity of
the body and consciousness is, according to Spinoza, this, that the
individual is a mode of the absolute substance, which, as consciousness,
is the representation of the manner in which the body is affected by
external things; all that is in consciousness is also in extension, and
conversely. “Mind knows itself only in so far as it perceives the ideas
of the affections of body,” it has only the idea of the affections of its
body; this idea is synthetic combination, as we shall immediately see.
“The ideas, whether of the attributes of God or of individual things,
do not recognize as their efficient cause their objects themselves, or
the things perceived, but God Himself, in so far as He is that which
thinks.”[202] Buhle (Geschichte der neuern Philos. Vol. III. Section
II. p. 524) sums up these propositions of Spinoza thus: “Thought is
inseparably bound up with extension; therefore all that takes place in
extension must also take place in consciousness.” Spinoza, however, also
accepts both in their separation from one another. The idea of body,
he writes (Epistol. LXVI. p. 673), includes only these two in itself,
and does not express any other attributes. The body which it represents
is regarded under the attribute of extension; but the idea itself is
a mode of thought. Here we see a dividing asunder; mere identity, the
undistinguishable nature of all things in the Absolute, is insufficient
even for Spinoza.
The _individuum_, individuality itself, is thus defined by Spinoza
(Ethic. P. II. Prop. XIII. Defin. p. 92): “When several bodies of the
same or of different magnitudes are so pressed together that they rest on
one another, or when, moving with like or different degrees of rapidity,
they communicate their movement to one another in a certain measure, we
say that such bodies are united to one another, and that all together
they form one body or individuum, which by this union distinguishes
itself from all the other bodies.” Here we are at the extreme limit
of Spinoza’s system, and it is here that his weak point appears.
Individuation, the one, is a mere synthesis; it is quite a different
thing from the Ichts or self-hood of Boehme (_supra_, pp. 205-207), since
Spinoza has only universality, thought, and not self-consciousness. If,
before considering this in reference to the whole, we take it from the
other side, namely from the understanding, the distinction really falls
under that head; it is not deduced, it is found. Thus, as we have already
seen (p. 270) “the understanding in act (_intellectus actu_), as also
will, desire, love, must be referred to _natura naturata_, not to _natura
naturans_. For by the understanding, as recognized for itself, we do not
mean absolute thought, but only a certain mode of thought—a mode which is
distinct from other modes like desire, love, etc., and on that account
must be conceived by means of absolute thought, _i.e._ by means of an
attribute of God which expresses an eternal and infinite essentiality
of thought; without which the understanding, as also the rest of the
modes of thought, could neither be nor be conceived to be.” (Spinoza,
Ethices, P. I. Propos. XXXI. pp. 62, 63). Spinoza is unacquainted with
an infinity of form, which would be something quite different from that
of rigid, unyielding substance. What is requisite is to recognize God as
the essence of essences, as universal substance, identity, and yet to
preserve distinctions.
Spinoza goes on to say: “What constitutes the real (_actuale_) existence
of the human mind is nothing else than the idea of a particular”
(individual) “thing, that actually exists,” not of an infinite thing.
“The essence of man involves no necessary existence, _i.e._ according
to the order of nature a man may just as well be as not be.” For the
human consciousness, as it does not belong to essence as an attribute,
is a mode—a mode of the attribute of thought. But neither is the body,
according to Spinoza, the cause of consciousness, nor is consciousness
the cause of the body, but the finite cause is here only the relation
of like to like; body is determined by body, conception by conception.
“The body can neither determine the mind to thought, nor can the mind
determine the body to motion, or rest, or anything else. For all modes
of thought have God as Cause, in so far as He is a thinking thing, and
not in so far as He is revealed by means of another attribute. What
therefore determines the mind to thought, is a mode of thought and not
of extension; similarly motion and rest of the body must be derived from
another body.”[203] I might quote many other such particular propositions
from Spinoza, but they are very formal, and a continual repetition of one
and the same thing.
Buhle (Gesch. d. neuern Phil. Vol. III. Section 2, pp. 525-528),
attributes limited conceptions to Spinoza: “The soul experiences in the
body all the ‘other’ of which it becomes aware as outside of the body,
and it becomes aware of this ‘other’ only by means of the conceptions
of the qualities which the body perceives therein. If, therefore, the
body can perceive no qualities of a thing, the soul also can come to
no knowledge of it. On the other hand, the soul is equally unable to
arrive at the perception of the body which belongs to it; the soul knows
not that the body is there, and knows itself even in no other way than
by means of the qualities which the body perceives in things which are
outside of it, and by means of the conceptions of the same. For the
body is an individual thing, determined in a certain manner, which can
only gradually, in association with and amidst other individual things,
attain to existence, and can preserve itself in existence only as thus
connected, combined and associated with others,” _i.e._ in infinite
progress; the body can by no means be conceived from itself. “The soul’s
consciousness expresses a certain determinate form of a Notion, as the
Notion itself expresses a determinate form of an individual thing. But
the individual thing, its Notion, and the Notion of this Notion are
altogether and entirely one and the same thing, only regarded under
different attributes. As the soul is nothing else than the immediate
Notion of the body, and is one and the same thing with this, the
excellence of the soul can never be anything else than the excellence
of the body. The capacities of the understanding are nothing but the
capacities of the body, if they are looked at from the corporeal point of
view, and the decisions of the will are likewise determinations of the
body. Individual things are derived from God in an eternal and infinite
manner” (_i.e._ once and for all), “and not in a transitory, finite and
evanescent manner: they are derived from one another merely inasmuch
as they mutually produce and destroy each other, but in their eternal
existence they endure unchangeable. All individual things mutually
presuppose each other; one cannot be thought without the other; that is
to say they constitute together an inseparable whole; they exist side
by side in one utterly indivisible, infinite Thing, and in no other way
whatever.”
3. We have now to speak of Spinoza’s system of morals, and that is
a subject of importance. Its great principle is no other than this,
that the finite spirit is moral in so far as it has the true Idea,
_i.e._ in so far as it directs its knowledge and will on God, for
truth is merely the knowledge of God. It may be said that there is no
morality loftier than this, since its only requisite is to have a clear
idea of God. The first thing Spinoza speaks of in this regard is the
affections: “Everything strives after self-preservation. This striving
is the actual essence of the thing, and involves only indefinite time;
when referred exclusively to mind, it is termed will; when referred to
both mind and body together, it is called desire. Determination of
the will (_volitio_) and Idea are one and the same thing. The sense of
liberty rests on this, that men do not know the determining causes of
their actions. The affection is a confused idea; the more clearly and
distinctly, therefore, we know the affection, the more it is under our
control.”[204] The influence of the affections, as confused and limited
(inadequate) ideas, upon human action, constitutes therefore, according
to Spinoza, human slavery; of the passionate affections the principal are
joy and sorrow; we are in suffering and slavery in so far as we relate
ourselves as a part.[205]
“Our happiness and liberty consist in an enduring and eternal love to
God; this intellectual love follows from the nature of mind, in so far
as it is regarded as eternal truth through the nature of God. The more
a man recognizes God’s existence and loves Him, the less does he suffer
from evil affections and the less is his fear of death.”[206] Spinoza
requires in addition the true kind of knowledge. There are, according to
him, three kinds of knowledge; in the first, which he calls opinion and
imagination, he includes the knowledge which we obtain from an individual
object through the senses—a knowledge fragmentary and ill-arranged—also
knowledge drawn from signs, pictorial conceptions and memory. The second
kind of knowledge is for Spinoza that which we derive from general
conceptions and adequate ideas of the properties of things. The third
is intuitive knowledge (_scientia intuitiva_) which rises from the
adequate idea of the formal essence of certain attributes of God to
the adequate knowledge of the essence of things.[207] Regarding this
last he then says: “The nature of reason is not to contemplate things
as contingent, but as necessary ... to think of all things under a
certain form of eternity (_sub quadam specie œternitatis_);” _i.e._ in
absolutely adequate Notions, _i.e._ in God. “For the necessity of things
is the necessity of the eternal nature of God Himself. Every idea of an
individual thing necessarily includes the eternal and infinite essence of
God in itself. For individual things are modes of an attribute of God;
therefore they must include in themselves His eternal essence. Our mind,
in so far as it knows itself and the body under the form of eternity,
has to that extent necessarily the knowledge of God, and knows that it
is itself in God and is conceived through God. All Ideas, in so far
as they are referable to God, are true.”[208] Man must trace back all
things to God, for God is the One in All; the eternal essence of God is
the one thing that is, the eternal truth is the only thing for man to
aim at in his actions. With Spinoza this is not a knowledge arrived at
through philosophy, but only knowledge of a truth. “The mind can succeed
in tracing back all affections of the body or images of things to God. In
proportion as the mind regards all things as necessary, it has a greater
power over its affections,” which are arbitrary and contingent. This is
the return of the mind to God, and this is human freedom; as mode, on the
other hand, the spirit has no freedom, but is determined from without.
