The philosophy of Locke is certainly very comprehensible, but for that

very reason it is likewise a popular philosophy to which the whole of

the English philosophy as it exists at this day is allied; it is the

thinking method of regarding things which is called philosophy carried

to its perfection, the form which was introduced into the science which

then took its rise in Europe. This is an important moment in culture;

the sciences in general and specially the empiric sciences have to

ascribe their origin to this movement. To the English, Philosophy has

ever signified the deduction of experiences from observations; this

has in a one-sided way been applied to physical and economic subjects.

General principles of political economy such as free-trade in the present

day, and all matters which rest on thinking experience, the knowledge of

whatever reveals itself in this sphere as necessary and useful, signifies

philosophy to the English (Vol. I. pp. 57, 58). The scholastic method

of starting from principles and definitions has been rejected. The

universal, laws, forces, universal matter, etc., have in natural science

been derived from perceptions; thus to the English, Newton is held to

be the philosopher κατ’ ἐξοχήν. The other side is that in practical

philosophy regarding society or the state, thought applies itself to

concrete objects such as the will of the prince, subjects and their ends

and personal welfare. Inasmuch as we have an object such as that before

us, the indwelling and essential universal is made evident; it must,

however, be made clear which conception is the one to which the others

must yield. It is in this way that rational politics took their rise in

England, because the institutions and government peculiar to the English

led them specially and in the first place to reflection upon their inward

political and economic relationships. Hobbes must be mentioned as an

exemplification of this fact. This manner of reasoning starts from the

present mind, from what is our own, whether it be within or without us,

since the feelings which we have, the experiences which fall directly

within us, are the principles. This philosophy of reasoning thought

is that which has now become universal, and through which the whole

revolution in the position taken up by mind has come to pass.

2. HUGO GROTIUS.

Hugo Grotius was studying the laws of nations at the same time as

Locke; and in him the very same methods may be found as those already

mentioned, inasmuch as he also falls into a quite empirical system

of associating nations with one another, combining with that an

empirical mode of reasoning. Hugo van Groot, born 1583 at Delft, was a

lawyer, fiscal general, and council pensionary; in 1619, however, he

was implicated in the Barneveldt trial, and was compelled to fly the

country. For a long time he remained in France, but in 1634 he entered

the service of Queen Christina of Sweden. In 1635 he was made Swedish

ambassador in Paris, and in 1645 he died at Rostock, while on a journey

from Stockholm to Holland.[230] His principal work, _De jure belli et

pacis_, he composed in 1625; now it is not read, but at one time it

exercised a very great and important influence. In it Grotius presented a

comparative historical account, the material of which was partly derived

from the Old Testament, of the manner in which nations in the various

relationships of war and peace have acted towards one another, and what

usages they held to be binding. The following may serve as an example of

his empirical method of reasoning: Prisoners ought not to be killed; for

the object is to disarm the enemy, and if this end be attained nothing

further should be done.[231] This empirical way of connecting facts had

the effect of bringing general comprehensible and rational principles

into consciousness, of making them recognized, and of causing them to be

more or less acceptable. Thus we see principles set forth, respecting

the righteousness of a king’s power for instance; for thought applied

itself to everything. We are unsatisfied by such proofs and deductions,

but we must not overlook what is thereby accomplished; and this is the

establishment of principles which have their ultimate confirmation in the

objects themselves, in mind and thought.

3. THOMAS HOBBES.

Hobbes, who was celebrated and distinguished on account of the

originality of his views, was tutor to the Earl of Devonshire; he was

born in 1588 at Malmesbury, and died in 1679.[232] As a contemporary

of Cromwell, he found in the events of that time, in the Revolution

which then took place in England, an occasion for reflecting on the

principles of state and law, and in fact he succeeded in making his way

to quite original conceptions. He wrote much, including a treatise on

Philosophy, entitled “The Elements of Philosophy.” The first section

(_Sectio_) of this work, _De corpore_, appeared in London in 1655; in it

he first of all treats of Logic (_Pars_ I.), and secondly of _philosophia

prima_ (_Pars_ II.); this last is an ontology and metaphysic. The

next sub-division (_Pars_ III.), “On the relation between motion and

magnitude,” is a system of mechanism, a quite popular system of physics;

and a study of the human organs. The second section was to treat of the

nature of man (_De homine_), and the third of the state (_De cive_), but

the intellectual sections of the work Hobbes did not entirely finish.

He says in his preface that Copernicus first opened up astronomy, and

Galileo physics, before them there was nothing certain in either science.

Harvey worked out the science of the human body, and physics generally

as well as astronomy were perfected by Keppler. All this was termed

Philosophy, in accordance with the point of view which has been already

given (p. 313), since in it the reflective understanding desires to know

the universal. Hobbes further says concerning the philosophy of the state

(_philosophia civilis_), that it only dates from the publication of his

book _De cive_.[233] This work, which appeared at Paris in 1642,[234]

is, like his Leviathan, a much decried book; the second mentioned writing

was forbidden to be circulated, and is hence very rare. Both works

contain sounder reflections on the nature of society and government than

many now in circulation. Society, the state, is to Hobbes absolutely

pre-eminent, it is the determining power without appeal as regards law

and positive religion and their external relations; and because he placed

these in subjection to the state, his doctrines were of course regarded

with the utmost horror. But there is nothing speculative or really

philosophic in them, and there is still less in Hugo Grotius.

Before this ideals were set before us, or Holy Scripture or positive law

was quoted as authoritative. Hobbes, on the contrary, sought to derive

the bond which holds the state together, that which gives the state

its power, from principles which lie within us, which we recognize as

our own. In this way two opposite principles arise. The first is the

passive obedience of subjects, the divine authority of rulers, whose

will is absolute law, and is itself elevated above all other law. All

this is represented in close connection with religion, and proved by

examples from the Old Testament, by such stories as those of Saul and

David. Criminal and marriage laws, too, for long derived their character

from the Mosaic laws, or, speaking generally, from those the provisions

of which possessed their value by the fact of being established by

express divine command. On the other hand we have in the second place

the reasoning wherein we ourselves are the determining agents, and which

was called sound reason. In the movement which Cromwell made use of

there was allied with this a fanaticism, which from the written letter

drew opposite conclusions to the above, and this we see exemplified in

the equality of property, for instance. Hobbes, it is true, likewise

maintained passive obedience, the absolute freedom of the royal will

and power; but at the same time he sought to derive the principles of

monarchical power, etc., from universal determinations. The views that

he adopts are shallow and empirical, but the reasons he gives for them,

and the propositions he makes respecting them, are original in character,

inasmuch as they are derived from natural necessities and wants.

Hobbes maintained that “The origin of all society is to be found in

the mutual fear of all its members;” it is hence a phenomenon in

consciousness. “Each association is thus formed in its own interest or

for its own renown, that is, from selfish motives.” All such matters as

security of life, property, and enjoyment, are not to be found outside

it. “But men have in all dissimilarity of strength a natural similarity

as well.” This Hobbes proves by a characteristic reason, viz. that “each

individual can make away with the other,” each is the ultimate power

over the others. “Each can be supreme.”[235] Thus their similarity is

not derived from the greatest strength; it is not, as in modern times,

founded on the freedom of the spirit, or on an equality of merit and

independence, but on the equal weakness of mankind; each man is weak as

regards others.

b. Hobbes further takes up the position that this natural condition is

of such a nature that all possess the desire to rule over one another.

“All in their natural condition are possessed of the will to injure

others,” to tyrannize over other men; each has thus to fear the other.

Hobbes looks at this condition in its true light, and we find in him

no idle talk about a state of natural goodness; the natural condition

is really far more like that of the animals—a condition in which there

is an unsubdued individual will. All thus wish to “secure themselves

against the pretensions of others, to acquire for themselves advantages

and superior rights. Opinions, religions, desires, arouse strife; the

stronger bears away the victory. The natural condition is consequently

a condition of mistrust on the part of all towards all; it is a war of

all against all (_bellum omnium in omnes_),” and the endeavour of one to

overreach another. The expression nature has a double significance: In

the first place the nature of man signifies his spiritual and rational

Being; but his natural condition indicates quite another condition,

wherein man conducts himself according to his natural impulses. In this

way he conducts himself in conformity with his desires and inclinations,

while the rational, on the contrary, is the obtaining supremacy over the

immediately natural. “In the condition of nature a certain irresistible

power grants the right to rule over those who cannot resist; it is absurd

to leave those whom we have in our power to become free and strong

again.” From this Hobbes draws the conclusion that “man must go forth

from the natural condition.”[236] This is true; the natural condition is

not what it should be, and must hence be cast off.

c. Hobbes finally passes to the laws of reason which preserve

tranquillity. This condition of law is the subjection of the natural,

particular will of the individual to the universal will, which, however,

is not that of all individuals, but is the will of the ruler; this is

consequently not responsible to individuals, but is directed against this

private will, and to it all must be obedient.[237] Thus the whole matter

is now placed on quite another footing. But because the universal will is

made to reside in the will of one monarch, there nevertheless proceeds

from this point of view, which is really correct, a condition of absolute

rule, of perfect despotism. The condition of law does not, however,

mean that the arbitrary will of one man constitutes absolute law, for

the universal will is no despotism, being rational, inasmuch as it is

consistently expressed and determined in laws.

