SOME FUNDAMENTAL CONCEPTIONS.
The fundamental category of Locke, as of all who take simply a
mechanical view of experience, is that of substance. He had good reason
to be surprised when the Bishop of Worcester objected that Locke wished
"to discard substance out of the world." How can that be so, Locke
asks, when I say that "our idea of body is an extended solid substance,
and our idea of soul is of a substance that thinks." And he adds, "Nay,
as long as there is any simple idea or sensible quality left, according
to my way of arguing, substance cannot be discarded." Everything
that really exists, is, according to Locke, substance. But substance
to Locke, as again to all who interpret the universe after sensible
categories, is unknowable. For such categories allow only of external
relations; they admit only of static existence. Substance, in this
way of looking at it, must be distinct from its qualities, and must be
simply the existing substratum in which they inhere.
Locke's account of the way in which we get the idea, and of its nature,
is as follows: "All the ideas of all the sensible qualities of a
cherry come into my mind by sensation. The ideas of these qualities
and actions, or powers, are perceived by the mind to be by themselves
inconsistent with existence. They cannot subsist of themselves. Hence
the mind perceives their necessary connection with inherence, or with
being supported." Correlative to the idea of being supported is, of
course, the idea of the support. But this idea "is not represented
to the mind by any clear and distinct idea; the obscure and vague,
indistinct idea of thing or something, is all that is left." Or yet
more simply, "Taking notice that a certain number of simple ideas
go together, and not imagining how these simple ideas can subsist by
themselves, we accustom ourselves to suppose some substratum wherein
they do subsist, and from which they do result." Hence the only idea we
have of it is of something which underlies known qualities. It is their
"supposed, but unknown, support."
If we translate these expressions into the ideas of to-day,
we see that they are equivalent to the view of the world which
is given us by scientific categories when these categories are
regarded not merely as scientific, but also as philosophic; that
is, capable of interpreting and expressing the ultimate nature of
experience. This modern view uses the words "things-in-themselves"
(or absolute realities) and "phenomena." It says that we know nothing
of existence as it is in itself, but only of its phenomena. Mind,
matter, objects, are all substances, all equally substances, and all
have their unknown essence and their phenomenal appearance. Such a
distinction between the known and the unknown can rest, it is evident,
only upon a separation between reality and phenomena similar to that
which Locke makes between substance and qualities. In knowing the
latter, we know nothing of the former. Although the latter are called
"phenomena," they do not really manifest the substantial reality; they
conceal it. This absolute distinction between substance and quality,
between reality and phenomenon, rests, in turn, upon the hypothesis
that reality is _mere_ existence; that is, it is something which is,
and that is all. It is a substratum; it lies under, in a passive way,
qualities; it is (literally) substance; it simply stands, inactively,
under phenomena. It may, by possibility, _have_ actions; but it _has_
them. Activities are qualities which, like all qualities, are in
external relation to the substance. Being, in other words, is the
primary notion, and "being" means something essentially passive and
merely enduring, accidentally and secondarily something acting. Here,
as elsewhere, Locke is the father of the mechanical philosophy of
to-day.
We have already learned how completely Leibniz reverses this way of
regarding reality. According to Locke, reality essentially is; and in
its being there is no ground of revelation of itself. It then acts; but
these actions, "powers, or qualities," since not flowing from the very
being of substance, give no glimpse into its true nature. According to
Leibniz, reality acts, and _therefore_ is. Its being is conditioned
upon its activity. It is not first there, and secondly acts; but its
"being there" is its activity. Since its very substance is activity,
it is impossible that it should not manifest its true nature. Its every
activity is a revelation of itself. It cannot hide itself as a passive
subsistence behind qualities or phenomena. It must break forth into
them. On the other hand, since the qualities are not something which
merely inhere in an underlying support, but are the various forms
or modes of the activity which constitutes reality, they necessarily
reveal it. They _are_ its revelations. There is here no need to dwell
further on the original dynamic nature of substance; what was said in
the way of general exposition suffices. It is only in its relations to
Locke's view as just laid down that it now concerns us.