“From the third kind of knowledge there arises the repose of the mind;
the supreme good of the mind is to know God, and this is its highest
virtue. This knowledge necessarily produces the intellectual love of
God; for it produces a joyfulness accompanied by the Idea of God as
cause—_i.e._ the intellectual love of God. God Himself loves Himself with
an infinite intellectual love.”[209] For God can have only Himself as aim
and cause; and the end of the subjective mind is to be directed on Him.
This is therefore the purest, but also a universal morality.
In the thirty-sixth Letter (pp. 581-582) Spinoza speaks of Evil. The
allegation is made that God, as the originator of all things and
everything, is also the originator of evil, is consequently Himself evil;
in this identity all things are one, good and evil are in themselves the
same thing, in God’s substance this difference has disappeared. Spinoza
says in answer to this: “I assert the fact that God absolutely and truly”
(as cause of Himself) “is the cause of everything that has an essential
content” (_i.e._ affirmative reality) “be it what it may. Now if you can
prove to me that evil, error, crime, etc., are something that expresses
an essence, I will freely admit to you that God is the originator of
crime and evil and error. But I have elsewhere abundantly demonstrated
that the form of evil cannot subsist in anything that expresses an
essence, and therefore it cannot be said that God is the cause of evil.”
Evil is merely negation, privation, limitation, finality, mode—nothing
in itself truly real. “Nero’s murder of his mother, in so far as it had
positive content, was no crime. For Orestes did the same external deed,
and had in doing it the same end in view—to kill his mother; and yet he
is not blamed,” and so on. The affirmative is the will, the intention,
the act of Nero. “Wherein then consists Nero’s criminality? In nothing
else but that he proved himself ungrateful, merciless, and disobedient.
But it is certain that all this expresses no essence, and therefore
God was not the cause of it, though He was the cause of Nero’s action
and intention.” These last are something positive, but yet they do not
constitute the crime as such; it is only the negative element, such
as mercilessness, etc. that makes the action a crime. “We know that
whatever exists, regarded in itself and without taking anything else
into consideration, contains a perfection which extends as widely as
the essence of the thing itself extends, for the essence is in no way
different therefrom.”—“Because then,” we find in the thirty-second letter
(pp. 541, 543), “God does not regard things abstractly, or form general
definitions,” (of what the thing ought to be) “and no more reality is
required of things than the Divine understanding and power has given
and actually meted out to them; therefore it clearly follows that such
privation exists only and solely in respect to our understanding, but
not in respect to God;” for God is absolutely real. It is all very well
to say this, but it does not meet the case. For in this way God and
the respect to our understanding are different. Where is their unity?
How is this to be conceived? Spinoza continues in the thirty-sixth
letter: “Although the works of the righteous (_i.e._ of those who have
a clear idea of God, to which they direct all their actions and even
their thoughts), and” also the works “of the wicked (_i.e._ of those
who have no idea of God, but only ideas of earthly things,”—individual,
personal interests and opinions,—“by which their actions and thoughts
are directed), and all whatsoever exists, necessarily proceed from God’s
eternal laws and counsels, and perpetually depend on God, they are
yet not distinguished from one another in degree, but in essence; for
although a mouse as well as an angel depends on God, and sorrow as well
as joy, yet a mouse cannot be a kind of angel, and sorrow cannot be a
kind of joy,”—they are different in essence.
There is therefore no ground for the objection that Spinoza’s philosophy
gives the death-blow to morality; we even gain from it the great result
that all that is sensuous is mere limitation, and that there is only one
true substance, and that human liberty consists in keeping in view this
one substance, and in regulating all our conduct in accordance with the
mind and will of the Eternal One. But in this philosophy it may with
justice be objected that God is conceived only as Substance, and not
as Spirit, as concrete. The independence of the human soul is therein
also denied, while in the Christian religion every individual appears as
determined to salvation. Here, on the contrary, the individual spirit is
only a mode, an accident, but not anything substantial. This brings us to
a general criticism of the philosophy of Spinoza, in the course of which
we shall consider it from three different points of view.
In the first place Spinozism is asserted to be Atheism—by Jacobi, for
instance (Werke, Vol. IV. Section I. p. 216)—because in it no distinction
is drawn between God and the world; it makes nature the real God, or
lowers God to the level of nature, so that God disappears and only nature
is established. But it is not so much God and nature that Spinoza sets up
in mutual opposition, as thought and extension; and God is unity, not One
made up of two, but absolute Substance, in which has really disappeared
the limitation of the subjectivity of thought and nature. Those who
speak against Spinoza do so as if it were on God’s account that they
were interested; but what these opponents are really concerned about is
not God, but the finite—themselves. The relationship between God and the
finite, to which we belong, may be represented in three different ways:
firstly, only the finite exists, and in this way we alone exist, but God
does not exist—this is atheism; the finite is here taken absolutely,
and is accordingly the substantial. Or, in the second place, God alone
exists; the finite has no reality, it is only phenomena, appearance. To
say, in the third place, that God exists and we also exist is a false
synthetic union, an amicable compromise. It is the popular view of the
matter that the one side has as much substantiality as the other; God
is honoured and supreme, but finite things also have Being to exactly
the same extent. Reason cannot remain satisfied with this “also,” with
indifference like this. The philosophic requisite is therefore to
apprehend the unity of these differences in such a way that difference
is not let slip, but proceeds eternally from substance, without being
petrified into dualism. Spinoza is raised above this dualism; religion is
so also, if we turn its popular conceptions into thoughts. The atheism
of the first attitude—when men set up as ultimate the arbitrariness of
the will, their own vanity, the finite things of nature, and the world
dwells for ever in the mind—is not the standpoint of Spinoza, for whom
God is the one and only substance, the world on the contrary being merely
an affection or mode of this substance. In the respect that Spinoza does
not distinguish God from the world, the finite, it is therefore correct
to term his theory atheism, for his words are these: Nature, the human
mind, the individual, are God revealed under particular forms. It has
been already remarked (pp. 257, 258, 280) that undoubtedly Substance
with Spinoza does not perfectly fulfil the conception of God, since
it is as Spirit that He is to be conceived. But if Spinoza is called
an atheist for the sole reason that he does not distinguish God from
the world, it is a misuse of the term. Spinozism might really just as
well or even better have been termed Acosmism, since according to its
teaching it is not to the world, finite existence, the universe, that
reality and permanency are to be ascribed, but rather to God alone
as the substantial. Spinoza maintains that there is no such thing as
what is known as the world; it is merely a form of God, and in and for
itself it is nothing. The world has no true reality, and all this that
we know as the world has been cast into the abyss of the one identity.