Rixner (Handbuch der Geschichte der Philosophie, Vol. III. p. 30) says:

“Law to him is nothing but the sum of the conditions of peace extorted

by iron necessity from the original wickedness of mankind.” We might add

that in Hobbes we at least find this, that the nature and organism of the

State is established on the principle of human nature, human desire, &c.

The English concerned themselves greatly with that principle of passive

obedience, in accordance with which it is said that kings receive their

power from God. This, in one aspect, is quite true, but in another it is

falsely taken to mean that they have no responsibility, that their blind

desires, their merely subjective will, is what must be obeyed.

4. CUDWORTH, CLARKE, WOLLASTON.

Cudworth wished to revive Plato in England, but to do this after the

manner of the demonstrations which we met with in Descartes, and through

a trivial metaphysic of the understanding. He wrote a celebrated work:

“The true intellectual System of the Universe,” but the Platonic ideas

expressed are often in a clumsy form and mingled with the Christian

conceptions of God and angels—all regarded as particular existent things.

What in Plato is mythical, is here taken as reality in the form of

existence; this is reasoned about just as we reason respecting a matter

of ordinary fact, such as whether it is probable that the French seek to

effect a landing in England, and if so, whether they will successfully

accomplish it. The Christian intellectual world is dragged down to the

form of ordinary actuality, and consequently it is ruined.

The name of Clarke is likewise famous in connection with his proof

of the existence of God. There were quite a number of other English

philosophers, whom we do not, however, require to notice; for Clarke,

Wollaston, and others carry on their speculations within forms such

as belong to a very commonplace metaphysic of the understanding.

The manifold systems of moral philosophy which we find taking their

rise in England are drawn up from this same mental standpoint; in

them the implicitude of mind appears in a form of natural existence,

namely, of desires and feelings. Their principles are found in moral

sentiments, benevolent desires, sympathy, &c. That form alone is

worthy of notice which, on the one hand, represents duty as something

which is not foreign, given, commanded, but as clearly belonging to

self-consciousness, even while, on the other hand, it represents

this property as a natural, unconscious, unspiritual, and irrational

existence. Impulse is blind, a solid existence which cannot get beyond

itself like thinking self-consciousness. It is indeed true of impulse

that its pure activity or its process, and the content, are, as in

thought, immediately posited as the same; it has its content in itself,

and this is not dead and passive, but self-acting and impelling. But that

unity has the form of immediacy only as existent; in the first place

it is not a knowledge, it is not necessary, for it is only taken from

inward perception; in the second place, it is a determinate which does

not abrogate itself, beyond which we cannot get, and which thus is not a

universal. Impulse is no more an infinite than is the fixed category of

force. Such reasoning takes the impulses in their determinate character

from experience, and expresses the appearance of necessity in the same

as an inward existence, as a force. For instance, the social instinct is

a moment which is found in experience, because man derives all manner

of utility from society. Wherein does the necessity of the State, of

society, find its basis? In a social desire. This is cause, just as in

the physical world a formal interpretation such as this is always to

be found. The necessity of any existent fact, such as what pertains to

electrical phenomena, finds its basis in a force which brings it forth;

it is merely the form of returning from the external to an inward, of

passing from the existent to what is thought, which is again in turn

represented as an existent. Force is necessitated by reason of the

manifestation, we must argue from the latter to the former. On the other

hand, the manifestation takes place through the force, for it is the

cause of the manifestation; we hence have force in one place as reason,

and in another as cause. But in all this there is no realization of

the fact that in respect of form there is a transition from the Notion

into Being and the other way, while in respect of content there is a

perfect contingency of manifestation; we look at electricity in the same

way as we look at the fact that men have social instincts, sympathetic

inclinations, and so on.

5. PUFFENDORF.

In the struggle to give to just and equitable relations in the State

an independent basis of their own, and to found a judicial system of

government, reflective thought put forth its efforts; and this became to

it a real interest and concern. And, as in the case of Grotius, it was

also true of Puffendorf, that the instinct of mankind—that is, the social

instinct, &c.—was made the principle. Samuel von Puffendorf was born

in 1632 in Saxony; he studied public law, philosophy, and mathematics

at Leipzig and Jena; in 1661, as a professor at Heidelberg, he made

natural and civil law for the first time academic studies; in 1668 he

became tutor in a Swedish family, which office he later on exchanged

for the service of the House of Brandenburg, and in 1694 he died at

Berlin as a privy councillor. He wrote several works on political law

and history; we must specially mention his work, _De jure naturæ et

gentium_, Libr. viii., Londin. Scan. 1672, 4; and also his compendium _De

officio hominis_, published at the same place in 1673, 8, and _Elementa

jurisprudentiæ universalis_.[238] While the divine right of kings was

here still recognized—whereby they rendered account to God alone, or, at

all events, were still bound to take counsel of the Church—the impulses

and necessities present in mankind were now considered as well. These

were regarded as the inward principles for private and political law, and

from them the duties both of the government and of rulers were deduced,

so that the freedom of mankind might not be interfered with. The basis

of the state in Puffendorf’s view is the social instinct: the highest

end of the state is the peace and security of social life through the

transformation of inward duties as prescribed by conscience into external

duties as compelled by law.[239]

6. NEWTON.

The other side is that thought likewise applied itself to nature, and

in this connection Isaac Newton is famous by reason of his mathematical

discoveries and his work in physics. He was born in 1642 at Cambridge,

made a special study of mathematics, and became professor of the same at

Cambridge; later on he was made president of the Royal Society in London,

and he died in 1727.[240]

Newton was indisputably the chief contributor to the popularity of the

philosophy of Locke, or the English method of treating of Philosophy,

and more especially did he promote its application to all the physical

sciences. “Physics, beware of metaphysics,” was his maxim,[241] which

signifies, Science, beware of thought; and all the physical sciences,

even to the present day, have, following in his wake, faithfully

observed this precept, inasmuch as they have not entered upon an

investigation of their conceptions, or thought about thoughts. Physics

can, however, effect nothing without thought; it has its categories and

laws through thought alone, and without thought it does not effect any

progress. Newton was mainly instrumental in introducing to physics the

determinations respecting forces, which pertain to reflection; he raised

science to the standpoint of reflection, and set the laws of forces

in the place of the laws of phenomena. Regarding matters as he did,

Newton derived his conclusions from his experiences; and in physics and

the theory of colour-vision, he made bad observations and drew worse

conclusions. He passed from experiences to general points of view,

again made them fundamental, and from them constructed the individual;

this is how his theories are constructed. The observation of things,

the discovery of the law immanent therein, and the universal which is

found within them, has become the real point of interest. In this way,

Newton is so complete a barbarian as regards his conceptions that his

case is like that of another of his countrymen who was surprised and

rejoiced to learn that he had talked prose all his life, not having

had any idea that he was so accomplished. This Newton, like all the

Physicists, indeed, never learned; he did not know that he thought in,

and had to deal with Notions, while he imagined he was dealing with

physical facts: and he presented the extremest contrast to Boehme, who

handled sensuous things as Notions, and, by sheer force of mind, obtained

entire possession of their actuality and subjugated them. Instead of

this Newton treated Notions like sensuous things, and dealt with them

just as men deal with wood and stone. And this is even now the case. In

the beginnings of physical science we read of the power of inertia, for

instance, of the force of acceleration, of molecules, of centripetal and

centrifugal force, as of facts which definitely exist; what are really

the final results of reflection are represented as their first grounds.

If we ask for the cause of there being no advance made in such sciences,

we find that it is because men do not understand that they should

apply themselves to Notions, but make up their minds to adopt these

determinations without sense or understanding. Hence in Newton’s Optics,

for instance, there are conclusions derived from his experience which

are so untrue and devoid of understanding, that while they are set forth

as the finest example of how men can learn to know nature by means of

experiments and conclusions derived from experiments, they may also serve

as an example of how we should neither experiment nor draw conclusions,

of how nothing at all can be learned. A miserable kind of experience

like this itself contradicts itself through nature, for nature is more

excellent than it appears in this wretched experience: both nature itself

and experience, when carried a little further, contradict it. Hence,

of all the splendid discoveries of Newton in optics, none now remain

excepting one—the division of light into seven colours. This is partly

because the conception of whole and part come into play, and partly from

an obdurate closing of the eyes to the opposite side. From this empirical

method in Philosophy, we shall now pass on to Leibnitz.