In the first place, Leibniz points out that qualities are "abstract,"
while substance is "concrete." The qualities, from the very fact
that they have no self-subsistence, are only relations, while the
substance, as that of which they are qualities, or from which they
are abstractions, is concrete. It is, Leibniz says, to invert the
true order to take qualities or abstract terms as the best known
and most easily comprehended, and "concretes" as unknown, and as
having the most difficulty about them. "It is abstractions which
give birth to almost all our difficulties," and Locke's error here
is that he begins with abstractions, and takes them to be most open
to intelligence. Locke's second error is separating so completely
substance and attribute. "After having distinguished," says Leibniz,
"two things in substance, the attributes or predicates, and the common
subject of these predicates, it is not to be wondered at that we
cannot conceive anything in particular in the subject. This result is
necessary, since we have separated all the attributes in which there is
anything definite to be conceived. Hence to demand anything more than a
mere unknown somewhat in the subject, is to contradict the supposition
which was made in making the abstraction and in conceiving separately
the subject and its qualities or accidents." We are indeed ignorant
of a subject from which abstraction has been made of all defining
and characteristic qualities; "but this ignorance results from our
demanding a sort of knowledge of which the object does not permit." In
short, it is a credit to our knowledge, not an aspersion upon it, that
we cannot know that which is thoroughly unreal,--a substance deprived
of all attributes. This is, indeed, a remark which is applicable to
the supposed unknowableness of pure Being, or Absolute Being, when it
is defined as the absence of all relations (as is done, for example,
by Mr. Spencer to-day).
Closely connected with the notion of substance are the categories
of identity and diversity. These relations are of course to Locke
thoroughly external. It is "relation of time and place which always
determines identity." "That that had one beginning is the same thing;
and that which had a different beginning in time and place from that,
is not the same, but diverse." It is therefore easy to discover the
principle of individuation. It "is existence itself, which determines
a being of any sort to a particular time and place, incommunicable to
two beings of the same kind." He applies this notion to organic being,
including man, and to the personal identity of man. The identity of an
organism, vegetable, brute, or human, is its continuous organization;
"it is the participation of the same continued life, by constantly
fleeting particles of matter in succession vitally united to the same
organized body." _Personal_ identity is constituted by a similar
continuity of consciousness. "It being the same consciousness that
makes a man be himself to himself, personal identity depends on that
only." It "consists not in the identity of substance, but in the
identity of consciousness." It will be noticed that Locke uses the
notion of identity which he has already established to explain organic
and personal unity. It is the "_same_ continued life," "_identity_ of
consciousness," that constitute them. We are, hence, introduced to no
new principle. Identity is even in personality a matter of temporal and
spatial relations.
In the general account of the system of Leibniz it was pointed out that
it is characteristic of his thought to regard identity and distinction
as internal principles, and as necessarily implied in each other. We
need not go over that ground again, but simply see how he states
his position with reference to what is quoted from Locke. These are
his words: "Besides the difference of place and time there is always
necessary an _internal principle_ [or law] of distinction, so that
while there may be several things of the same species, there are no two
things exactly alike. Thus, although time and place (that is, relations
to the external) aid us in distinguishing things, things do not
cease to be distinguished in themselves. The essence of identity and
diversity does not consist in time and place, although it is true that
diversity of things is accompanied with that of time and place, since
they carry along with them different impressions upon the thing;" that
is, they expose the thing to different surroundings. But in reality
"it is things which diversify times and places from one another, for
in themselves these are perfectly similar, not being substances or
complete realities."