There is therefore no such thing as finite reality, it has no truth
whatever; according to Spinoza what is, is God, and God alone. Therefore
the allegations of those who accuse Spinoza of atheism are the direct
opposite of the truth; with him there is too much God. They say: If
God is the identity of mind and nature, then nature or the individual
man is God. This is quite correct, but they forget that nature and the
individual disappear in this same identity: and they cannot forgive
Spinoza for thus annihilating them. Those who defame him in such a way
as this are therefore not aiming at maintaining God, but at maintaining
the finite and the worldly; they do not fancy their own extinction and
that of the world. Spinoza’s system is absolute pantheism and monotheism
elevated into thought. Spinozism is therefore very far removed from being
atheism in the ordinary sense; but in the sense that God is not conceived
as spirit, it is atheism. However, in the same way many theologians are
also atheists who speak of God only as the Almighty Supreme Being, etc.,
who refuse to acknowledge God, and who admit the validity and truth of
the finite. They are many degrees worse than Spinoza.
The second point to be considered is the method adopted by Spinoza for
setting forth his philosophy; it is the demonstrative method of geometry
as employed by Euclid, in which we find definitions, explanations,
axioms, and theorems. Even Descartes made it his starting-point that
philosophic propositions must be mathematically handled and proved, that
they must have the very same evidence as mathematics. The mathematical
method is considered superior to all others, on account of the nature
of its evidence; and it is natural that independent knowledge in its
re-awakening lighted first upon this form, of which it saw so brilliant
an example. The mathematical method is, however, ill-adapted for
speculative content, and finds its proper place only in the finite
sciences of the understanding. In modern times Jacobi has asserted
(Werke, Vol. IV. Section I. pp. 217-223) that all demonstration, all
scientific knowledge leads back to Spinozism, which alone is a logical
method of thought; and because it must lead thither, it is really of
no service whatever, but immediate knowledge is what we must depend on.
It may be conceded to Jacobi that the method of demonstration leads
to Spinozism, if we understand thereby merely the method of knowledge
belonging to the understanding. But the fact is that Spinoza is made a
testing-point in modern philosophy, so that it may really be said: You
are either a Spinozist or not a philosopher at all. This being so, the
mathematical and demonstrative method of Spinoza would seem to be only
a defect in the external form; but it is the fundamental defect of the
whole position. In this method the nature of philosophic knowledge and
the object thereof, are entirely misconceived, for mathematical knowledge
and method are merely formal in character and consequently altogether
unsuited for philosophy. Mathematical knowledge exhibits its proof on
the existent object as such, not on the object as conceived; the Notion
is lacking throughout; the content of Philosophy, however, is simply
the Notion and that which is comprehended by the Notion. Therefore this
Notion as the knowledge of the essence is simply one assumed, which falls
within the philosophic subject; and this is what represents itself to
be the method peculiar to Spinoza’s philosophy. Of this demonstrative
manner we have already seen these examples: (α) The definitions from
which Spinoza takes his start—as in geometry a commencement is made
with the line, triangle, &c.—concern universal determinations, such as
cause of itself, the finite, substance, attribute, mode, and so on,
which are solely and simply accepted and assumed, not deduced, nor
proved to be necessary: for Spinoza is not aware of how he arrives at
these individual determinations. (β) He further speaks of axioms, for
instance (Ethic. P. I. Ax. I. p. 36): “What is, is either in itself or
in another.” The determinations “in itself” and “in another” are not
shown forth in their necessity: neither is this disjunction proved, it
is merely assumed. (γ) The propositions have, as such, a subject and
predicate which are not similar. When the predicate is proved of the
subject and necessarily combined with it, the discrepancy remains that
the one as universal is related to the other as particular: therefore
even although the relation is proved, there is present at the same time
a secondary relation. Mathematical science, in its true propositions
respecting a whole, escapes from the difficulty by proving also the
converse of the propositions, in this way obtaining for them a special
definiteness by proving each proposition in both ways. True propositions
may, therefore, be looked on as definitions, and the conversion is the
proof of the proposition in the form in which it is expressed. But this
means of escaping the difficulty Philosophy cannot well employ, since
the subject of which something is proved is itself only the Notion or
the universal, and the proposition form is therefore quite superfluous
and out of place. What has the form of the subject is in the form of an
existent thing, as contrasted with the universal, the content of the
proposition. The existent thing is taken as signifying existent in the
ordinary sense; it is the word which we use in every-day life, and of
which we have a conception that has nothing of the Notion in it. The
converse of a proposition would simply read like this: The Notion is
that which is thus popularly conceived. This proof from the usage of
language—that we also understand this to be the meaning in every-day
life, or in other words that the name is correct—has no philosophic
significance. But if the proposition is not one like this, but an
ordinary proposition, and if the predicate is not the Notion, but some
general term or other, a predicate of the subject, such propositions are
really not philosophic: we might instance the statement that substance
is one and not several, but only that in which substance and unity are
the same. Or, in other words, this unity of the two moments is the very
thing which the proof has to demonstrate, it is the Notion or the
essence. In this case it looks as if the proposition were the matter
of chief importance, the truth. But if in these really only so-called
propositions, subject and predicate are in truth not alike, because one
is individual and the other universal, their relation is essential,
_i.e._ the reason for which they are one. The proof has here a false
position indeed, as if that subject were implicit or in itself, whereas
subject and predicate are, fundamentally even, moments in separation;
in the judgment “God is One,” the subject itself is universal, since
it resolves itself into unity. On the other side it is implied in this
false position that the proof is brought in from outside merely, as in
mathematics from a preceding proposition, and that the proposition is not
therefore conceived through itself; thus we see the ordinary method of
proof take its middle term, the principle, from anywhere it can, in the
same way as in classification it takes its principle of classification.
The proposition is then, as it were, a secondary affair; but we must
ask if this proposition is true. The result as proposition ought to be
truth, but is only knowledge. The movement of knowledge, as proof, falls
therefore, in the third place, outside of the proposition, which ought
to be the truth. The essential moments of the system are really already
completely contained in the presuppositions of the definitions, from
which all further proofs have merely to be deduced. But whence have we
these categories which here appear as definitions? We find them doubtless
in ourselves, in scientific culture. The existence of the understanding,
the will, extension, is therefore not developed from infinite substance,
but it is directly expressed in these determinations, and that quite
naturally; for of a truth there exists the One into which everything
enters, in order to be absorbed therein, but out of which nothing comes.
For as Spinoza has set up the great proposition, all determination
implies negation (_supra_, p. 267), and as of everything, even of thought
in contrast to extension, it may be shown that it is determined and
finite, what is essential in it rests upon negation. Therefore God alone
is the positive, the affirmative, and consequently the one substance;
all other things, on the contrary, are only modifications of this
substance, and are nothing in and for themselves. Simple determination or
negation belongs only to form, but is quite another thing from absolute
determinateness or negativity, which is absolute form; in this way
of looking at it negation is the negation of negation, and therefore
true affirmation. This negative self-conscious moment, the movement of
knowledge, which pursues its way in the thought which is present before
us, is however certainly lacking to the content of Spinoza’s philosophy,
or at least it is only externally associated with it, since it falls
within self-consciousness. That is to say, thoughts form the content, but
they are not self-conscious thoughts or Notions: the content signifies
thought, as pure abstract self-consciousness, but an unreasoning
knowledge, into which the individual does not enter: the content has
not the signification of ‘I.’ Therefore the case is as in mathematics;
a proof is certainly given, conviction must follow, but yet the matter
fails to be understood. There is a rigid necessity in the proof, to
which the moment of self-consciousness is lacking; the ‘I’ disappears,
gives itself altogether up, merely withers away. Spinoza’s procedure
is therefore quite correct; yet the individual proposition is false,
seeing that it expresses only one side of the negation. The understanding
has determinations which do not contradict one another; contradiction
the understanding cannot suffer. The negation of negation is, however,
contradiction, for in that it negates negation as simple determination,
it is on the one hand affirmation, but on the other hand also really
negation; and this contradiction, which is a matter pertaining to reason,
is lacking in the case of Spinoza. There is lacking the infinite form,
spirituality and liberty. I have already mentioned before this (pp. 93,
94; 129-137) that Lullus and Bruno attempted to draw up a system of form,
which should embrace and comprehend the one substance which organizes
itself into the universe; this attempt Spinoza did not make.
