Locke, who combined in a strange union strong religious faith with

philosophic unbelief, turned aside, as we have seen, from the

questions which had occupied his predecessors; knew little and cared

less about substance and accident, matter and spirit; but set

himself to investigate the nature of the organ itself by which truth

is apprehended. In this investigation he began by emptying the mind

of all native elements of knowledge. He repudiated any supposed

dowry of original truths or innate or connate ideas, and endeavored

to show how, by acting on the report of the senses and personal

experience, the understanding arrives at all the ideas of which

it is conscious. The mode of procedure in this case is empiricism;

the result with Locke was sensualism,--more fully developed by

Condillac, [18] in the next century. But the same method may lead, as

in the case of Berkeley, to immaterialism, falsely called idealism.

Or it may lead, as in the case of Helveticus, to materialism. Locke

himself would probably have landed in materialism, had he followed

freely the bent of his own thought, without the restraints of a

cautious temper, and respect for the common and traditional opinion

of his time. The "Essay" discovers an unmistakable leaning in that

direction; as where the author supposes, "We shall never be able to

know whether any mere material being thinks or no; it being impossible

for us, by the contemplation of our own ideas, without revelation,

to discover whether Omnipotency has not given to some systems of matter

fitly disposed a power to perceive and think;... it being, in respect

of our notions, not much more remote from our comprehension to conceive

that God can, if he pleases, superadd to matter a faculty of thinking,

than that he should superadd to it another substance with a faculty

of thinking, since we know not wherein thinking consists, nor to what

sort of substances the Almighty has been pleased to give that power,

which cannot be in any created being but merely by the good pleasure

and bounty of the Creator. For I see no contradiction in it, that

the first thinking eternal Being should, if he pleased, give to

certain systems of created, senseless matter, put together as he

thinks fit, some degrees of sense, perception, and thought." With

such notions of the nature of thought, as a kind of mechanical

contrivance, that can be conferred outright by an arbitrary act of

Deity, and attached to one nature as well as another, it is evident

that Locke could have had no idea of spirit as conceived by

metaphysicians,--or no belief in that idea, if conceived. And with

such conceptions of Deity and Divine operations, as consisting in

absolute power dissociated from absolute reason, one would not be

surprised to find him asserting, that God, if he pleased, might make

two and two to be one, instead of four,--that mathematical laws are

arbitrary determinations of the Supreme Will,--that a thing is true

only as God wills it to be so,--in fine, that there is no such thing

as absolute truth. The resort to "Omnipotency" in such matters is

more convenient than philosophical; it is a dodging of the question,

instead of an attempt to solve it. Divine ordination--"[Greek: Doz

d' etelevto Bonlae]"--is a maxim which settles all difficulties.

But it also precludes all inquiry. Why speculate at all, with this

universal solvent at hand?

[Footnote 18: _Essai sur l'Origine du Connaissances humaines_. Book

IV. Chap. 3, Sect. 6.]

The "contradiction" which Locke could not see was clearly seen and

keenly felt by Leibnitz. The arbitrary will of God, to him, was no

solution. He believed in necessary truths independent of the Supreme

Will; in other words, he believed that the Supreme Will is but the

organ of the Supreme Reason: "Il ne faut point s'imaginer, que les

vérités éternelles, étant dépendantes de Dieu, sont arbitragés et

dépendent de sa volonté." He felt, with Des Cartes, the incompatibility

of thought with extension, considered as an immanent quality of

substance, and he shared with Spinoza the unific propensity which

distinguishes the higher order of philosophic minds. Dualism was an

offence to him. On the other hand, he differed from Spinoza in his

vivid sense of individuality, of personality. The pantheistic idea

of a single, sole being, of which all other beings are mere

modalities, was also and equally an offence to him. He saw well the

illusoriness and unfruitfulness of such a universe as Spinoza dreamed.