The principle of individuation follows, of course, from this. "If
two individuals were perfectly similar and equal, that is,
indistinguishable in themselves, there would be no principle of
individuation; there would not be two individuals." Thus Leibniz
states his important principle of the "identity of indiscernibles,"
the principle that where there is not some internal differentiating
principle which specifies the existence in this or that definite
way, there is no individual. Leibniz here states, in effect, the
principle of organic unity, the notion that concrete unity is a
unity _of_ differences, not _from_ them. It is the principle which
allows him at once to accept and transform the thought of Spinoza
that all qualification or determination is negation. Spinoza, in
spite of his intellectual greatness, conceived of distinction or
determination as external, and hence as external negation. But since
ultimate reality admits of no external negation, it must be without
distinction, an all-inclusive one. But to Leibniz the negation is
internal; it is determination of its own being into the greatest
possible riches. "Things that are conceived as absolutely uniform and
containing no variety are pure abstractions." "Things indistinguishable
in themselves, and capable of being distinguished only by external
characteristics without internal foundation, are contrary to the
most important principles of reason. The truth is that every being is
capable of change [or differentiation], and is itself actually changed
in such a way that in itself it differs from every other."
As to organic bodies, so far as they _are_ bodies, or corporeal, they
are one and identical only in appearance. "They are not the same an
instant. . . . Bodies are in constant flux." "They are like a
river which is always changing its water, or like the ship of Theseus
which the Athenians are constantly repairing." Such unity as they
really possess is like all unity,--ideal or spiritual. "They remain the
same individual by virtue of that same soul or spirit which constitutes
the 'Ego' in those individuals who think." "Except for the soul,
there is neither the same life nor any vital union." As to personal
identity, Leibniz distinguishes between "physical or real" identity
and "moral." In neither case, however, is it a unity which excludes
plurality, an identity which does not comprehend diversity. "Every
spirit has," he says, "traces of all the impressions which it has ever
experienced, and even presentiments of all that ever will happen. But
these feelings are generally too minute to be distinguished and brought
into consciousness, though they may be sometime developed. This
_continuity_ and _connection_ of _perceptions_ makes up the real
identity of the individual, while _apperceptions_ (that which is
consciously apprehended of past experiences) constitute the moral
identity and make manifest the real identity." We have had occasion
before to allude to the part played in the Leibnizian philosophy by
"minute perceptions" or "unconscious ideas." Of them he says, relative
to the present point, that "insensible perceptions mark and even
constitute the sameness of the individual, which is characterized
by the residua preserved from its preceding states, as they form
its connection with its present state." If these connections are
"apperceived" or brought into distinct consciousness, there is moral
identity as well. As he expresses it in one place: "The self (_soi_)
is real and physical identity; the appearance of self, accompanied with
truth, is personal identity." But the essential point in either case is
that the identity is not that of a substance underlying modifications,
nor of a consciousness which merely accompanies all mental states,
but is the connection, the active continuity, or--in Kant's word--the
synthesis, of all particular forms of the mental life. The self is not
the most abstract unity of experience, it is the most organic. What
Leibniz says of his monads generally is especially true of the higher
monads,--human souls. "They vary, up to infinity itself, with the
greatest abundance, order, and beauty imaginable." Not a mathematical
point, but life, is the type of Leibniz's conception of identity.