Because negation was thus conceived by Spinoza in one-sided fashion
merely, there is, in the third place, in his system, an utter blotting
out of the principle of subjectivity, individuality, personality, the
moment of self-consciousness in Being. Thought has only the signification
of the universal, not of self-consciousness. It is this lack which has,
on the one side, brought the conception of the liberty of the subject
into such vehement antagonism to the system of Spinoza, because it
set aside the independence of the human consciousness, the so-called
liberty which is merely the empty abstraction of independence, and in
so doing set aside God, as distinguished from nature and the human
consciousness—that is as implicit or in Himself, in the Absolute; for
man has the consciousness of freedom, of the spiritual, which is the
negative of the corporeal, and man has also the consciousness that his
true Being lies in what is opposed to the corporeal. This has been
firmly maintained by religion, theology, and the sound common sense of
the common consciousness, and this form of opposition to Spinoza appears
first of all in the assertion that freedom is real, and that evil exists.
But because for Spinoza, on the other hand, there exists only absolute
universal substance as the non-particularized, the truly real—all that is
particular and individual, my subjectivity and spirituality, has, on the
other hand, as a limited modification whose Notion depends on another,
no absolute existence. Thus the soul, the Spirit, in so far as it is
an individual Being, is for Spinoza a mere negation, like everything
in general that is determined. As all differences and determinations
of things and of consciousness simply go back into the One substance,
one may say that in the system of Spinoza all things are merely cast
down into this abyss of annihilation. But from this abyss nothing comes
out; and the particular of which Spinoza speaks is only assumed and
presupposed from the ordinary conception, without being justified. Were
it to be justified, Spinoza would have to deduce it from his Substance;
but that does not open itself out, and therefore comes to no vitality,
spirituality or activity. His philosophy has only a rigid and unyielding
substance, and not yet spirit; in it we are not at home with ourselves.
But the reason that God is not spirit is that He is not the Three in
One. Substance remains rigid and petrified, without Boehme’s sources or
springs; for the individual determinations in the form of determinations
of the understanding are not Boehme’s originating spirits, which energize
and expand in one another (_supra_, pp. 202, 203). What we find regarding
this particular then is that it is only a modification of absolute
substance, which, however, is not declared to be such; for the moment of
negativity is what is lacking to this rigid motionlessness, whose single
form of activity is this, to divest all things of their determination
and particularity and cast them back into the one absolute substance,
wherein they are simply swallowed up, and all life in itself is utterly
destroyed. This is what we find philosophically inadequate with Spinoza;
distinctions are externally present, it is true, but they remain
external, since even the negative is not known in itself. Thought is the
absolutely abstract, and for that very reason the absolutely negative; it
is so in truth, but with Spinoza it is not asserted to be the absolutely
negative. But if in opposition to Spinozism we hold fast to the assertion
that Spirit, as distinguishing itself from the corporeal, is substantial,
actual, true, and in the same way that freedom is not something merely
privative, then this actuality in formal thought is doubtless correct,
yet it rests only upon feeling; but the further step is that the Idea
essentially includes within itself motion and vitality, and that it
consequently has in itself the principle of spiritual freedom. On the one
hand, therefore, the defect of Spinozism is conceived as consisting in
its want of correspondence with actuality; but on the other side it is to
be apprehended in a higher sense, I mean in the sense that substance with
Spinoza is only the Idea taken altogether abstractly, not in its vitality.
If, in conclusion, we sum up this criticism that we have offered, we
would say that on the one hand with Spinoza negation or privation is
distinct from substance; for he merely assumes individual determinations,
and does not deduce them from substance. On the other hand the negation
is present only as Nothing, for in the absolute there is no mode; the
negative is not there, but only its dissolution, its return: we do not
find its movement, its Becoming and Being. The negative is conceived
altogether as a vanishing moment—not in itself, but only as individual
self-consciousness; it is not like the _Separator_ we met with in
Boehme’s system (_supra_, p. 206). Self-consciousness is born from this
ocean, dripping with the water thereof, _i.e._ never coming to absolute
self-hood; the heart, the independence is transfixed—the vital fire is
wanting. This lack has to be supplied, the moment of self-consciousness
has to be added. It has the following two special aspects, which we
now perceive emerging and gaining acceptance; in the first place the
objective aspect, that absolute essence obtains in self-consciousness
the mode of an object of consciousness for which the “other” exists, or
the existent as such, and that what Spinoza understood by the “modes” is
elevated to objective reality as an absolute moment of the absolute; in
the second place we have the aspect of self-consciousness, individuality,
independence. As was formerly the case with respect to Bacon and Boehme,
the former aspect is here taken up by the Englishman, John Locke, the
latter by the German Leibnitz; in the first case it did not appear
as a moment, nor did it in the second appear as absolute Notion. Now
while Spinoza only takes notice of these ordinary conceptions, and the
highest point of view he reaches in regard to them is that they sink
and disappear in the one Substance, Locke on the contrary examines the
genesis of these conceptions, while Leibnitz opposes to Spinoza the
infinite multiplicity of individuals, although all these monads have one
monad as the basis of their Being. Both Locke and Leibnitz therefore came
forward as opponents of the above-mentioned one-sidedness of Spinoza.
3. MALEBRANCHE.
The philosophy of Malebranche is in point of matter entirely identical
with that of Spinoza, but it has another, a more religious and more
theological form; on account of this form it never encountered the
opposition met with by Spinoza, and for the same reason Malebranche has
never been reproached with Atheism.
Nicholas Malebranche was born at Paris in 1638. He was sickly and
deformed in body, and was hence brought up with great care. He was
diffident and loved solitude; in his twenty-second year he entered the
_congrégation de l’oratoire_, a sort of spiritual order, and devoted
himself to the sciences. In passing a bookseller’s shop he happened
accidentally to see Descartes’ work _De homine_; he read it, and it
interested him greatly—so much so that the reading of it brought on
severe palpitation and he was forced to cease. This decided his future
life; there awoke in him an irrepressible inclination for Philosophy. He
was a man of most noble and gentle character, and of the most genuine and
unswerving piety. He died at Paris in 1715, and in the seventy-seventh
year of his age.[210] His principal work bears the title: _De la
recherche de la vérité_. One part of it is entirely metaphysical, but the
greater part is altogether empirical. For instance, Malebranche in the
first three books treats logically and psychologically of the errors in
sight and hearing, in the imagination and understanding.
a. What is most important in this book is his idea of the origin of our
knowledge. He says: “The essence of the soul is in thought, just as that
of matter is in extension. All else, such as sensation, imagination and
will, are modifications of thought”. He thus begins with two sides,
between which he sets an absolute chasm, and then he follows out in
detail the Cartesian idea of the assistance of God in knowledge. His main
point is that “the soul cannot attain to its conceptions and notions
from external things.” For when I and the thing are clearly independent
of one another and have nothing in common, the two can certainly not
enter into relation with one another nor be for one another. “Bodies are
impenetrable; their images would destroy one another on the way to the
organs.” But further: “The soul cannot beget ideas from itself, nor can
they be inborn,” for as “Augustine has said, ‘Say not that ye yourselves
are your own light.’” But how then comes extension, the manifold, into
the simple, into the spirit, since it is the reverse of the simple,
namely the diverse? This question regarding the association of thought
and extension is always an important one in Philosophy. According to
Malebranche the answer is, “That we see all things in God.” God Himself
is the connection between us and them, and thus the unity between the
thing and thought. “God has in Him the ideas of all things because He has
created all; God is through His omnipresence united in the most intimate
way with spirits. God thus is the place of spirits,” the Universal
of spirit, “just as space” is the universal, “the place of bodies.