C. THIRD SECTION.

The third development of the philosophy of the understanding is that

represented by Leibnitz and Wolff. If Wolff’s metaphysics is divested of

its rigid form, we have as a result the later popular philosophy.

1. LEIBNITZ.

As in other respects Leibnitz represents the extreme antithesis to

Newton, so in respect of philosophy he presents a striking contrast to

Locke and his empiricism, and also to Spinoza. He upholds thought as

against the perception of the English school, and in lieu of sensuous

Being he maintains Being for thought to be the essence of truth, just as

Boehme at an earlier time upheld implicit Being. While Spinoza asserted

the universality, the oneness of substance merely, and while with Locke

we saw infinite determinations made the basis, Leibnitz, by means of

his fundamental principle of individuality, brings out the essentiality

of the opposite aspect of Spinoza’s philosophy, existence for self, the

monad, but the monad regarded as the absolute Notion, though perhaps

not yet as the “I.” The opposed principles, which were forced asunder,

find their completion in each other, since Leibnitz’s principle of

individuation completed Spinoza’s system as far as outward aspect goes.

Gottfried Wilhelm, Baron von Leibnitz, was born in 1646 at Leipzig, where

his father was professor of Philosophy. The subject that he studied in

view of a profession was jurisprudence, but first, in accordance with the

fashion of the day, he made a study of Philosophy, and to it he devoted

particular attention. To begin with, he picked up in Leipzig a large

and miscellaneous stock of knowledge, then he studied Philosophy and

mathematics at Jena under the mathematician and theosophist Weigel, and

took his degree of Master of Philosophy in Leipzig. There also, on the

occasion of his graduation as Doctor of Philosophy, he defended certain

philosophical theses, some of which discourses are still contained in

his works (ed. Dutens, T. II. P. I. p. 400). His first dissertation, and

that for which he obtained the degree of doctor of philosophy, was: _De

principio individui_,—a principle which remained the abstract principle

of his whole philosophy, as opposed to that of Spinoza. After he had

acquired a thorough knowledge of the subject, he wished to graduate also

as Doctor of Laws. But though he died an imperial councillor, it was his

ill fortune to receive from the Faculty at Leipzig a refusal to confer

the doctorate upon him, his youth being the alleged reason. Such a thing

could scarcely happen now-a-days. It may be that it was done because of

his over-great philosophical attainments, seeing that lawyers are wont

to hold the same in horror. He now quitted Leipzig, and betook himself

to Altdorf, where he graduated with distinction. Shortly afterwards he

became acquainted in Nürnberg with a company of alchemists, with whose

ongoings he became associated. Here he made extracts from alchemistic

writings, and studied the mysteries of this occult science. His activity

in the pursuit of learning extended also to historical, diplomatic,

mathematical and philosophical subjects. He subsequently entered the

service of the Elector of Mayence, becoming a member of council, and in

1672 he was appointed tutor to a son of Von Boineburg, Chancellor of

State to the Elector. With this young man he travelled to Paris, where

he lived for four years. He at this time made the acquaintance of the

great mathematician Huygens, and was by him for the first time properly

introduced into the domain of mathematics. When the education of his

pupil was completed, and the Baron Von Boineburg died, Leibnitz went on

his own account to London, where he became acquainted with Newton and

other scholars, at whose head was Oldenburg, who was also on friendly

terms with Spinoza. After the death of the Elector of Mayence, the salary

of Leibnitz ceased to be paid; he therefore left England and returned to

France. The Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg then took him into his service,

and gave him the appointment of councillor and librarian at Hanover, with

permission to spend as much time as he liked in foreign countries. He

therefore remained for some time longer in France, England, and Holland.

In the year 1677 he settled down in Hanover, where he became busily

engaged in affairs of state, and was specially occupied with historical

matters. In the Harz Mountains he had works constructed for carrying

off the floods which did damage to the mines there. Notwithstanding

these manifold occupations he invented the differential calculus in

1677, on occasion of which there arose a dispute between him and Newton,

which was carried on by the latter and the Royal Society of London in

a most ungenerous manner. For it was asserted by the English, who gave

themselves the credit of everything, and were very unfair to others, that

the discovery was really made by Newton. But Newton’s _Principia_ only

appeared later, and in the first edition indeed Leibnitz was mentioned

with commendation in a note which was afterwards omitted. From his

headquarters in Hanover, Leibnitz, commissioned by his prince, made

several journeys through Germany, and also went to Italy in order to

collect historical evidence relative to the House of Este, and for the

purpose of proving more clearly the relationship between this princely

family and that of Brunswick-Lüneburg. At other times he was likewise

much occupied with historical questions. Owing to his acquaintance with

the consort of Frederick I. of Prussia, Sophia Charlotte, a Hanoverian

princess, he was enabled to bring about the foundation of an Academy of

Science in Berlin, in which city he lived for a considerable time. In

Vienna he also became acquainted with Prince Eugène, which occasioned his

being appointed finally an Imperial Councillor. He published several very

important historical works as the result of this journey. His death took

place at Hanover in 1716, when he was seventy years of age.[242]

It was not only on Philosophy, but also on the most varied branches of

science that Leibnitz expended toil and trouble and energy; it was to

mathematics, however, that he specially devoted his attention, and he is

the inventor of the methods of the integral and differential calculus.

His great services in regard to mathematics and physics we here leave out

of consideration, and pay attention to his philosophy alone. None of his

books can be exactly looked on as giving a complete systematic account of

his philosophy. To the more important among them belongs his work on the

human understanding (_Nouveaux essais sur l’entendement humain_) in reply

to Locke; but this is a mere refutation. His philosophy is therefore

scattered through various little treatises which were written in very

various connections, in letters, and replies to objections which caused

him to bring out one aspect of the question more strongly than another;

we consequently find no elaborated systematic whole, superintended or

perfected by him. The work which has some appearance of being such, his

_Théodicée_, better known to the public than anything else he wrote, is

a popular treatise which he drew up for Queen Sophia Charlotte in reply

to Bayle, and in which he took pains not to present the matter in very

speculative form. A Wurtemberg theologian, Pfaff by name, and others who

were correspondents of Leibnitz and were themselves only too well versed

in philosophy, brought it as a charge against Leibnitz—a charge which he

never denied—that his philosophy was written in popular form.[243] They

laughed very much afterwards at Wolff, who had taken them to be quite

in earnest; his opinion was that if Leibnitz were not perfectly serious

in this sense with his _Théodicée_, yet he had unconsciously written

his best therein. Leibnitz’s _Théodicée_ is not what we can altogether

appreciate; it is a justification of God in regard to the evil in the

world. His really philosophic thoughts are most connectedly expressed in

a treatise on the principles of Grace (_Principes de la Nature et de la

Grace_),[244] and especially in the pamphlet addressed to Prince Eugène

of Savoy.[245] Buhle (Geschichte der neuern Philosophie, vol. iv. section

1, p. 131) says: “His philosophy is not so much the product of free,

independent, original speculation, as the result of well-tested earlier”

and later “systems, an eclecticism whose defects he tried to remedy in

his own way. It is a desultory treatment of Philosophy in letters.”

Leibnitz followed the same general plan in his philosophy as the

physicists adopt when they advance a hypothesis to explain existing data.

He has it that general conceptions of the Idea are to be found, from

which the particular may be derived; here, on account of existing data,

the general conception, for example the determination of force or matter

furnished by reflection, must have its determinations disposed in such a

way that it fits in with the data. Thus the philosophy of Leibnitz seems

to be not so much a philosophic system as an hypothesis regarding the

existence of the world, namely how it is to be determined in accordance

with the metaphysical determinations and the data and assumptions of the

ordinary conception, which are accepted as valid[246]—thoughts which

are moreover propounded without the sequence pertaining to the Notion

and mainly in narrative style, and which taken by themselves show no

necessity in their connection. Leibnitz’s philosophy therefore appears

like a string of arbitrary assertions, which follow one on another like

a metaphysical romance; it is only when we see what he wished thereby

to avoid that we learn to appreciate its value. He really makes use of

external reasons mainly in order to establish relations: “Because the

validity of such relations cannot be allowed, nothing remains but to

establish the matter in this way.” If we are not acquainted with these

reasons, this procedure strikes us as arbitrary.

a. Leibnitz’s philosophy is an idealism of the intellectuality of the

universe; and although from one point of view he stands opposed to Locke,

as from another point of view he is in opposition to the Substance of

Spinoza, he yet binds them both together again. For, to go into the

matter more particularly, on the one hand he expresses in the many

monads the absolute nature of things distinguished and of individuality;

on the other hand, in contrast to this and apart from it, he expresses

the ideality of Spinoza and the non-absolute nature of all difference,

as the idealism of the popular conception. Leibnitz’s philosophy is a

metaphysics, and in sharp contrast to the simple universal Substance of

Spinoza, where all that is determined is merely transitory, it makes

fundamental the absolute multiplicity of individual substances, which

after the example of the ancients he named monads—an expression already

used by the Pythagoreans. These monads he then proceeds to determine as

follows.