He saw it to be a vain imagination, a dream-world, "without form and

void," nowhere blossoming into reality. The philosophy of Leibnitz

is equally remote from that of Des Cartes on the one hand, and from

that of Spinoza on the other. He diverges from the former on the

question of substance, which Des Cartes conceived as consisting of

two kinds, one active (thinking) and one passive (extended), but

which Leibnitz conceives to be all and only active. He explodes

Dualism, and resolves the antithesis of matter and spirit by

positing extension as a continuous act instead of a passive mode,

substance as an active force instead of an inert mass,--matter as

substance appearing, communicating,--as the necessary band and

relation of spirits among themselves. [19]

[Footnote 19: The following passages may serve as illustrations of

these positions:--

"Materia habet de so actum entitativum."--_De Princip. Indiv_.

Coroll. I.

"Dicam interim notionem virium seu virtutis, (quam Germani vocant

_Kraft_, Galli, _la force_,) cui ego explicandae peculiarem

Dynamices scientiam destinavi, plurimum lucis afferre ad veram

notionem substantiae intelligendam."--_De Primae Philosoph. Emendat,

et de Notione Substantiae_.

"Corpus ergo est agens extensum; dici poterit esse substantiam

extensam, modo teneatur omnem substantiam _agere, at omne agens

substantiam_ appellari." "Patebit non tantum mentes, sed etiam

substantiae omnes in loco, non nisi per _operationem_ esse."--

_De Vera Method. Phil. et Theol_.

"Extensionem concipere ut absolutum ex eo forte oritur quod spatium

concipimus per modum substantiae"--_Ad Des Bosses Ep_. XXIX.

"Car l'étendue ne signifie qu'une répétition ou multiplicité continuée

de ce qui est répandu."--_Extrait d'une Lettre_, etc.

"Et l'on peut dire que Pétunduc est en quelque façon à l'espace

comme la durée est au tems."--_Exam. des Principes de Malebranche_.

"La nature de la substance consistant à mon avis dans cette tendance

réglée de laquelle les phénomènes naissent par ordre."--_Lettre à

M. Bayle_.

"Car rien n'a mieux marqué la substance que la puissance d'agir."--

_Réponse aux Objections du P. Lami_.

"S'il n'y avait que des esprits, ils seraient sans la liaison

nécessaire, sans l'ordre des tems et des lieux."--_Theod_. Sect. 120.]

He parts company with Spinoza on the question of individuality.

Substance is homogeneous; but substances, or beings, are infinite.

Spinoza looked upon the universe and saw in it the undivided

background on which the objects of human consciousness are painted

as momentary pictures. Leibnitz looked and saw that background, like

the background of one of Raphael's Madonnas, instinct with

individual life, and swarming with intelligences which look out from

every point of space. Leibnitz's universe is composed of Monads,

that is, units, individual substances, or entities, having neither

extension, parts, nor figure, and, of course, indivisible. These are

"the veritable atoms of nature, the elements of things."

The Monad is unformed and imperishable; it has no natural end or

beginning. It could begin to be only by creation; it can cease to be

only by annihilation. It cannot be affected from without or changed

in its interior by any other creature. Still, it must have qualities,

without which it would not be an entity. And monads must differ one

from another, or there would be no changes in our experience; since

all that takes place in compound bodies is derived from the simples

which compose them. Moreover, the monad, though uninfluenced from

without, is changing continually; the change proceeds from an

internal principle. Every monad is subject to a multitude of

affections and relations, although without parts. This shifting state,

which represents multitude in unity, is nothing else than what we

call _Perception_, which must be carefully distinguished from

_Apperception_, or consciousness. And the action of the internal

principle which causes change in the monad, or a passing from one

perception to another, is _Appetition_. The desire does not always

attain to the perception to which it tends, but it always effects

something, and causes a change of perceptions.

Leibnitz differs from Locke in maintaining that perception is

inexplicable and inconceivable on mechanical principles. It is

always the act of a simple substance, never of a compound. And

"in simple substances there is nothing but perceptions and their

changes." [20]

[Footnote 20: _Menadol_. 17.]

He differs from Locke, furthermore, on the question of the origin of

ideas. This question, he says, "is not a preliminary one in

philosophy, and one must have made great progress to be able to

grapple successfully with it."--"Meanwhile, I think I may say, that

our ideas, even those of sensible objects, _viennent de nôtre propre

fond_... I am by no means for the _tabula rasa_ of Aristotle; on the

contrary, there is to me something rational (_quelque chose de solide_)

in what Plato called _reminiscence_. Nay, more than that, we have

not only a reminiscence of all our past thoughts, but we have also a

_presentiment_ of all our thoughts." [21]

[Footnote 21: _Reflexions sur l'Essai de l'Entendement humain_.]

