SECTION XXIII.

TRANSITION TO THE MODERN PHILOSOPHY.

The emancipation of modern philosophy from the bondage of Scholasticism

was a gradual process. It first showed itself in a series of preparative

movements during the fifteenth century, and became perfected,

negatively, in the course of the sixteenth, and positively in the first

half of the seventeenth century.

1. FALL OF SCHOLASTICISM.—The immediate ground of this changed direction

of the time, we have already seen in the inner decay of Scholasticism

itself. Just so soon as the fundamental premise on which the Scholastic

theology and method rested, the rationality of the dogma, was abandoned,

the whole structure, as already remarked, fell to inevitable ruin. The

conviction, directly opposed to the principle of Scholasticism, that

what might be true dogmatically, might be false, or, at least, incapable

of proof in the eye of the reason—a point of view from which _e. g._ the

Aristotelian _Pomponatius_ (1462-1530) treated the doctrines of the

future state, and in whose light _Vanini_ subsequently went over the

chief problems of philosophy—kept gaining ground, notwithstanding the

opposition of the Church, and even associated with itself the opinion

that reason and revelation could not be harmonized. The feeling became

prevalent that philosophy must be freed from its previous condition of

minority and servitude; a struggle after a greater independence of

philosophic investigation was awakened, and though no one yet ventured

to attack directly the doctrine of the Church, the effort was made to

shatter the confidence in the chief bulwark of Scholasticism, the

Aristotelian philosophy, or what at that period was regarded as such;

(especially in this connection _Peter Ramus_, (1515-1572) should be

mentioned, who fell in the massacre of St. Bartholomew). The authority

of the Church became more and more weakened in the faith of the people,

and the great principles of Scholasticism came to an end.

2. THE RESULTS OF SCHOLASTICISM.—Notwithstanding all, Scholasticism was

not without its positively good results. Though standing wholly in the

service of the Church, it had, nevertheless, grown out of a scientific

impulse, and so naturally awakened a free spirit of inquiry and a sense

for knowledge. It made the objects of faith the objects of thought, it

raised men from the sphere of unconditional faith to the sphere of

doubt, of investigation and of knowledge, and by its very effort to

demonstrate the principles of theology it established, though against

its knowledge and design, the authority of reason. It thus introduced to

the world another principle than that of the old Church, the principle

of the thinking spirit, the self-consciousness of the reason, or at

least prepared the way for the victory of this principle. Even the

deformities and unfavorable side of Scholasticism, the many absurd

questions upon which the Scholastics divided, even their thousandfold

unnecessary and accidental distinctions, their inquisitiveness and

subtleties, all sprang from a rational principle, and grew out of a

spirit of investigation, which could only utter itself in this way under

the all powerful ecclesiastical spirit of the time. Only when it was

surpassed by the advancing spirit of the age, did Scholasticism,

falsifying its original meaning, make common cause and interest with the

old ecclesiasticism, and turned itself as the most violent opposer

against the improvements of the new period.

3. THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS.—The revival of classic literature contributed

prominently to that change in the spirit of the age which marks the

beginning of the new epoch of philosophy. The study of the ancients,

especially of the Greeks, had almost wholly ceased in the course of the

Middle Ages; even the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle was known, for

the most part, only through Latin translations or secondary sources; no

one realized the spirit of classic life, and all sense for beauty of

form and elegant composition had passed away. The change was chiefly

brought about by means of the Greek scholars who fled from

Constantinople to Italy; the study of the ancients in the original

sources came up again; the newly discovered art of printing allowed the

classics to be widely circulated; the Medicis drew classic scholars to

their court; all this working for a far better understanding of the

ancient philosophy. _Besarion_ (died 1472) and _Ficinus_ (died 1499)

were prominent in this movement. The result was presently seen. The new

scholars contended against the stiff and uncouth manner in which the

sciences had hitherto been treated, new ideas began to circulate, and

there arose again the free, universal, thinking spirit of antiquity. In

Germany, also, classic studies found a fruitful soil. _Reuchlin_ (born

1454), _Melancthon_ and _Erasmus_, labored in this sense, and the

classic movement, hostile as it was to the Scholastic impulse, favored

most decidedly the growing tendencies to the Reformation.

4. THE GERMAN REFORMATION.—All the elements of the new age, the struggle

against Scholasticism, the revival of letters and the more enlarged

culture thus secured, the striving after national independence, the

attempts of the state to free itself from the Church and the hierarchy,

and above all, the desire of the thinking self-consciousness for

autonomy, for freedom from the fetters of authority—all these elements

found their focus and point of union in the German Reformation. Though

having its root at first in practical, and religious, and national

interests, and expending itself mainly upon the Christian doctrine and

Church, yet was the Reformation in principle and in its true

consequences a rupture of the thinking spirit with authority, a

protesting against the fetters of the positive, a return of the mind

from its self-estrangement to itself. From that which was without, the

mind now came back to that which is within, and the purely human as

such, the individual heart and conscience, the subjective conviction, in

a word, the rights of the subject now began to be of worth. While

marriage had formerly been regarded, though not immoral, as yet inferior

to continence and celibacy, it appeared now as a divine institution, a

natural law ordained of God. While poverty had formerly been esteemed

higher than wealth, and the contemplative life of the monk was superior

to the manual labor of the layman supporting himself by his own toil,

yet now poverty ceased to be desirable in itself, and labor was no

longer despised. Ecclesiastical freedom took the place of spiritual

bondage; monasticism and the priesthood lost their power. In the same

way, on the side of knowledge the individual man came back to himself,

and threw off the restraints of authority. He was impressed with the

conviction that the whole process of redemption must be experienced

within himself, that his reconciliation to God and salvation was his own

concern, for which he needed no mediation of priests, and that he stood

in an immediate relation to God. He found his whole being in his faith,

in the depth of his feelings and convictions.