Firstly “Substance is a thing that is capable of activity, it is compound

or simple, the compound cannot exist without the simple. The monads are

simple substances.” The proof that they constitute the truth in all

things is very simple, it is a superficial reflection. For instance,

one of Leibnitz’s maxims is “Because there are compound things, the

principles of the same must be simple, for the compound consists of

the simple.”[247] This proof is poor enough, it is an example of the

favourite way of starting from something definite, say the compound, and

then drawing conclusions therefrom as to the simple. It is quite light

in a way, but really it is tautology. Of course, if the compound exists,

so does the simple, for the compound means something in itself manifold

whose connection or unity is external. From the very trivial category

of the compound it is easy to deduce the simple. It is a conclusion

drawn from a certain premiss, but the question is whether the premiss is

true. These monads are not, however, something abstract and simple in

itself, like the empty Epicurean atoms, which, as they were in themselves

lacking in determination, drew all their determination from their

aggregation alone. The monads are, on the contrary, substantial forms, a

good expression, borrowed from the Scholastics (_supra_, p. 71), or the

metaphysical points of the Alexandrian School (Vol II. p. 439), they are

the entelechies of Aristotle taken as pure activity, which are forms in

themselves (Vol II. pp. 138, 182, 183). “These monads are not material

or extended, nor do they originate or decay in the natural fashion, for

they can begin only by a creative act of God, and they can end only

by annihilation.”[248] Thereby they are distinguished from the atoms,

which are regarded simply as principles. The expression creation we are

familiar with from religion, but it is a meaningless word derived from

the ordinary conception; in order to be a thought and to have philosophic

significance, it must be much more closely defined.

Secondly: “On account of their simplicity the monads are not susceptible

of alteration by another monad in their inner essence; there is no

causal connection between them.” Each of them is something indifferent

and independent as regards the rest, otherwise it would not be an

entelechy. Each of them is so much for itself that all its determinations

and modifications go on in itself alone, and no determination from

without takes place. Leibnitz says: “There are three ways in which

substances are connected: (1) Causality, influence; (2) The relation of

assistance; (3) The relation of harmony. The relation of influence is a

relation pertaining to a commonplace or popular philosophy. But as it is

impossible to understand how material particles or immaterial qualities

can pass from one substance into another, such a conception as this must

be abandoned.” If we accept the reality of the many, there can be no

transition at all; each is an ultimate and absolutely independent entity.

“The system of assistance,” according to Descartes, “is something quite

superfluous, a _Deus ex machina_, because continual miracles in the

things of nature are assumed.” If we, like Descartes, assume independent

substances, no causal nexus is conceivable; for this presupposes an

influence, a bearing of the one upon the other, and in this way the

other is not a substance. “Therefore there remains only harmony, a unity

which is in itself or implicit. The monad is therefore simply shut up in

itself, and cannot be determined by another; this other cannot be set

into it. It can neither get outside itself, nor can others get inside

it.”[249] That is also Spinoza’s way of regarding matters: each attribute

entirely represents the essence of God for itself, extension and thought

have no influence on each other.

In the third place, “however, these monads must at the same time have

certain qualities or determinations in themselves, inner actions,

through which they are distinguished from others. There cannot be two

things alike, for otherwise they would not be two, they would not be

different, but one and the same.”[250] Here then Leibnitz’s axiom of the

undistinguishable comes into words. What is not in itself distinguished

is not distinguished. This may be taken in a trivial sense, as that there

are not two individuals which are alike. To such sensuous things the

maxim has no application, it is _prima facie_ indifferent whether there

are things which are alike or not; there may also be always a difference

of space. This is the superficial sense, which does not concern us. The

more intimate sense is, however, that each thing is in itself something

determined, distinguishing itself from others implicitly or in itself.

Whether two things are like or unlike is only a comparison which we

make, which falls within our ken. But what we have further to consider

is the determined difference in themselves. The difference must be a

difference in themselves, not for our comparison, for the subject must

have the difference as its own peculiar characteristic or determination,

_i.e._ the determination must be immanent in the individual. Not only

do we distinguish the animal by its claws, but it distinguishes itself

essentially thereby, it defends itself, it preserves itself. If two

things are different only in being two, then each of them is one; but the

fact of their being two does not constitute a distinction between them;

the determined difference in itself is the principal point.

Fourthly: “The determinateness and the variation thereby established

is, however, an inward implicit principle; it is a multiplicity of

modifications, of relations to surrounding existences, but a multiplicity

which remains locked up in simplicity. Determinateness and variation

such as this, which remains and goes on in the existence itself, is a

perception;” and therefore Leibnitz says all monads perceive or represent

(for we may translate _perceptio_ by representation [Vorstellung]).

In other words, they are in themselves universal, for universality is

just simplicity in multiplicity, and therefore a simplicity which is

at the same time change and motion of multiplicity. This is a very

important determination; in substance itself there is negativity,

determinateness, without its simplicity and its implicitude being given

up. Further, in it there is this idealism, that the simple is something

in itself distinguished, and in spite of its variation, that it yet

remains one, and continues in its simplicity. An instance of this is

found in “I,” my spirit. I have many conceptions, a wealth of thought

is in me, and yet I remain one, notwithstanding this variety of state.

This identity may be found in the fact that what is different is at the

same time abrogated, and is determined as one; the monads are therefore

distinguished by modifications in themselves, but not by external

determinations. These determinations contained in the monads exist in

them in ideal fashion; this ideality in the monad is in itself a whole,

so that these differences are only representations and ideas. This

absolute difference is what is termed the Notion; what falls asunder

in the mere representation is held together. This is what possesses

interest in Leibnitz’s philosophy. Such ideality in the same way pertains

to the material, which is also a multiplicity of monads; therefore the

system of Leibnitz is an intellectual system, in accordance with which

all that is material has powers of representation and perception. As

thus representing, the monad, says Leibnitz, possesses activity; for

activity is to be different, and yet to be one, and this is the only

true difference. The monad not only represents, it also changes; but in

doing so, it yet remains in itself absolutely what it is. This variation

is based on activity. “The activity of the inner principle, by means of

which it passes from one perception to another, is desire (_appetitus_).”

Variation in representation is desire, and that constitutes the

spontaneity of the monad; all is now complete in itself, and the category

of influence falls away. Indeed, this intellectuality of all things is a

great thought on the part of Leibnitz: “All multiplicity is included in

unity;”[251] determination is not a difference in respect of something

else, but reflected into itself, and maintaining itself. This is one

aspect of things, but the matter is not therein complete; it is equally

the case that it is different in respect of other things.

Fifthly: These representations and ideas are not necessarily conscious

representations and ideas, any more than all monads as forming

representations are conscious. It is true that consciousness is itself

perception, but a higher grade of the same; perceptions of consciousness

Leibnitz calls apperceptions. The difference between the merely

representing and the self-conscious monads Leibnitz makes one of degrees

of clearness. The expression representation has, however, certainly

something awkward about it, since we are accustomed to associate it only

with consciousness, and with consciousness as such; but Leibnitz admits

also of unconscious representation. When he then adduces examples of

unconscious representations, he appeals to the condition of a swoon or

of sleep, in which we are mere monads: and that representations without

consciousness are present in such states he shows from the fact of our

having perceptions immediately after awakening out of sleep, which shows

that others must have been there, for one perception arises only out of

others.[252] That is a trivial and empirical demonstration.

Sixthly: These monads constitute the principle of all that exists. Matter

is nothing else than their passive capability. This passive capability it

is which constitutes the obscurity of the representations, or a confusion

which never arrives at distinction, or desire, or activity.[253] That

is a correct definition of the conception; it is Being, matter, in

accordance with the moment of simplicity. This is implicitly activity;

“mere implicitness without actualization” would therefore be a better

expression. The transition from obscurity to distinctness Leibnitz

exemplifies by the state of swooning.