Mr. Lewes, in his "Biographical History of Philosophy," speaks of

the essay from which these words are quoted, as written in "a

somewhat supercilious tone." We are unable to detect any such

feature in it. That trait was wholly foreign from Leibnitz's nature.

"Car je suis des plus dociles," he says of himself, in this same

essay. He was the most tolerant of philosophers. "Je ne méprise

presque rien."--"Nemo est ingenio minus quam ego censorio."--

"Mirum dictu: probo pleraque quae lego."--"Non admodum refutationes

quaerere aut legere soleo."

To return to the monads. Each monad, according to Leibnitz, is,

properly speaking, a soul, inasmuch as each is endowed with

perception. But in order to distinguish those which have only

perception from those which have also sentiment and memory, he will

call the latter _souls_, the former _monads_ or _entelechies_. [22]

[Footnote 22: _Entelechy_ ([Greek: entelechia]) is an Aristotelian term,

signifying activity, or more properly perhaps, self action. Leibnitz

understands by it something complete in itself ([Greek: echon to

enteles]). Mr. Butler, in his _History of Ancient Philosophy_,

lately reprinted in this country, translates it "act." _Function_, we

think would be a better rendering. (See W. Archer Butler's _Lectures_,

Last Series, Lect. 2.) Aristotle uses the word as a definition of the

soul. "The soul," he says, "is the first entelechy of an active body."]

The naked monad, he says, has perceptions without relief, or

"enhanced flavor"; it is in a state of stupor. Death, he thinks, may

produce this state for a time in animals. The monads completely fill

the world; there is never and nowhere a void, and never complete

inanimateness and inertness. The universe is a _plenum_ of souls.

Wherever we behold an organic whole, (_unum per se_,) there monads

are grouped around a central monad to which they are subordinate,

and which they are constrained to serve so long as that connection

lasts. Masses of inorganic matter are aggregations of monads without

a regent, or sentient soul (_unum per accidens_). There can be no

monad without matter, that is, without society, and no soul without

a body. Not only the human soul is indestructible and immortal, but

also the animal soul. There is no generation out of nothing, and no

absolute death. Birth is expansion, development, growth; and death

is contraction, envelopment, decrease. The monads which are destined

to become human souls have existed from the beginning in organic

matter, but only as sentient or animal souls, without reason. They

remain in this condition until the generation of the human beings to

which they belong, and then develope themselves into rational souls.

The different organs and members of the body are also relatively

souls which collect around them a number of monads for a specific

purpose, and so on _ad infinitum_. Matter is not only infinitely

divisible, but infinitely divided. All matter (so called) is living

and active. "Every particle of matter may be conceived as a garden of

plants, or as a pond full of fishes. But each branch of each plant,

each member of each animal, each drop of their humors, is in turn

another such garden or pond." [23]

[Footnote 23: _Monadol._ 67.]

The connection between monads, consequently the connection between

soul and body, is not composition, but an organic relation,--in some

sort, a spontaneous relation. The soul forms its own body, and

moulds it to its purpose. This hypothesis was afterward embraced and

developed as a physiological principle by Stahl. As all the atoms in

one body are organically related, so all the beings in the universe

are organically related to each other and to the All. One creature,

or one organ of a creature, being given, there is given with it the

world's history from the beginning to the end. _All bodies are

strictly fluid; the universe is in flux_.

The principle of continuity answers the same purpose in Leibnitz's

system that the single substance does in Spinoza's. It vindicates

the essential unity of all being. Yet the two conceptions are

immeasurably different, and constitute an immeasurable difference

between the two systems, considered in their practical and moral

bearings, as well as their ontological aspects. Spinoza [24]

starts with the idea of the Infinite, or the All-One, from which

there is no logical deduction of the individual. And in Spinoza's

system the individual does not exist except as a modality. But the

existence of the individual is one of the primordial truths of the

human mind, the foremost fact of consciousness. With this, therefore,

Leibnitz begins, and arrives, by logical induction, to the Absolute

and Supreme. Spinoza ends where he begins, in pantheism; the moral

result of his system, Godward, is fatalism,--manward, indifferentism

and negation of moral good and evil. Leibnitz ends in theism; the

moral result of his system, Godward, is optimism,--manward, liberty,

personal responsibility, moral obligation.