Consequently the soul knows in God what is in Him,” bodies, “inasmuch
as He sets forth” (inwardly conceives) “created existence, because all
this is spiritual, intellectual, and present to the soul.”[211] Because
things and God are intellectual and we too are intellectual, we perceive
them in God as they are, so to speak, intellectual in Him. If this be
further analyzed it in no way differs from Spinozism. Malebranche indeed
in a popular way allows soul and things to subsist as independent,
but this independence vanishes away like smoke when the principle is
firmly grasped. The catechism says: “God is omnipresent,” and if this
omnipresence be developed Spinozism is arrived at; and yet theologians
then proceed to speak against the system of identity, and cry out about
Pantheism.
b. We must further remark that Malebranche also makes the universal,
thought, the essential, by placing it before the particular. “The soul
has the Notion of the infinite and universal: it knows nothing excepting
through the Idea which it has of the infinite; this Idea must hence come
first. The universal is not a mere confusion of individual ideas, it is
not a union of individual things.” According to Locke the individual from
which the universal is formed precedes (_infra_, p. 299); according to
Malebranche the universal Idea is what comes first in man. “If we wish
to think of anything particular we think first of the universal;” it is
the principle of the particular, as space is of things. All essentiality
precedes our particular conceptions, and this essentiality comes
first. “All essential existences (_essences_) come before our ordinary
conception; they cannot be such excepting by God’s presence in the mind
and spirit. He it is who contains all things in the simplicity of His
nature. It seems evident that mind would not be capable of representing
to itself the universal Notions of species, kind, and suchlike, if it
did not see all things comprehended in one.” The universal is thus in and
for itself, and it does not take its rise through the particular. “Since
each existent thing is an individual, we cannot say that we see something
actually created when, for example, we see a triangle in general,” for
we see it through God. “No account can be given of how spirit knows
abstract and common truths, excepting through the presence of Him who can
enlighten spirit in an infinite way,” because He is in and for Himself
the universal. “We have a clear idea of God,” of the universal: “We can
have such only through union with Him, for this idea is not a created
one,” but is in and for itself. As with Spinoza, the one universal is
God, and in so far as it is determined, it is the particular; we see
this particular only in the universal, as we see bodies in space. “We
already have a conception of infinite Being, inasmuch as we have a
conception of Being without regard to whether it is finite or infinite.
To know a finite we must limit the infinite; and this last must thus
precede. Thus spirit perceives all in the infinite; this is so far
from being a confused conception of many particular things that all
particular conceptions are merely participations in the universal Idea
of infinitude—in the same way that God does not receive this Being from”
finite “creatures, but,” on the contrary, “all creatures only subsist
through Him.”[212]
c. As regards the turning of the soul to God, Malebranche says what
Spinoza said from his ethical point of view: “It is impossible that God
should have an end other than Himself (the Holy Scriptures place this
beyond doubt);” the will of God can only have the good, what is without
doubt universal as its end. “Hence not only is it essential that our
natural love, _i.e._ the emotion which He brings forth in our spirit,
should strive after Him”—“the will is really love towards God”—“but
it is likewise impossible that the knowledge and the light which He
gives to our spirit should make anything else known than what is in
Him,” for thought only exists in unity with God. “If God were to make
a spirit and give it the sun as an idea or as the immediate object of
its knowledge, God would have made this spirit and the idea of this
spirit for the sun and not for Himself.” All natural love, and still
more knowledge, and the desire after truth, have God as their end. “All
motions of the will as regards the creatures are only determinations of
motion as regards the creator.” Malebranche quotes from Augustine “that
we see God even from the time we first enter upon this life (_dès cette
vie_), through the knowledge that we have of eternal truths. The truth
is uncreated, unchangeable, immeasurable, eternal above all things; it
is true through itself, and has its perfection from no thing. It makes
the creator more perfect, and all spirits naturally seek to know it:
now there is nothing that has these perfections but God, and thus the
truth is God. We perceive these unchangeable and eternal truths, hence
we see God.” “God indeed sees but He does not feel sensuous things. If
we see something sensuous, sensation and pure thought are to be found
in our consciousness. Sensation is a modification of our spirit; God
occasions this because He knows that our soul is capable of it. The Idea
which is bound up with the sensation is in God; we see it, etc. This
relation, this union of our mind and spirit with the Word (_Verbe_) of
God, and of our will with His love, is that we are formed after the
image of God and in His likeness.”[213] Thus the love of God consists in
relating one’s affections to the Idea of God; whoever knows himself and
thinks his affections clearly, loves God. We further find sundry empty
litanies concerning God, a catechism for children of eight years of age
respecting goodness, justice, omnipresence, the moral order of the world;
in all their lifetime theologians do not get any further.
We have given the principal of Malebranche’s ideas; the remainder of his
philosophy is composed partly of formal logic, and partly of empirical
psychology. He passes to the treatment of errors, how they arise, how
the senses, the imagination, the understanding, deceive us, and how we
must conduct ourselves in order to effect a remedy. Then Malebranche goes
on (T. III. L. VI. P. I. chap. i. pp. 1-3) to the rules and laws for
recognizing the truth. Thus here the term Philosophy was even applied
to the manner in which reflections on particular objects are drawn from
formal logic and external facts.
B. SECOND DIVISION.
It was Locke who became the instrument of setting forth this entire
manner of thinking in a systematic way, for he worked out Bacon’s
position more fully. And if Bacon made sensuous Being to be the truth,
Locke demonstrated the universal, Thought, to be present in sensuous
Being, or showed that we obtained the universal, the true, from
experience. From Locke a wide culture proceeds, influencing English
philosophers more especially; the forms adopted by this school were
various, but the principle was the same; it became a general method of
regarding things in a popular way, and calls itself Philosophy, although
the object of Philosophy is not to be met with here.
1. LOCKE.
When experience means that the Notion has objective actuality for
consciousness, it is indeed a necessary element in the totality; but
as this reflection appears in Locke, signifying as it does that we
obtain truth by abstraction from experience and sensuous perception,
it is utterly false, since, instead of being a moment, it is made the
essence of the truth. It is no doubt true that against the hypothesis
of the inward immediacy of the Idea, and against the method of setting
it forth in definitions and axioms, as also against absolute substance,
the demand that ideas should be represented as results, and the claims
of individuality and self-consciousness, assert their rights to
recognition. In the philosophy of Locke and Leibnitz, however, these
necessities make themselves known in an imperfect manner only; the one
fact which is common to both philosophers is that they, in opposition to
Spinoza and Malebranche, take for their principle the particular, finite
determinateness and the individual. According to Spinoza and Malebranche
substance or the universal is the true, the sole existent, the eternal,
that which is in and for itself, without origin, and of which particular
things are only modifications which are conceived through substance. But
hereby Spinoza has done an injury to this negative; he hence arrived at
no immanent determination, for all that is determined and individual
is merely annihilated in his system. Now, on the contrary, the general
inclination of consciousness is to maintain the difference, partly
in order to mark itself out as implicitly free in opposition to its
object—Being, nature, and God, and partly in order to recognize the unity
in this opposition, and from the opposition itself to make the unity
emerge. But those who were the instruments of this tendency comprehended
themselves but little, they had still no clear consciousness of their
task, nor of the manner in which their claims could be satisfied. With
Locke, this principle makes its first entrance into Philosophy in a
manner so completely at variance with the inflexible undifferentiated
identity of the substance of Spinoza, that the sensuous and limited, the
immediate present and existent, is the main and fundamental matter. Locke
does not get beyond the ordinary point of view of consciousness, viz.
that objects outside of us are the real and the true. The finite is thus
not grasped by Locke as absolute negativity, _i.e._ in its infinitude;
this we shall not find until we come to deal in the third place with
Leibnitz. It is in a higher sense that Leibnitz asserts individuality,
the differentiated, to be self-existent and indeed objectless, to be
true Being. That is to say, it is not according to him finite, but is
yet distinguished; thus, each monad is itself the totality. Leibnitz
and Locke hence likewise stand in a position of mutual independence and
antagonism.