Seventhly: Bodies as bodies are aggregates of monads: they are mere heaps

which cannot be termed substances, any more than a flock of sheep can

bear this name.[254] The continuity of the same is an arrangement or

extension, but space is nothing in itself;[255] it is only in another,

or a unity which our understanding gives to that aggregate.[256]

b. Leibnitz goes on to determine and distinguish more clearly as the

principal moments, inorganic, organic, and conscious monads, and he does

it in the following way.

α. Such bodies as have no inner unity, whose elements are connected

merely by space, or externally, are inorganic; they have not an entelechy

or one monad which rules over the rest.[257] The continuity of space as a

merely external relation has not the Notion in itself of the likeness of

these monads in themselves. Continuity is in fact to be regarded in them

as an arrangement, a similarity in themselves. Leibnitz therefore defines

their movements as like one another, as a harmony in themselves;[258]

but again, this is as much as saying that their similarity is not in

themselves. In fact continuity forms the essential determination of

the inorganic; but it must at the same time not be taken as something

external or as likeness, but as penetrating or penetrated unity, which

has dissolved individuality in itself like a fluid. But to this point

Leibnitz does not attain, because for him monads are the absolute

principle, and individuality does not annul itself.

β. A higher degree of Being is found in bodies with life and soul, in

which one monad has dominion over the rest. The body which is bound up

with the monad, of which the one monad is the entelechy or soul, is

with this soul named a living creature, an animal. One such entelechy

rules over the rest, yet not really, but formally: the limbs of this

animal, however, are again themselves such living things, each of which

has in its turn its ruling entelechy within it.[259] But ruling is

here an inappropriate expression. To rule in this case is not to rule

over others, for all are independent; it is therefore only a formal

expression. If Leibnitz had not helped himself out with the word rule,

and developed the idea further, this dominant monad would have abrogated

the others, and put them in a negative position; the implicitness of the

other monads, or the principle of the absolute Being of these points or

individuals would have disappeared. Yet we shall later on come across

this relation of the individuals to one another.

γ. The conscious monad distinguishes itself from the naked (material)

monads by the distinctness of the representation. But this is of course

only an indefinite word, a formal distinction; it indicates that

consciousness is the very thing that constitutes the distinction of the

undistinguished, and that distinction constitutes the determination

of consciousness. Leibnitz more particularly defined the distinction

of man as that “he is capable of the knowledge of necessary and

eternal truths,”—or that he conceives the universal on the one hand,

and on the other what is connected with it; the nature and essence of

self-consciousness lies in the universality of the Notions. “These

eternal truths rest on two maxims; the one is that of contradiction,

the other is that of sufficient reason.” The former of these is unity

expressed in useless fashion as a maxim, the distinction of the

undistinguishable, A = A; it is the definition of thinking, but not a

maxim which could contain a truth as content, or it does not express

the Notion of distinction as such. The other important principle

was, on the other hand: What is not distinguished in thought is

not distinguished (p. 333). “The maxim of the reason is that

everything has its reason,”[260]—the particular has the universal

as its essential reality. Necessary truth must have its reason in

itself in such a manner that it is found by analysis, _i.e._ through

that very maxim of identity. For analysis is the very favourite

plan of resolving into simple ideas and principles: a resolution

which annihilates their relation, and which therefore in fact

forms a transition into the opposite, though it does not have the

consciousness of the same, and on that account also excludes the

Notion; for every opposite it lays hold of only in its identity.

Sufficient reason seems to be a pleonasm; but Leibnitz understood by

this aims, final causes (_causæ finales_), the difference between

which and the causal nexus or the efficient cause he here brings under

discussion.[261]

c. The universal itself, absolute essence, which with Leibnitz is

something quite different from the monads, separates itself also into two

sides, namely universal Being and Being as the unity of opposites.

α. That universal is God, as the cause of the world, to the consciousness

of whom the above principle of sufficient reason certainly forms the

transition. The existence of God is only an inference from eternal

truths; for these must as the laws of nature have a universal sufficient

reason which determines itself as none other than God. Eternal truth is

therefore the consciousness of the universal and absolute in and for

itself; and this universal and absolute is God, who, as one with Himself,

the monad of monads, is the absolute _Monas_. Here we again have the

wearisome proof of His existence: He is the fountain of eternal truths

and Notions, and without Him no potentiality would have actuality; He

has the prerogative of existing immediately in His potentiality.[262]

God is here also the unity of potentiality and actuality, but in an

uncomprehending manner; what is necessary, but not comprehended, is

transferred to Him. Thus God is at first comprehended chiefly as

universal, but already in the aspect of the relation of opposites.

β. As regards this second aspect, the absolute relation of opposites, it

occurs in the first place in the form of absolute opposites of thought,

the good and the evil. “God is the Author of the world,” says Leibnitz;

that refers directly to evil. It is round this relation that philosophy

specially revolves, but to the unity of which it did not then attain;

the evil in the world was not comprehended, because no advance was made

beyond the fixed opposition. The result of Leibnitz’s Théodicée is an

optimism supported on the lame and wearisome thought that God, since a

world had to be brought into existence, chose out of infinitely many

possible worlds the best possible—the most perfect, so far as it could

be perfect, considering the finite element which it was to contain.[263]

This may very well be said in a general way, but this perfection is no

determined thought, but a loose popular expression, a sort of babble

respecting an imaginary or fanciful potentiality; Voltaire made merry

over it. Nor is the nature of the finite therein defined. Because the

world, it is said, has to be the epitome of finite Beings, evil could

not be separated from it, since evil is negation, finitude.[264] Reality

and negation remain standing in opposition to one another exactly in the

same way as before. That is the principal conception in the Théodicée.

But something very like this can be said in every-day life. If I have

some goods brought to me in the market at some town, and say that they

are certainly not perfect, but the best that are to be got, this is quite

a good reason why I should content myself with them. But comprehension

is a very different thing from this. Leibnitz says nothing further than

that the world is good, but there is also evil in it; the matter remains

just the same as it was before. “Because it had to be finite” is then a

mere arbitrary choice on the part of God. The next question would be: Why

and how is there finitude in the Absolute and His decrees? And only then

should there be deduced from the determination of finitude the evil which

no doubt exists therein.

It is true that Leibnitz has a reply to the above question: “God does

not will what is evil; evil comes only indirectly into the results”

(blind), “because oftentimes the greater good could not be achieved if

evils were not present. Therefore they are means to a good end.” But why

does not God employ other means? They are always external, not in and

for themselves. “A moral evil may not be regarded as a means, nor must

we, as the apostle says, do evil that good may come; yet it has often

the relation of a _conditio sine qua non_ of the good. Evil is in God

only the object of a permissive will (_voluntatis permissivæ_);” but

everything that is wrong would be such. “God has therefore among the

objects of His will the best possible as the ultimate object, but the

good as a matter of choice (_qualemcunque_), also as subordinate; and

things indifferent and evils often as means. Evil is, however, an object

of His will only as the condition of something otherwise necessary (_rei

alioqui debitæ_), which without it could not exist; in which sense Christ

said it must needs be that offences come.”[265]

In a general sense we are satisfied with the answer: “In accordance

with the wisdom of God we must accept it as a fact that the laws of

nature are the best possible,” but this answer does not suffice for a

definite question. What one wishes to know is the goodness of this or

that particular law; and to that no answer is given. If, for example, it

is said that “The law of falling bodies, in which the relation of time

and space is the square, is the best possible,” one might employ, as far

as mathematics are concerned, any other power whatever. When Leibnitz

answers: “God made it so,” this is no answer at all. We wish to know the

definite reason of this law; such general determinations sound pious, but

are not satisfying.

γ. He goes on to say that the sufficient reason has reference to the

representation of the monads. The principles of things are monads, of

which each is for itself, without having influence on the others. If

now the Monad of monads, God, is the absolute substance, and individual

monads are created through His will, their substantiality comes to

an end. There is therefore a contradiction present, which remains

unsolved in itself—that is between the one substantial monad and the

many monads for which independence is claimed, because their essence

consists in their standing in no relation to one another. Yet at the same

time, in order to show the harmony that exists in the world, Leibnitz

understands the relation of monads to monads more generally as the

unity of contrasted existences, namely of soul and body. This unity he

represents as a relation without difference, and notionless, _i.e._ as a

pre-established harmony.[266] Leibnitz uses here the illustration of two

clocks, which are set to the same hour, and keep the same time;[267] in

the same way the movement of the kingdom of thought goes on, determined

in accordance with ends, and the movement onward of the corporeal

kingdom which corresponds with it, proceeds according to a general

causal connection.[268] The case is the same as with Spinoza, that these

two sides of the universe have no connection with each other, the one

does not influence the other, but both are entirely indifferent to one

another; it is really the differentiating relation of the Notion that is

lacking. In abstract thought that is without Notion, that determination

now receives the form of simplicity, of implicitude, of indifference

with regard to what is other, of a self-reflection that has no movement:

in this way red in the abstract is in a position of indifference as

regards blue, &c. Here, as before, Leibnitz forsakes his principle of

individuation; it has only the sense of being exclusively one, and of not

reaching to and including what is other; or it is only a unity of the

popular conception, not the Notion of unity. The soul has thus a series

of conceptions and ideas which are developed from within it, and this

series is from the very first placed within the soul at its creation,

_i.e._ the soul is in all immediacy this implicit determination;

determination is, however, not implicit, but the reflected unfolding of

this determination in the ordinary conception is its outward existence.