[Footnote 24: See Helferich's _Spinoza, und Leibnitz_, p. 76.]

He demonstrates the being of God by the necessity of a sufficient

reason to account for the series of things. Each finite thing

requires an antecedent or contingent cause. But the supposition of

an endless sequence of contingent causes, or finite things, is absurd;

the series must have had a beginning, and that beginning cannot have

been a contingent cause or finite thing. "The final reason of things

must be found in a necessary substance in which the detail of

changes exists eminently, (_ne soit qu'éminemment_,) as in its source;

and this is what we call God." [25]

[Footnote 25: _Monadol_. 38.]

The idea of God is of such a nature, that the being corresponding to

it, if possible, must be actual. We have the idea; it involves no

bounds, no negation, consequently no contradiction. It is the idea

of a possible, therefore of an actual.

"God is the primitive Unity, or the simple original Substance of

which all the creatures, or original monads, are the products, and

_are generated, so to speak, by continual fulgurations from moment

to moment, bounded by the receptivity of the creature_, of whose

existence limitation is an essential condition." [26]

[Footnote 26: Ib. 47.]

The philosophic theologian and the Christianizing philosopher will

rejoice to find in this proposition a point of reconciliation between

the extramundane God of pure theism and the cardinal principle of

Spinozism, the immanence of Deity in creation,--a principle as dear

to the philosophic mind as that of the extramundane Divinity is to

the theologian. The universe of Spinoza is a self-existent unit,

divine in itself, but with no Divinity behind it. That of Leibnitz

is an endless series of units from a self-existent and divine source.

The one is an infinite deep, the other an everlasting flood.

The doctrine of the _Preëstablished Harmony_, so intimately and

universally associated with the name of Leibnitz, has found little

favor with his critics, or even with his admirers. Feuerbach calls

it his weak side, and thinks that Leibnitz's philosophy, else so

profound, was here, as in other instances, overshadowed by the

popular creed; that he accommodated himself to theology, as a highly

cultivated and intelligent man, conscious of his superiority,

accommodates himself to a lady in his conversation with her,

translating his ideas into her language, and even paraphrasing them.

From this view of Leibnitz, as implying insincerity, we utterly

dissent. [27]

[Footnote 27: See, in connection with this point, two admirable essays

by Lessing,--the one entitled _Leibnitz on Eternal Punishment_, the

other _Objections of Andreas Wissowatius to the Doctrine of the

Trinity_. Of the latter the real topic is Leibnitz's _Defensio

Trinitatis_. The sharp-sighted Lessing, than whom no one has

expressed a greater reverence for Leibnitz, emphatically asserts and

vigorously defends the philosopher's orthodoxy.]

The author of the "Théodicée" was not more interested in philosophy

than he was in theology. His thoughts and his purpose did equal

justice to both. The deepest wish of his heart was to reconcile them,

not by formal treaty, but in loving and condign union. We do not,

however, object to an esoteric and exoteric view of the doctrine

in question; and we quite agree with Feuerbach that the phrase

_préétablie_ does not express a metaphysical determination.

It is one thing to say, that God, by an arbitrary decree from

everlasting, has so predisposed and predetermined every motion in the

world of matter that each volition of a rational agent finds in the

constant procession of physical forces a concurrent event by which it

is executed, but which would have taken place without his volition,

just as the mail-coach takes our letter, if we have one, but goes

all the same, when we do not write,--this is the gross, exoteric

view,--and a very different thing it is to say, that the monads

composing the human system and the universe of things are so related,

adjusted, accommodated to each other, and to the whole, each being a

representative of all the rest and a mirror of the universe, that each

feels all that passes in the rest, and all conspire in every act, [28]

more or less effectively, in the ratio of their nearness to the prime

agent. This is Leibnitz's idea of preëstablished harmony, which,

perhaps, would be better expressed by the term "necessary consent."