John Locke was born in 1632, at Wrington, in England. He studied for
himself the Cartesian philosophy at Oxford, setting aside the scholastic
philosophy which was still in vogue. He devoted himself to the study of
medicine, which, however, on account of his delicate health, he never
really practised. In 1664 he went with an English ambassador for a year
to Berlin. After his return to England, he became acquainted with the
intellectual Earl of Shaftesbury of that time, who availed himself of his
medical advice, and in whose house he lived without requiring to give
himself up to practice. When Lord Shaftesbury became Lord Chancellor
of England, Locke received an office from him, which, however, he soon
lost by a change of ministry. Owing to his dread of falling a prey to
consumption, he betook himself in 1675 to Montpellier for the benefit of
his health. When his patron came into power again he once more recovered
the place he had lost, only to be again deposed on a fresh overthrow of
this minister, and he was now compelled to flee from England. “The act by
means of which Locke was driven from Oxford” (what post he held there we
are not told) “was not an enactment of the University, but of James II.,
by whose express command, and by the peremptory authority of a written
warrant, the expulsion was carried out. From the correspondence that took
place, it is evident that the college submitted itself against its will
to a measure which it could not resist without compromising the peace
and quiet of its members.” Locke went to Holland, which was at that time
the land wherein all who were obliged to effect their escape from any
oppression, whether political or religious, found protection, and in
which the most famous and liberal-minded men were to be met with. The
Court party persecuted him even here, and by royal warrant he was ordered
to be taken prisoner and sent to England; consequently he had to remain
hidden with his friends. When William of Orange ascended the English
throne, after the Revolution of 1688, Locke returned with him to England.
He was there made Commissioner of Trade and Plantations, gave to the
world his famous treatise on the Human Understanding, and finally, having
withdrawn from public office on account of the delicacy of his health,
he spent his remaining years in the country houses of English nobles; he
died on the 28th day of October, 1704, in the seventy-third year of his
life.[214]
The philosophy of Locke is much esteemed; it is still, for the most part,
the philosophy of the English and the French, and likewise in a certain
sense of the Germans. To put it in a few words, it asserts on the one
hand that truth and knowledge rest upon experience and observation; and
on the other the analysis of and abstraction from general determinations
is prescribed as the method of knowledge; it is, so to speak, a
metaphysical empiricism, and this is the ordinary method adopted in the
sciences. In respect of method, Locke thus employs an exactly opposite
system to that of Spinoza. In the methods of Spinoza and Descartes an
account of the origin of ideas may be dispensed with; they are accepted
at once as definitions, such as those of substance, the infinite, mode,
extension, etc., all of which constitute a quite incoherent list. But we
require to show where these thoughts come in, on what they are founded,
and how they are verified. Thus Locke has striven to satisfy a true
necessity. For he has the merit of having deserted the system of mere
definitions, which were before this made the starting point, and of
having attempted to make deduction of general conceptions, inasmuch as
he was, for example, at the pains to show how substantiality arises
subjectively from objects. That is a further step than any reached
by Spinoza, who begins at once with definitions and axioms which are
unverified. Now they are derived, and no longer oracularly laid down,
even if the method and manner whereby this authentication is established
is not the right one. That is to say, here the matter in question is
merely subjective, and somewhat psychological, since Locke merely
describes the methods of mind as it appears to us to be. For in his
philosophy we have more especially to deal with the derivation of the
general conceptions, or ideas, as he called them, that are present in our
knowledge, and with their origin as they proceed from what is outwardly
and inwardly perceptible. Malebranche no doubt likewise asks how we
arrive at conceptions, and thus he apparently has before him the same
subject of investigation as has Locke. But firstly, this psychological
element in Malebranche is merely the later development, and then to him
the universal or God is plainly first, while Locke commences at once with
individual perceptions, and only from them does he proceed to Notions,
to God. The universal to Locke is, therefore, merely a later result,
the work of our minds; it is simply something pertaining to thought,
as subjective. Every man undoubtedly knows that when his consciousness
develops empirically, he commences from feelings, from quite concrete
conditions, and that it is only later on that general conceptions come
in, which are connected with the concrete of sensation by being contained
therein. Space, for example, comes to consciousness later than the
spacial, the species later than the individual; and it is only through
the activity of my consciousness that the universal is separated from
the particular of conception, feeling, etc. Feeling undoubtedly comes
lowest, it is the animal mode of spirit; but in its capacity as thinking,
spirit endeavours to transform feeling into its own form. Thus the course
adopted by Locke is quite a correct one, but all dialectic considerations
are utterly and entirely set aside, since the universal is merely
analyzed from the empirical concrete. And in this matter Kant reproaches
Locke with reason, the individual is not the source of universal
conceptions, but the understanding.
As to Locke’s further reflections, they are very simple. Locke considers
how the understanding is only consciousness, and in being so is something
in consciousness, and he only recognizes the implicit in as far as it is
in the same.
a. Locke’s philosophy is more especially directed against Descartes,
who, like Plato, had spoken of innate ideas. Locke likewise makes
special examination of the “inborn impressions (_notiones communes in
foro interiori descriptæ_)” which Lord Herbert assumes in his work _De
veritate_. In the first book of his work Locke combats the so-called
innate ideas, theoretic as well as practical, _i.e._ the universal,
absolutely existent ideas which at the same time are represented as
pertaining to mind in a natural way. Locke said that we arrive first
at _that_ which we call idea. By this he understands not the essential
determinations of man, but conceptions which we have and which are
present and exist in consciousness as such: in the same way we all have
arms and legs as parts of our bodies, and the desire to eat exists in
everyone. In Locke we thus have the conception of the soul as of a
contentless _tabula rasa_ which is by-and-by filled with what we call
experience.[215] The expression “innate principles” was at that time
common, and these innate principles have sometimes been foolishly spoken
of. But their true signification is that they are implicit, that they are
essential moments in the nature of thought, qualities of a germ, which do
not yet exist: only in relation to this last there is an element of truth
in Locke’s conclusions. As diverse conceptions essentially determined
they are only legitimatized by its being shown that they are implied in
the essential nature of thought; but as propositions which hold good as
axioms, and conceptions which are immediately accepted as laid down in
definitions, they undoubtedly possess the form of that which is present
and inborn. As they are regarded they are bound to have value in and for
themselves; but this is a mere assertion. From the other point of view
the question of whence they come is a futile one. Mind is undoubtedly
determined in itself, for it is the explicitly existent Notion; its
development signifies the coming to consciousness. But the determinations
which it brings forth from itself cannot be called innate, for this
development must be occasioned by an external, and only on that does the
activity of mind react, in order that it may for the first time become
conscious of its reality.
The grounds on which Locke refutes innate ideas are empirical. “There
is nothing more commonly taken for granted than that there are certain
principles, both speculative and practical, universally agreed upon
by all mankind: which therefore, they argue, must needs be constant
impressions which the souls of men receive in their first Beings.”
But this universal consent is not to be found. We may instance the
proposition, “Whatsoever is, is; and It is impossible for the same thing
to be and not to be; which of all others I think have the most allowed
title to innate.” But this proposition does not hold good for the Notion;
there is nothing either in heaven or earth which does not contain Being
and non-Being. Many men, “All children and idiots,” says Locke, “have
not the least apprehension of these propositions.” “No proposition can
be said to be in the mind which it never yet knew, which it was never
yet conscious of.... ’Tis usually answered, That all men know and assent
to them” (the propositions) “when they come to the use of reason....