Parallel with this series of differentiated conceptions, there now runs a

series of motions of the body, or of what is external to the soul.[269]

Both are essential moments of reality; they are mutually indifferent, but

they have also an essential relation of difference.

Since now every monad, as shut up within itself, has no influence upon

the body and its movements, and yet the infinite multitude of their

atoms correspond with one another, Leibnitz places this harmony in God;

a better definition of the relation and the activity of the Monad of

monads is therefore that it is what pre-establishes harmony in the

changes of the monads.[270] God is the sufficient reason, the cause of

this correspondence; He has so arranged the multitude of atoms that the

original changes which are developed within one monad correspond with

the changes of the others. The pre-established harmony is to be thought

of somewhat in this style; when a dog gets a beating, the pain develops

itself in him, in like fashion the beating develops itself in itself, and

so does the person who administers the beating: their determinations all

correspond with one another, and that not by means of their objective

connection, since each is independent.[271] The principle of the harmony

among the monads does not consequently belong to them, but it is in God,

who for that very reason is the Monad of monads, their absolute unity.

We saw from the beginning how Leibnitz arrived at this conception. Each

monad is really possessed of the power of representation, and is as such

a representation of the universe, therefore implicitly the totality of

the whole world. But at the same time this representation is not in

consciousness; the naked monad is implicitly the universe, and difference

is the development of this totality in it.[272] What develops itself

therein is at the same time in harmony with all other developments; all

is one harmony. “In the universe all things are closely knit together,

they are in one piece, like an ocean: the slightest movement transmits

its influence far and wide all around.”[273] From a single grain of

sand, Leibnitz holds, the whole universe might be comprehended in its

entire development—if we only knew the sand grain thoroughly. There is

not really much in all this, though it sounds very fine; for the rest of

the universe is considerably more than a grain of sand, well though we

knew it, and considerably different therefrom. To say that its essence

is the universe is mere empty talk: for the fact is that the universe

as essence is not the universe. To the sand grain much must be added

which is not present; and since thought adds more than all the grains

of sand that exist, the universe and its development may in this way

certainly be comprehended. Thus according to Leibnitz every monad has

or is the representation of the entire universe, which is the same as

saying that it is really representation in general; but at the same time

it is a determinate representation, by means of which it comes to be

this particular monad, therefore it is representation according to its

particular situation and circumstances.[274]

The representations of the monad in itself, which constitute its

universe, develop themselves from themselves, as the spiritual element

in it, according to the laws of their own activity and desire, just as

the movements of their outer world do according to laws of bodies; hence

liberty is nothing other than this spontaneity of immanent development,

but as in consciousness. The magnetic needle, on the contrary, has only

spontaneity without consciousness, and consequently without freedom.

For, says Leibnitz, the nature of the magnetic needle is to turn to

the north; if it had consciousness it would imagine that this was

its self-determination; it would thus have the will to move round in

accordance with its nature.[275] But it is clear that in the course of

conscious representations there is involved no necessary connection, but

contingency and want of sequence are to be found, the reason of this

according to Leibnitz (Oper. T. II P. I. p. 75) being “because the nature

of a created substance implies that it changes incessantly according to

a certain order, which order guides it spontaneously (_spontanément_)

in all the circumstances which befall it; so that one who sees all

things recognizes in the present condition of substance the past also

and the future. The law of order, which determines the individuality of

the particular substance, has an exact reference to what takes place in

every other substance and in the whole universe.” The meaning of this is

that the monad is not a thing apart, or that there are two views of it,

the one making it out as spontaneously generating its representations,

so far as form is concerned, and the other making it out to be a moment

of the whole of necessity; Spinoza would call this regarding it from

both sides. An organic whole, a human being, is thus for instance the

assertion of his aim from out of himself: at the same time the being

directed on something else is involved in his Notion. He represents

this and that to himself, he wills this and that; his activity employs

itself and brings about changes. His inward determination thus becomes

corporeal determination, and then change going beyond himself; he appears

as cause, influencing other monads. But this Being-for-another is only

an appearance. For the other, _i.e._ the actual, in so far as the monad

determines it or makes it negative, is the passive element which the

monad has in itself: all moments are indeed contained therein, and for

that very reason it has no need of other monads, but only of the laws of

the monads in itself. But if the Being-for-another is mere appearance,

the same may be said of Being-for-self; for this has significance only in

reference to Being-for-another.

The important point in Leibnitz’s philosophy is this intellectuality

of representation which Leibnitz, however, did not succeed in carrying

out; and for the same reason this intellectuality is at the same time

infinite multiplicity, which has remained absolutely independent,

because this intellectuality has not been able to obtain mastery over

the One. The separation in the Notion, which proceeds as far as release

from itself, or appearance in distinct independence, Leibnitz did not

succeed in bringing together into unity. The harmony of these two

moments, the course of mental representations and the course of things

external, appearing mutually as cause and effect, is not brought by

Leibnitz into relation in and for themselves; he therefore lets them

fall asunder, although each is passive as regards the other. He moreover

considers both of them in one unity, to be sure, but their activity

is at the same time not for themselves. Every forward advance becomes

therefore incomprehensible when taken by itself, because the course

of the representation as through aims in itself, requires this moment

of Other-Being or of passivity; and again the connection of cause and

effect requires the universal: each however lacks this its other moment.

The unity which according to Leibnitz is to be brought about by the

pre-established harmony, namely that the determination of the will of man

and the outward change harmonize, is therefore brought about by means of

another, if not indeed from without, for this other is God. Before God

the monads are not to be independent, but ideal and absorbed in Him.

At this point the demand would come in that in God Himself there should

be comprehended the required unity of that which before fell asunder;

and God has the special privilege of having laid on Him the burden of

what cannot be comprehended. The word of God is thus the makeshift which

leads to a unity which itself is only hypothetical; for the process of

the many out of this unity is not demonstrated. God plays therefore in

the later philosophy a far greater part than in the early, because now

the comprehension of the absolute opposition of thought and Being is

the chief demand. With Leibnitz the extent to which thoughts advance is

the extent of the universe; where comprehension ceases, the universe

ceases, and God begins: so that later it was even maintained that to be

comprehended was derogatory to God, because He was thus degraded into

finitude. In that procedure a beginning is made from the determinate,

this and that are stated to be necessary; but since in the next place the

unity of these moments is not comprehended, it is transferred to God. God

is therefore, as it were, the waste channel into which all contradictions

flow: Leibnitz’s Théodicée is just a popular summing up such as this.

There are, nevertheless, all manner of evasions to be searched out—in the

opposition of God’s justice and mercy, that the one tempers the other;

how the fore-knowledge of God and human freedom are compatible—all manner

of syntheses which never come to the root of the matter nor show both

sides to be moments.

These are the main moments of Leibnitz’s philosophy. It is a metaphysic

which starts from a narrow determination of the understanding, namely,

from absolute multiplicity, so that connection can only be grasped

as continuity. Thereby absolute unity is certainly set aside, but

all the same it is presupposed; and the association of individuals

with one another is to be explained only in this way, that it is God

who determines the harmony in the changes of individuals. This is an

artificial system, which is founded on a category of the understanding,

that of the absoluteness of abstract individuality. What is of importance

in Leibnitz lies in the maxims, in the principle of individuality and the

maxim of indistinguishability.

2. WOLFF.

The philosophy of Wolff is directly connected with that of Leibnitz,

for really it is a pedantic systematization of the latter, for which

reason it is likewise called the Leibnitz-Wolffian system of philosophy.

Wolff attained to great distinction in mathematics and made himself

famous by his philosophy as well; the latter was for long predominant

in Germany. In Wolff, as a teacher dealing with the understanding, we

find a systematic exposition of the philosophic element present in human

conceptions as a whole. As regards his connection with German culture

generally, great and immortal praise is more especially due to him;

before all others he may be termed the teacher of the Germans. We may

indeed say that Wolff was the first to naturalize philosophy in Germany.