In the order in which Locke takes up his topics (and in which Leibniz
follows him) we have omitted one subject, which, however, may find its
natural place in the present connection,--the subject of infinity. In
Locke's conception, the infinite is only a ceaseless extension or
multiplication of the finite. He considers the topic immediately after
the discussions of space, time, and number, and with good logic from
his standpoint; for "finite and infinite," he says, are "looked upon by
the mind as the modes of _quantity_, and are attributed, in their first
designation, only to those things which have parts and are capable
of increase and diminution." This is true even of the application
of the term "infinite" to God, so far as concerns the attributes of
duration and ubiquity; and as applied to his other attributes the
term is figurative, signifying that they are incomprehensible and
inexhaustible. Such being the idea of the infinite, it is attained as
follows: There is no difficulty, says Locke, as to the way in which
we come by the idea of the finite. Every obvious portion of extension
and period of succession which affects us is bounded. If we take one of
these periods or portions, we find that we can double it, or "otherwise
multiply it," as often as we wish, and that there is no reason to stop,
nor are we one jot nearer the end at any point of the multiplication
than when we set out. "By repeating as often as we will any idea of
space, we get the idea of infinity; by being able to repeat the idea
of any length of duration, we come by the idea of eternity." There
is a difference, then, between the ideas of the infinity of space,
time, and number, and of an infinite space, time, and number. The
former idea we have; it is the idea that we can continue without end
the process of multiplication or progression. The latter we have not;
it would be the idea of having completed the infinite multiplication,
it would be the result of the never-ending progression. And this is
evidently a contradiction in terms. To sum the matter up, the term
"infinite" always relates to the notion of quantity. Quantity is that
which is essentially capable of increase or decrease. There is then an
infinity of quantity; there is no quantity which is the absolute limit
to quantity. Such a quantity would be incapable of increase, and hence
contradictory to quantity. But an actual infinite quantity (whether
of space, time, or number) would be one than which there could be no
greater; and hence the impossibility of our having a positive idea of
an actual or completed infinite.
Leibniz's reply consists simply in carrying out this same thought
somewhat further. It is granted that the idea of an infinite quantity
of any kind is absurd and self-contradictory. But what does this prove,
except that the notions of quantity and infinity are incompatible with
each other, that they contradict each other? Hence, instead of the
infinite being a mode of quantity, it must be conceived as essentially
distinct from and even opposed to quantity. Locke's argument is
virtually a _reductio ad absurdum_ of the notion that the infinite
is capable of parts. In the few pages of comment which Leibniz in
1696 wrote upon Locke, this topic of the infinite is one of the few
touched upon. His words upon that occasion were as follows: "I agree
with Mr. Locke that, properly speaking, there is no space, time, nor
number which is infinite; and that it is only true that however great
be a space, a time, or a number, there is always another which is still
greater, and this without end; and that, _therefore_, the infinite
is not to be found in a whole made up of parts. But it does not cease
to exist: it is found in the absolute, which is without parts, and of
which compound things [phenomena in space and time, or facts which may
be numbered] are only limitations. The positive infinite being nothing
else than the absolute, it may be said that there is, in this sense,
a positive idea of the infinite, and that it is anterior to the idea
of the finite." In other words, while the infinite is to Locke an
indefinite extension of the finite, which alone is positively "given,"
to Leibniz the infinite is the positive and real, and the finite is
only in and by it. The finite is the negative.
Leibniz amplifies this thought upon other occasions, as in his present
more extended examination. "There is no infinite number, line, or
quantity, if they are taken as true wholes." "We deceive ourselves in
trying to imagine an absolute space which should be an infinite whole,
composed of parts. There is none such. It is an idea which implies
contradiction; and all these 'infinites' and 'infinitesimals' are of
use only in geometry, as imaginary roots are in algebra." That which
is ordinarily called the infinite, that is, the quantitative infinite,
is in reality only the indefinite. "We involve ourselves in difficulty
when we talk about a series of numbers extending _to_ infinity; we
imagine a last term, an infinite number, or one infinitely little. But
these are only fictions. All number is finite and assignable, [that is,
of a certain definite quantity]; every line is the same. 'Infinites'
and 'infinitesimals' signify only quantities which can be taken as
large or as small as one wishes, simply for the purpose of showing that
there is no error which can be assigned. Or we are to understand by the
infinitely little, the state of vanishing or commencing of a quantum
after the analogy of a quantum already formed." On the other hand,
the true infinite "is not an aggregate, nor a whole of parts; it is not
clothed with magnitude, nor does it consist in number. . . . The
Absolute alone, the indivisible infinite, has true unity,--I mean
God." And as he sums up the matter: "The infinite, consisting of parts,
is neither one nor a whole; it cannot be brought under any notion of
the mind except that of quantity. Only the infinite without parts is
one, and this is not a whole [of parts]: this infinite is God."