If it be meant that the use of reason assists us in the knowledge of
these maxims, it would prove them not to be innate.” Reason is said to
be the deriving from principles already known unknown truths. How then
should the application of reason be required to discover supposed innate
principles? This is a weak objection, for it assumes that by innate ideas
we understand those which man possesses in consciousness as immediately
present. But development in consciousness is something altogether
different from any inherent determination of reason, and therefore the
expression innate idea is undoubtedly quite wrong. Innate principles
must be found “clearest and most perspicuous nearest the fountain, in
children and illiterate people, who have received least impression from
foreign opinion.” Locke gives further reasons of a similar nature, more
especially employing those which are of a practical kind—the diversity in
moral judgments, the case of those who are utterly wicked and depraved,
devoid of sense of right or conscience.[216]
b. In the second book Locke goes on to the next stage, to the origin of
ideas, and seeks to demonstrate this process from experience—this is
the main object of his efforts. The reason that the positive point of
view which he opposes to any derivation from within, is so false, is
that he derives his conceptions only from outside and thus maintains
Being-for-another, while he quite neglects the implicit. He says:
“Every man being conscious to himself, that he thinks; and that which
his mind is applied about, while thinking, being the ideas that are
there; ’tis past doubt, that men have in their minds several ideas,
such as those expressed in the words, whiteness, hardness, sweetness,
thinking, motion, man, elephant, army, drunkenness, and others.” Idea
here signifies both the ordinary conception and thought; we understand
something quite different by the word idea. “It is in the first place
then to be inquired, how he comes by them” (these ideas)? Innate ideas
have already been refuted. “Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we
say, white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas; how comes it
to be furnished?... To this I answer in a word, from Experience: in that
all our knowledge is founded.”[217]
As to the question in point we must in the first place say that it is
true that man commences with experience if he desires to arrive at
thought. Everything is experienced, not merely what is sensuous, but
also what excites and stimulates my mind. Consciousness thus undoubtedly
obtains all conceptions and Notions from experience and in experience;
the only question is what we understand by experience. In a usual way
when this is spoken of the idea of nothing particular is conveyed; we
speak of it as of something quite well known. But experience is nothing
more than the form of objectivity; to say that it is something which is
in consciousness means that it has objective form for consciousness or
that consciousness experiences it, it sees it as an objective. Experience
thus signifies immediate knowledge, perception, _i.e._ I myself must
have and be something, and the consciousness of what I have and am is
experience. Now there is no question as to this, that whatever we know,
of whatever kind it may be, must be experienced, that rests in the
conception of the thing. It is absurd to say that one knows anything
which is not in experience. I undoubtedly know men, for instance, from
experience, without requiring to have seen them all, for I have, as man,
activity and will, a consciousness respecting what I am and what others
are. The rational exists, _i.e._ it is as an existent for consciousness,
or this last experiences it; it must be seen and heard, it must be there
or have been there as a phenomenon in the world. This connection of
universal with objective is however in the second place not the only
form, that of the implicit is likewise absolute and essential—that
is, the apprehension of what is experienced or the abrogation of this
apparent other-being and the knowledge of the necessity of the thing
through itself. It is now quite a matter of indifference whether anything
is accepted as something experienced, as a succession of empirical
ideas, if one may so say, or conceptions; or whether the succession is a
succession of thoughts, _i.e._ implicitly existent.
Locke treats of the various kinds of these ideas imperfectly and
empirically merely.
α. According to Locke simple ideas arise partly from outward, and partly
from inward experience. For experiences, he says, are in the first place
sensations; the other side is reflection, the inward determinations
of consciousness.[218] From sensation, from the organs of sight for
instance, the conceptions of colour, light, etc., arise; there further
arises from outward experience the idea of impenetrability, of figure,
rest, motion and such like. From reflections come the ideas of faith,
doubt, judgment, reasoning, thinking, willing, etc.; from both combined,
pleasure, pain, etc. This is a very commonplace account of the matter.
β. After Locke has presupposed experience, he goes on to say that it
is the understanding which now discovers and desires the universal—the
complex ideas. The Bishop of Worcester made the objection that “If
the idea of substance be grounded upon plain and evident reason, then
we must allow an idea of substance which comes not in by sensation or
reflection.” Locke replies: “General ideas come not into the mind
by sensation or reflection, but are the creatures or inventions of
the understanding. The mind makes them from ideas which it has got by
sensation and reflection.” The work of the mind now consists in bringing
forth from several simple so-called ideas a number of new ones, by means
of its working upon this material through comparing, distinguishing and
contrasting it, and finally through separation or abstraction, whereby
the universal conceptions, such as space, time, existence, unity and
diversity, capacity, cause and effect, freedom, necessity, take their
rise. “The mind in respect of its simple ideas is wholly passive, and
receives them all from the existence and operation of things, such as
sensation or reflection offers them, without being able to make any one
idea.” But “the mind often exercises an active power in making these
several combinations. For it being once furnished with simple ideas
it can put them together in several combinations.” According to Locke
therefore thought itself is not the essence of the soul, but one of
its powers and manifestations. He maintains thought to be existent in
consciousness as conscious thought, and thus brings it forward as a fact
in his experience, that we do not always think. Experience demonstrates
dreamless sleep when the sleep is profound. Locke quotes the example of a
man who remembered no dream until he had reached his twenty-fifth year.
It is as in the Xenien,—[219]
Oft schon war ich, und hab’ wirklich an gar nichts gedacht.
That is to say, my object is not a thought. But sensuous perception and
recollection are thought, and thought is truth.[220] Locke, however,
places the reality of the understanding only in the formal activity of
constituting new determinations from the simple conceptions received
by means of perception, through their comparison and the combination
of several into one; it is the apprehension of the abstract sensations
which are contained in the objects. Locke likewise distinguishes (Bk. II.
chap. xi. § 15-17) between pure and mixed modes. Pure modes are simple
determinations such as power, number, infinitude; in such expressions as
causality we reach, on the other hand, a mixed mode.
Locke now explains in detail the manner in which the mind, from the
simple ideas of experience, reaches more complex ideas; but this
derivation of general determinations from concrete perception is most
unmeaning, trivial, tiresome and diffuse; it is entirely formal, an empty
tautology. For instance we form the general conception of space from the
perception of the distance of bodies by means of sight and feeling.[221]
Or in other words, we perceive a definite space, abstract from it,
and then we have the conception of space generally; the perception of
distances gives us conceptions of space. This however is no deduction,
but only a setting aside of other determinations; since distance itself
is really space, mind thus determines space from space. Similarly we
reach the notion of time through the unbroken succession of conceptions
during our waking moments,[222] _i.e._ from determinate time we
perceive time in general. Conceptions follow one another in a continual
succession; if we set aside the particular element that is present we
thereby receive the conception of time. Substance (which Locke does not
accept in so lofty a sense as Spinoza), a complex idea, hence arises
from the fact that we often perceive simple ideas such as blue, heavy,
etc., in association with one another. This association we represent to
ourselves as something which so to speak supports these simple ideas, or
in which they exist.[223] Locke likewise deduces the general conception
of power.[224] The determinations of freedom and necessity, cause and
effect, are then derived in a similar way. “In the notice that our senses
take of the constant vicissitude of things, we cannot but observe, that
several particulars, both qualities and substance, begin to exist; and
that they receive this their existence from the due application and
operation of some other being. From this observation we get our ideas
of cause and effect,” for instance when wax is melted by the fire.[225]
Locke goes on to say: “Every one, I think, finds in himself a power to
begin or forbear, continue or put an end to several actions in himself.