"In the ideas of God, each monad has a right to demand that God, in

regulating the rest from the commencement of things, shall have

regard to it; for since a created monad can have no physical

influence on the interior of another, it is only by this means that

one can be dependent on another."--"The soul follows its own laws

and the body follows its own, and they meet in virtue of the

preëstablished harmony which exists between all substances, as

representatives of one and the same universe. Souls act according to

the laws of final causes by appetitions, etc. Bodies act according to

the laws of efficient causes or the laws of motion. And the two

kingdoms, that of efficient causes and that of final causes,

harmonize with each other." [29]

[Footnote 28: In this connection, Leibnitz quotes the remarkable

saying of Hippocrates, [_Greek: Sumpnoia panta_]. The universe

breathes together, conspires.--_Monadal_. 61.]

[Footnote 29: _Monadol_. 78, 79.]

The Preëstablished Harmony, then, is to be regarded as the

philosophic statement of a fact, and not as a theory concerning the

cause of the fact. But, like all philosophic and adequate statements,

it answers the purpose of a theory, and clears up many difficulties.

It is the best solution we know of the old contradiction of

free-will and fate,--individual liberty and a necessary world. This

antithesis disappears in the light of the Leibnitian philosophy,

which resolves freedom and necessity into different points of

view and different stages of development. The principle of the

Preëstablished Harmony was designed by Leibnitz to meet the

difficulty, started by Des Cartes, of explaining the conformity between

the perceptions of the mind and the corresponding affections of the

body, since mind and matter, in his view, could have no connection

with, or influence on each other. The Cartesians explained this

correspondence by the theory of _occasional causes_, that is, by

the intervention of the Deity, who was supposed by his arbitrary will to

have decreed a certain perception or sensation in the mind to go

with a certain affection of the body, with which, however, it had no

real connection. "Car il" (that is, M. Bayle) "est persuadé avec les

Cartésiens modernes, que les idées des qualités sensibles que Dieu

donne, selon eux, à l'âme, à l'occasion des mouvemens du corps,

n'ont rien qui représente ces mouvemens, ou qui leur ressemble; de

sorte qu'il étoit purement arbitraire que Dieu nous donnât les idées

de la chaleur, du froid, de la lumière et autres que nous

expérimentons, ou qu'il nous en donnât de tout-autres à cette même

occasion." [30]

[Footnote 30: _Théodicée_. Partie II. 340.]

If the body was exposed to the flame, there was no more reason,

according to this theory, why the soul should be conscious of pain

than of pleasure, except that God had so ordained. Such a supposition

was shocking to our philosopher, who could tolerate no arbitrariness

in God and no gap or discrepancy in nature, and who, therefore,

sought to explain, by the nature of the soul itself and its kindred

monads, the correspondence for which so violent an hypothesis was

embraced by the Cartesians.

We have left ourselves no room to speak as we would of Leibnitz as

theosopher. It was in this character that he obtained, in the last

century, his widest fame. The work by which he is most commonly known,

by which alone he is known to many, is the "Théodicée,"--an attempt

to vindicate the goodness of God against the cavils of unbelievers.

He was one of the first to apply to this end the cardinal principle

of the Lutheran Reformation,--the liberty of reason. He was one of

the first to treat unbelief, from the side of religion, as an error

of judgment, not as rebellion against rightful authority. The latter

was and is the Romanist view. The former is the Protestant theory,

but was not then, and is not always now, the Protestant practice.

Theology then was not concerned to vindicate the reason or the

goodness of God. It gloried in his physical strength by which he

would finally crush dissenters from orthodoxy. Leibnitz knew no

authority independent of Reason, and no God but the Supreme Reason

directing Almighty Good-will. The philosophic conclusion justly

deducible from this view of God, let cavillers say what they will,

is Optimism. Accordingly, Optimism, or the doctrine of the best

possible world, is the theory of the "Théodicée." Our limits will

not permit us to analyze the argument of this remarkable work. Bunsen

says, "It necessarily failed because it was a not quite honest

compound of speculation and divinity." [31]

[Footnote 31: _Outlines of the Philos. of Univ. Hist_. Vol. I. Chap. 6.]

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 02, No. 08, June 1858 A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics · 第 4 / 21 段