Tschirnhausen and Thomasius likewise participated in this honour,

for the special reason that they wrote upon Philosophy in the German

language. In regard to the matter of the philosophy of Tschirnhausen and

Thomasius we have not much to say; it is so-called healthy reason—there

is in it the superficial character and the empty universality always

to be found where a beginning is made with thought. In this case the

universality of thought satisfies us because everything is present

there, just as it is present in a moral maxim which has, however, no

determinate content in its universality. Wolff, then, was the first to

make, not exactly Philosophy, but thoughts in the form of thought, into

a general possession, and he substituted this in Germany for mere talk

originating from feeling, from sensuous perception, and from the ordinary

conception. This is most important from the point of view of culture,

and yet it does not really concern us here, excepting in so far as the

content in this form of thought has caused itself to be recognized as

Philosophy. This philosophy, as a philosophy of the understanding, became

the ordinary culture of the day; in it determinate, intelligent thought

is the fundamental principle, and it extends over the whole circle of

objects which fall within the region of knowledge. Wolff defined the

world of consciousness for Germany, and for the world in general, in the

same wide sense in which we may say that this was done by Aristotle. What

distinguishes him from Aristotle is that in so doing the point of view

that he adopted was that of the understanding merely, while Aristotle

treated the subject speculatively. The philosophy of Wolff is hence no

doubt built on foundations laid by Leibnitz, but yet in such a manner

that the speculative interest is quite eliminated from it. The spiritual

philosophy, substantial in a higher sense, which we found emerging first

in Boehme, though still in a peculiar and barbarous form, has been quite

lost sight of, and has disappeared without leaving any traces or effects

in Germany; his very language was forgotten.

The principal events in Christian Wolff’s life are these: He was the son

of a baker, and was born at Breslau in 1679. He first studied Theology

and then Philosophy, and in 1707 he became Professor of Mathematics

and Philosophy at Halle. Here the pietistic theologians, and more

especially Lange, treated him in the basest manner. Piety did not trust

this understanding; for piety, if it is true, embodies a content which

is speculative in nature, and which passes beyond the understanding. As

his opponents could make no headway by their writings, they resorted to

intrigues. They caused it to be conveyed to King Frederick William I.,

the father of Frederick II., a rough man who took an interest in nothing

but soldiers, that according to the determinism of Wolff, free will was

impossible, and that soldiers could not hence desert of their own free

will, but by a special disposition of God (pre-established harmony)—a

doctrine which, if disseminated amongst the military, would be extremely

dangerous. The king, much enraged by this, immediately issued a decree

that within forty-eight hours Wolff should leave Halle and the Prussian

States, under penalty of the halter. Wolff thus left Halle on the 23rd

of November, 1723. The theologians added to all this the scandal of

preaching against Wolff and his philosophy, and the pious Franke thanked

God on his knees in church for the removal of Wolff. But the rejoicings

did not last long. Wolff went to Cassel, was there immediately installed

first professor in the philosophic faculty at Marburg, and at the same

time made a member of the Academies of Science of London, Paris, and

Stockholm. By Peter the First of Russia he was made Vice-President of

the newly instituted Academy in St. Petersburg. Wolff was also summoned

to Russia, but this invitation he declined; he received, however, an

honorary post, he was made a Baron by the Elector of Bavaria, and, in

short, loaded with public honours which, more especially at that time,

though even now it is the case, were very much thought of by the general

public, and which were too great not to make a profound sensation in

Berlin. In Berlin a commission was appointed to pass judgment on the

Wolffian philosophy—for this it had not been possible to eradicate—and it

declared the same to be harmless, that is to say, free from all danger

to state and religion; it also forbade the theologians to make it a

subject of dispute, and altogether put an end to their clamour. Frederick

William now issued a recall in very respectful terms to Wolff, who,

however, hesitated to comply with it owing to his lack of confidence in

its sincerity. On the accession of Frederick II. in 1740 he was again

recalled in terms of the highest honour (Lange had meanwhile died), and

only then did he comply. Wolff became Vice-Chancellor of the University,

but he outlived his repute, and his lectures at the end were very poorly

attended. He died in 1754.[276]

Like Tschirnhausen and Thomasius, Wolff wrote a great part of his works

in his mother tongue, while Leibnitz for the most part wrote only in

Latin or French. This is an important matter, for, as we have already

noticed (pp. 114 and 150), it is only when a nation possesses a science

in its own language that it can really be said to belong to it; and in

Philosophy most of all this is requisite. For thought has in it this

very moment of pertaining to self-consciousness or of being absolutely

its own; when one’s own language is the vehicle of expression, as when

we talk of “Bestimmtheit” instead of “Determination,” and “Wesen”

instead of “Essenz,” it is immediately present to our consciousness

that the conceptions are absolutely its own; it has to deal with these

at all times, and they are in no way foreign to it. The Latin language

has a phraseology, a definite sphere and range of conception; it is

at once taken for granted that when men write in Latin they are at

liberty to be dull; it is impossible to read or write what men permit

themselves to say in Latin. The titles of Wolff’s philosophic works

are perpetually of this nature: “Rational thoughts on the powers of

the human understanding and their right uses in the knowledge of the

truth,” Halle, 1712, 8vo; “Rational thoughts on God, the world, and the

soul of man, likewise on all things generally,” Frankfort and Leipzig,

1719; “On the action and conduct of men,” Halle, 1720; “On Social Life,”

Halle, 1720; “On the operations of Nature,” Halle, 1723, and so on.

Wolff wrote German and Latin quartos on every department of Philosophy,

even on economics—twenty-three thick volumes of Latin, or about forty

quartos altogether. His mathematical works make a good many more quartos.

He brought into general use the differential and integral calculus of

Leibnitz.

It is only in its general content and taken as a whole that Wolff’s

philosophy is the philosophy of Leibnitz, that is to say, only in

relation to the fundamental determinations of monads and to the

theodicy—to these he remained faithful; any other content is empiric,

derived from our feelings and desires. Wolff likewise accepted in their

entirety all the Cartesian and other definitions of general ideas. Hence

we find in him abstract propositions and their proofs mingled with

experiences, on the indubitable truth of which he builds a large part

of his propositions; and he must so build and derive his foundations if

a content is to result at all. With Spinoza, on the contrary, no content

is to be found excepting absolute substance and a perpetual return into

the same. The greatness of Wolff’s services to the culture of Germany,

which now appeared quite independently and without any connection with

an earlier and profounder metaphysical standpoint (_supra_, p. 350), are

in proportion to the barrenness and inward contentless condition into

which Philosophy had sunk. This he divided into its formal disciplines,

spinning it out into determinations of the understanding with a pedantic

application of geometric methods; and, contemporaneously with the

English philosophers, he made the dogmatism of the metaphysics of the

understanding fashionable, that is a philosophizing which determines the

absolute and rational by means of self-exclusive thought-determinations

and relationships (such as one and many, simple and compound, finite

and infinite, causal connection, &c.). Wolff entirely displaced the

Aristotelian philosophy of the schools, and made Philosophy into an

ordinary science pertaining to the German nation. But besides this he

gave Philosophy that systematic and requisite division into sections

which has down to the present day served as a sort of standard.

In theoretic philosophy Wolff first treats of Logic purified from

scholastic interpretations or deductions; it is the logic of the

understanding which he has systematized. The second stage is Metaphysics,

which contains four parts: first there is Ontology, the treatment of

abstract and quite general philosophic categories, such as Being (ὄν) and

its being the One and Good; in this abstract metaphysic there further

comes accident, substance, cause and effect, the phenomenon, &c. Next

in order is Cosmology, a general doctrine of body, the doctrine of the

world; here we have abstract metaphysical propositions respecting the

world, that there is no chance, no leaps or bounds in nature—the law

of continuity. Wolff excludes natural science and natural history. The

third part of the metaphysic is rational psychology or pneumatology, the

philosophy of the soul, which deals with the simplicity, immortality,

immateriality of the soul. Finally, the fourth is natural theology, which

sets forth the proofs of the existence of God.[277] Wolff also inserts

(chap. iii.) an empirical psychology. Practical philosophy he divides

into the Rights of Nature, Morality, the Rights of Nations or Politics,

and Economics.

The whole is propounded in geometric forms such as definitions, axioms,

theorems, scholia, corollaries, &c. In mathematics the understanding is

in its proper place, for the triangle must remain the triangle. Wolff on

the one hand started upon a large range of investigation, and one quite

indefinite in character, and on the other, held to a strictly methodical

manner with regard to propositions and their proofs. The method is really

similar to that of Spinoza, only it is more wooden and lifeless than his.