From the consideration of the extent of this power of the mind over the
actions of the man, which every one finds in himself, arise the ideas of
liberty and necessity.”[226]
We may say that nothing can be more superficial than this derivation of
ideas. The matter itself, the essence, is not touched upon at all. A
determination is brought into notice which is contained in a concrete
relationship; hence the understanding on the one hand abstracts and
on the other establishes conclusions. The basis of this philosophy is
merely to be found in the transference of the determinate to the form
of universality, but it was just this fundamental essence that we had
to explain. As to this Locke confesses of space, for example, that he
does not know what it really is.[227] This so-called analysis by Locke
of complex conceptions, and his so-called explanation of the same, has,
on account of its uncommon clearness and lucidity of expression, found
universal acceptance. For what can be clearer than to say that we have
the notion of time because we perceive time, if we do not actually see
it, and that we conceive of space because we see it? The French have
accepted this most readily and they have carried it further still; their
_Idéologie_ contains nothing more nor less.
γ. When Locke starts by saying that everything is experience and we
abstract for ourselves from this experience general conceptions regarding
objects and their qualities, he makes a distinction in respect of
external qualities which was before this made by Aristotle (De anima,
II. 6), and which we likewise met with in Descartes (_supra_, pp. 245,
246). That is to say, Locke distinguishes between primary and secondary
qualities; the first pertain to the objects themselves in truth, the
others are not real qualities, but are founded on the nature of the
organs of sensation. Primary qualities are mechanical, like extension,
solidity, figure, movement, rest; these are qualities of the corporeal,
just as thought is the quality of the spiritual. But the determinations
of our individual feelings such as colours, sounds, smells, taste, etc.,
are not primary.[228] In Descartes’ case this distinction has however
another form, for the second class of these determinations is defined
by him in such a way as that they do not constitute the essence of
body, while Locke says that they exist for sensation, or fall within
existence as it is for consciousness. Locke, however, no doubt reckons
figure, etc., as still pertaining to reality, but by so doing nothing is
ascertained as to the nature of body. In Locke a difference here appears
between the implicit and being ‘for-another,’ in which he declares the
moment of ‘for-another’ to be unreal—and yet he sees all truth in the
relation of ‘for-another’ only.
c. Since the universal as such, the idea of species, is, according to
Locke, merely a product of our mind, which is not itself objective, but
relates merely to objects which are germane to it, and from which the
particular of qualities, conditions, time, place, etc., are separated,
Locke distinguishes essences into real essences and nominal essences;
the former of these express the true essence of things, while species
on the other hand are mere nominal essences which no doubt express
something which is present in the objects, but which do not exhaust these
objects. They serve to distinguish species for our knowledge, but the
real essence of nature we do not know.[229] Locke gives good reasons
for species being nothing in themselves—for their not being in nature,
or absolutely determined—instancing in exemplification the production
of monstrosities (Bk. III. chap. iii. § 17): were species absolute no
monster would be born. But he overlooks the fact that since it pertains
to species to exist, it thereby likewise enters into relationship with
other determinations; thus that is the sphere in which individual things
operate upon one another, and may hence be detrimental to the existence
of the species. Locke thus argues just as one would who wished to prove
that the good does not exist in itself, because there are likewise evil
men, that the circle does not exist absolutely in nature, because the
circumference of a tree, for example, represents a very irregular circle,
or because I draw a circle badly. Nature just signifies the lack of
power to be perfectly adequate to the Notion; it is only in spirit that
the Notion has its true existence. To say that species are nothing in
themselves, that the universal is not the essential reality of nature,
that its implicit existence is not the object of thought, is tantamount
to saying that we do not know real existence: it is the same litany which
has since been so constantly repeated that we are tired of listening to
it:
Das Innere der Natur kennt kein erschaffener Geist,
and which goes on until we have perceived that Being-for-another,
perception, is not implicit; a point of view which has not made its way
to the positive position that the implicit is the universal. Locke is far
back in the nature of knowledge, further back than Plato, because of his
insistence on Being-for-another.
It is further noteworthy that from the sound understanding Locke argues
(Vol. III. Bk. IV. chap. vii. § 8-11) against universal propositions
or axioms such as that A = A, _i.e._ if anything is A it cannot be B.
He says they are superfluous, of very little use or of no use at all,
for nobody yet has built up a science on a proposition which asserts a
contradiction. From such the true may be proved as easily as the false;
they are tautological. What Locke has further achieved in respect of
education, toleration, natural rights or universal state-right, does not
concern us here, but has to do with general culture.
This is the philosophy of Locke, in which there is no trace of
speculation. The great end of Philosophy, which is to know the truth,
is in it sought to be attained in an empiric way; it thus indeed serves
to draw attention to general determinations. But such a philosophy not
only represents the standpoint of ordinary consciousness, to which all
the determinations of its thought appear as if given, humble as it is
in the oblivion of its activity, but in this method of derivation and
psychological origination that which alone concerns Philosophy, the
question of whether these thoughts and relationships have truth in and
for themselves, is not present at all, inasmuch as the only object aimed
at is to describe the manner in which thought accepts what is given to
it. It may be held with Wolff that it is arbitrary to begin with concrete
conceptions, as when our conception of identity is made to take its
origin from such things as blue flowers and the blue heavens. One can
better begin directly from universal conceptions and say that we find
in our consciousness the conceptions of time, cause and effect; these
are the later facts of consciousness. This method forms the basis of
the Wolffian system of reasoning, only here we must still distinguish
amongst the different conceptions those that are to be regarded as most
essential; in Locke’s philosophy, this distinction cannot really be said
to come under consideration. From this time, according to Locke, or in
this particular aspect of Philosophy, there is a complete and entire
change in the point of view adopted; the whole interest is limited to the
form in which the objective, or individual sensations, pass into the form
of conceptions. In the case of Spinoza and Malebranche, we undoubtedly
likewise saw that it was made a matter of importance to recognize this
relation of thought to what is sensuously perceived, and thus to know it
as falling into relation, as passing into the relative; the main question
hence was: How are the two related? But the question was answered to the
effect that it is only this relation for itself that constitutes the
point of interest, and this relation itself as absolute substance is thus
identity, the true, God, it is not the related parts. The interest does
not lie in the related parts; the related parts as one-sided are not the
existent, presupposed and permanently established, they are accidental
merely. But here the related sides, the things and the subject, have
their proper value, and they are presupposed as having this value.
Locke’s reasoning is quite shallow; it keeps entirely to the phenomenal,
to that which is, and not to that which is true.
There is another question however: Are these general determinations
absolutely true? And whence come they not alone into my consciousness,
into my mind and understanding, but into the things themselves? Space,
cause, effect, etc., are categories. How do these categories come into
the particular? How does universal space arrive at determining itself?
This point of view, the question whether these determinations of the
infinite, of substance, etc., are in and for themselves true, is quite
lost sight of. Plato investigated the infinite and the finite, Being and
the determinate, etc., and pronounced that neither of these opposites is
of itself true; they are so only as together constituting an identity,
wherever the truth of this content may come from. But here the truth
as it is in and for itself is entirely set aside and the nature of the
content itself is made the main point. It does not matter whether the
understanding or experience is its source, for the question is whether
this content is in itself true. With Locke, the truth merely signifies
the harmony of our conceptions with things; here relation is alone in
question, whether the content is an objective thing or a content of
the ordinary conception. But it is quite another matter to investigate
the content itself, and to ask, “Is this which is within us true?” We
must not dispute about the sources, for the Whence, the only important
point to Locke, does not exhaust the whole question. The interest of the
content in and for itself wholly disappears when that position is taken
up, and thereby the whole of what is aimed at by Philosophy is given up.
On the other hand, when thought is from the beginning concrete, when
thought and the universal are synonymous with what is set before us, the
question of the relation of the two which have been separated by thought
is destitute of interest and incomprehensible. How does thought overcome
the difficulties which itself has begotten? Here with Locke none at all
have been begotten and awakened. Before the need for reconciliation can
be satisfied, the pain of disunion must be excited.