It cannot be admitted, however, that Locke has given a correct account
of the origin of the notion of the quantitative infinite, or--to
speak philosophically, and not after the use of terms convenient in
mathematics--the indefinite. According to him, its origin is the mere
empirical repeating of a sensuous datum of time and space. According
to Leibniz, this repetition, however long continued, can give no
idea beyond itself; it can never generate the idea that the process
of repetition may be continued without a limit. Here, as elsewhere,
he objects that experience cannot guarantee notions beyond the limits
of experience. Locke's process of repetition could tell us that a
number _had_ been extended up to a given point; not that it could be
extended without limit. The source of this latter idea must be found,
therefore, where we find the origin of all extra-empirical notions,--in
reason. "Its origin is the same as that of universal and necessary
truths." It is not the empirical process of multiplying, but the fact
that the _same reason_ for multiplying always exists, that originates
and guarantees the idea. "Take a straight line and prolong it in such
a way that it is double the first. It is evident that the second,
being perfectly _similar_ to the first, can be itself doubled; and we
have a third, which in turn is _similar_ to the preceding. The _same
reason_ always being present, it is not possible that the process
should ever be brought to a stop. Thus the line can be prolonged
'to infinity.' Therefore the idea of 'infinity' comes from the
consideration of the identity of relation or of reason."
The considerations which we have grouped together in this chapter
serve to show the fundamental philosophical difference between Locke
and Leibniz. Although, taken in detail, they are self-explanatory, a
few words may be permitted upon their unity and ultimate bearing. It is
characteristic of Locke that he uses the same principle of explanation
with reference to the conceptions of substance, identity and diversity,
and infinity, and that this principle is that of spatial and temporal
relation. Infinity is conceived as quantitative, as the successive
addition of times and spaces; identity and diversity are oneness and
difference of existence as determined by space and time; substance
is the underlying static substratum of qualities, and, as such, is
considered after the analogy of things existing in space and through
time. It must not be forgotten that Locke believed as thoroughly as
Leibniz in the substantial existence of the world, of the human soul,
and of God; in the objective continuity of the world, and the personal
identity of man, and in the true infinity of God. Whatever negative
or sceptical inferences may have afterwards been drawn from Locke's
premises were neither drawn nor dreamed of by him. His purpose was in
essence one with that of Leibniz.
But the contention of Leibniz is that when substance, identity, and
infinity are conceived of by mechanical categories, or measured by the
sensible standard of space and time, they lose their meaning and their
validity. According to him such notions are spiritual in their nature,
and to be spiritually conceived of. "Spiritual," however, does not mean
opposed to the sensible; it does not mean something to be known by a
peculiar kind of intuition unlike our knowledge of anything else. It
means the active and organic basis of the sensible, its significance
and ideal purpose. It is known by knowing the sensible or mechanical
as it really is; that is, as it is completely, as a _concretum_,
in Leibniz's phrase. Leibniz saw clearly that to make the infinite
something at one end of the finite, as its mere external limit, or
something miraculously intercalated into the finite, was to deprive
it of meaning, and, by making it unknowable, to open the way for its
denial. To make identity consist in the removal of all diversity
(as must be done if it be thought after the manner of external
relations), is to reduce it to nothing,--as Hume, indeed, afterwards
showed. Substance, which is merely a support behind qualities, is
unknowable, and hence unverifiable. While, then, the aim of both Locke
and Leibniz as regards these categories was the same, Leibniz saw what
Locke did not,--that to interpret them after the manner of existence
in space and time, to regard them (in Leibniz's terminology) as
mathematical, and not as metaphysical, is to defeat that aim. The sole
way to justify them, and in justifying them to give relative validity
to the sensible and phenomenal, is to demonstrate their spiritual and
dynamic nature, to show them as conditioning space and time, and not as
conditioned by them.