Wolff applied the same methods to every sort of content—even to that

which is altogether empirical, such as his so-called applied mathematics,

into which he introduces many useful arts, bringing the most ordinary

reflections and directions into the geometric form. In many cases this

undoubtedly gives his work a most pedantic aspect, especially when the

content directly justifies itself to our conception without this form at

all. For Wolff proceeds by first laying down certain definitions, which

really rest upon our ordinary conceptions, since these he translated

into the empty form of determinations of the understanding. Hence the

definitions are merely nominal definitions, and we know whether they are

correct only by seeing whether they correspond to conceptions which are

referred to their simple thoughts. The syllogism is the form of real

importance in this mode of reasoning, and with Wolff it often attains to

its extreme of rigidity and formalism.

Under mathematics, which is the subject of four small volumes, Wolff also

treats of architecture and military science. One of the propositions in

Architecture is this: “Windows must be wide enough for two persons.” The

making of a door is also propounded as a task, and the solution thereof

given. The next best example comes from the art of warfare. The “Fourth

proposition. The approach to the fortress must always be harder for

the enemy the nearer he comes to it.” Instead of saying, because the

danger is greater, which would be trivial, there follows the “Proof.

The nearer the enemy comes to the fortress, the greater the danger. But

the greater the danger the greater the resistance that must be offered

in order to defy the attacks, and, so far as may be, avert the danger.

Hence the nearer the enemy is to the fort the harder must the approach

be made for him. Q.E.D.”[278] Since the increase of the danger is given

as the reason, the whole is false, and the contrary may be said with

equal truth. For if at the beginning all possible resistance is offered

to the enemy, he cannot get nearer the fortress at all, and thus the

danger cannot become greater. The greater resistance has a real cause,

and not this foolish one—namely, that because the garrison is now at

closer quarters, and consequently operates in a narrow field, it can

offer a greater resistance. In this most trivial way Wolff proceeds

with every sort of content. This barbarism of pedantry, or this pedantry

of barbarism, represented as it is in its whole breadth and extent,

necessarily brought itself into disrepute; and without there being a

definite consciousness of the reason why the geometric method is not

the only and ultimate method of knowledge, instinct and an immediate

consciousness of the foolishness of its applications caused this method

to be set aside.

3. THE POPULAR PHILOSOPHY OF GERMANY.

Popular philosophy flatters our ordinary consciousness, makes it the

ultimate standard. Although with Spinoza we begin with presupposed

definitions, the content is still profoundly speculative in nature,

and it is not derived from the ordinary consciousness. In Spinoza

thinking is not merely the form, for the content belongs to thinking

itself; it is the content of thought in itself. In the speculative

content the instinct of reason satisfies itself on its own account,

because this content, as a totality which integrates itself within

itself, at once in itself justifies itself to thought. The content in

Spinoza is only without ground in so far as it has no external ground,

but is a ground in itself. But if the content is finite, a demand for

an external ground is indicated, since in such a case we desire to

have a ground other than this finite. In its matter the philosophy of

Wolff is indeed a popular philosophy, even if in form it still makes

thought authoritative. Until the time of Kant the philosophy of Wolff

was thus pre-eminent. Baumgarten, Crusius, and Moses Mendelssohn worked

each of them independently on the same lines as Wolff; the philosophy

of the last-mentioned was popular and graceful in form. The Wolffian

philosophy was thus carried on, although it had cast off its pedantic

methods: no further progress was however made. The question dealt with

was how perfection could be attained—what it is possible to think

and what not; metaphysic was reduced to its slightest consistency and

to its completest vacuity, so that in its texture not a single thread

remained secure. Mendelssohn considered himself, and was considered, the

greatest of philosophers, and was lauded as such by his friends. In his

“Morgenstunden” we really find a dry Wolffian philosophy, however much

these gentlemen endeavoured to give their dull abstractions a bright

Platonic form.

The forms of Philosophy which we have considered bear the character

which pertains specially to metaphysics, of proceeding from general

determinations of the understanding, but of combining therewith

experience and observation, or the empiric method in general. One side

of this metaphysic is that the opposites of thought are brought into

consciousness, and that attention is directed upon the solution of this

contradiction. Thought and Being or extension, God and the world, good

and evil, the power and prescience of God on the one side, and the evil

in the world and human freedom on the other: these contradictions, the

opposites of soul and spirit, things conceived and things material, and

their mutual relation, have occupied all men’s attention. The solution

of these opposites and contradictions has still to be given, and God is

set forth as the One in whom all these contradictions are solved. This is

what is common to all these philosophies as far as their main elements

are concerned. Yet we must likewise remark that these contradictions are

not solved in themselves, _i.e._ that the nullity of the supposition is

not demonstrated in itself, and thereby a true concrete solution has not

come to pass. Even if God is recognized as solving all contradictions,

God as the solution of these contradictions is a matter of words rather

than something conceived and comprehended. If God is comprehended in His

qualities, and prescience, omnipresence, omniscience, power, wisdom,

goodness justice, &c., are considered as qualities of God Himself,

they simply lead to contradictions; and these contradictions, Leibnitz

(_supra_, p. 348) sought to remove by saying that the qualities temper

one another, _i.e._ that they are combined in such a way that one annuls

the other. This, however, is no real comprehension of such contradiction.

This metaphysic contrasts greatly with the old philosophy of a Plato or

an Aristotle. To the old philosophy we can always turn again and admit

its truth; it is satisfying in the stage of development it has reached—a

concrete centre-point which meets all the problems set by thought as

these are comprehended. In this modern metaphysic, however, the opposites

are merely developed into absolute contradictions. God is indeed given as

their absolute solution, but only as an abstract solution, as a Beyond;

on this side all contradictions are, as regards their content, unsolved

and unexplained. God is not comprehended as the One in whom these

contradictions are eternally resolved; He is not comprehended as Spirit,

as the Trinity. It is in Him alone as Spirit, and as Spirit which is

Three in One, that this opposition of Himself and His Other, the Son, is

contained, and with it the resolution of the same; this concrete Idea of

God as reason, has not as yet found an entrance into Philosophy.

In order that we may now cast a retrospective glance over the philosophic

efforts of other nations, we shall apply ourselves to the further

progress of Philosophy. Once more we see Scepticism making its way

into this arid philosophy of the understanding. But this time it is,

properly speaking, in the form of Idealism, or the determinations are

subjective determinations of self-consciousness. In the place of thought

we consequently find the Notion now making its appearance. Just as with

the Stoics determinateness is held to be an object of thought, we have in

modern times this same manifestation of thought as the unmoved form of

simplicity. Only here the image or inner consciousness of totality is

present, the absolute spirit which the world has before it as its truth

and to whose Notion it makes its way—this is another inward principle,

another implicitude of mind which it endeavours to bring forth from

itself and for itself, so that reason is a comprehension of the same, or

has the certitude of being all reality. With the ancients reason (λόγος),

as the implicit and explicit Being of consciousness, had only an ethereal

and formal existence as language, but here it has certainty as existent

substance. Hence with Descartes there is the unity of the Notion and

Being, and with Spinoza the universal reality. The first commencement

of the Notion of the movement of fixed thoughts in themselves is found

in this, that the movement which, as method, simply falls outside

its object, comes within it, or that self-consciousness comes within

thought. Thought is implicitude without explicitude, an objective

mode bearing no resemblance to a sensuous thing; and yet it is quite

different from the actuality of self-consciousness. This Notion which

we now find entering into thought, has the three kinds of form which we

still have to consider; in the first place it has that of individual

self-consciousness or the formal conception generally; secondly, that of

universal self-consciousness, which applies itself to all objects whether

they be objects of thought, determinate conceptions, or have the form

of actuality—that is to say it applies itself to what is established in

thought, to the intellectual world with the riches of its determinations

and looked on as a Beyond, or to the intellectual world in as far as it

is its realization, the world here and around us. It is in those two

ways, and in those ways alone, that the actual Notion is present in the

succeeding chapter; for not as yet is it in the third place to be found

as taken back into thought, or as the self-thinking or thought-of Notion.

While that universal self-consciousness is, on the whole, a thought which

grasps and comprehends, this third kind of thought is the Notion itself

recognized as constituting reality in its essence, that is to say as

Idealism. These three aspects again divide themselves as before into the

three nations which alone count in the civilized world. The empirical and

perfectly finite form of Notion pertains to the English; to the French

belongs its form as making an attempt at everything, as establishing

itself in its reality, abolishing all determination, and therefore being

universal, unlimited, pure self-consciousness; and, lastly, to the German

pertains the entering into itself of this implicitude, the thought of the

absolute Notion.