Since thus Protestantism sprang from the essence of the same spirit in

which modern philosophy had its birth, the two have the closest relation

to each other, though of course there is a specific difference between

the religious and the scientific principle. Yet in their origin, both

kinds of Protestantism, that of religion and that of thought, are one

and the same, and in their progress they have also gone hand in hand

together. For religion, reduced to its simple elements, will be found to

have its source, like philosophy, in the self-knowledge of the reason.

5. THE ADVANCEMENT OF THE NATURAL SCIENCES.—To all these phenomena,

which should be regarded both as causes and as symptoms of the

intellectual revolution of this period, we must add yet another, which

essentially facilitated and gave a positive assistance to the freedom of

the mind from the fetters of authority—the starting up of the natural

sciences and the inductive method of examining nature. This epoch was a

period of the most fruitful and influential discoveries in nature. The

discovery of America and the passage to the East Indies had already

widened the circle of view, but still greater revolutions are connected

with the name of a _Copernicus_ (died 1543), _Kepler_ (died 1630), and

_Galileo_ (died 1642), revolutions which could not remain, without an

influence upon the whole mode of thinking of that age, and which

contributed prominently to break the faith in the prevailing

ecclesiastical authority. Scholasticism had turned away from nature and

the phenomenal world, and, blind towards that which lay before the very

eyes, had spent itself in a dreamy intellectuality; but now nature rose

again in honor; her glory and exaltation, her infinite diversity and

fulness of life became again the immediate objects of observation; to

investigate nature became an essential object of philosophy, and

scientific empiricism was thus regarded as a universal and essential

concern of the thinking man. From this time the natural sciences date

their historical importance, for only from this time have they had an

uninterrupted history. The results of this new intellectual movement can

be readily estimated. Such a scientific investigation of nature not only

destroyed a series of traditional errors and prejudices, but, what was

of greater importance, it directed the intellectual interest towards

that which is real and actual, it nourished and protected the

self-thinking and feeling of self-dependence, the spirit of inquiry and

proof. The standpoint of observation and experiment presupposes an

independent self-consciousness of the individual, a breaking loose from

authority—in a word, scepticism, with which, in fact, the founders of

modern philosophy, _Bacon_ and _Descartes_, began; the former by

conditioning the knowledge of nature upon the removal of all prejudice

and every preconceived opinion, and the latter by demanding that

philosophy should be begun with universal doubt. No wonder that a bitter

struggle should soon break out between the natural sciences and

ecclesiastical orthodoxy, which could only result in breaking the power

of the latter.

6. BACON OF VERULAM.—Francis of Verulam was born in 1561, and was Lord

High Chancellor of England and keeper of the king’s seal under James I.

From these offices he was subsequently expelled, and died in 1626, with

a character which has not been without reproach. He took as his

principle the inductive method, which he directed expressly against

Scholasticism and the ruling scientific method. On this account he is

frequently placed at the head of modern philosophy.

The sciences, says Bacon, have hitherto been in a most sad condition.

Philosophy, wasted in empty and fruitless logomachies, has failed during

so many centuries to bring out a single work or experiment of actual

benefit to human life. Logic hitherto has served more to the

establishment of error than to the investigation of truth. Whence all

this? Why this penury of the sciences? Simply because they have broken

away from their root in nature and experience. The blame of this is

chargeable to many sources; first, the old and rooted prejudice that the

human mind loses somewhat of its dignity when it busies itself much and

continuously with experiments and material things; next, superstition

and a blind religious zeal, which has been the most irreconcilable

opposer to natural philosophy; again, the exclusive attention paid to

morals and politics by the Romans, and since the Christian era to

theology by every acute mind; still farther, the great authority which

certain philosophers have professed, and the great reverence given, to

antiquity; and in fine, a want of courage and a despair of overcoming

the many and great difficulties which lie in the way of the

investigation of nature. All these causes have contributed to keep down

the sciences. Hence they must now be renewed, and regenerated, and

reformed in their most fundamental principles; there must now be found a

new basis of knowledge and new principles of science. This radical

reformation of the sciences depends upon two conditions, objectively

upon the referring of science to experience and the philosophy of

nature, and subjectively upon the purifying of the sense and the

intellect from all abstract theories and traditional prejudices. Both

conditions furnish the correct method of natural science, which is

nothing other than the method of induction. Upon a true induction

depends all the soundness of the sciences.

In these propositions the Baconian philosophy is contained. The

historical significance of its founder is, therefore, in general

this,—that he directed the attention and reflection of his

contemporaries again upon the given actuality, upon nature; that he

affirmed the necessity of experience, which had been formerly only a

matter of accident, and made it as in and for itself an object of

thought. His merit consists in having brought up the principle of

scientific empiricism, and only in this. Strictly speaking, we can allow

no _content_ to the Baconian philosophy, although (in his treatise _de

augmentis scientiarum_) he has attempted a systematic encyclopedia of

the sciences according to a new principle of classification, through

which he has scattered an abundance of fine and fruitful observations,

which are still used as apothegms.

7. THE ITALIAN PHILOSOPHERS OF THE TRANSITION EPOCH.—Besides Bacon,

other phenomena must be noticed which have prepared and introduced the

new age of philosophy. First among these is a list of Italian

philosophers, from the second half of the sixteenth and the first half

of the seventeenth century. These philosophers are connected in a

twofold manner with the movements already sketched of this transition

period, first by an enthusiasm for nature which among them all partook

in a greater or less degree of pantheism (Vanini _e. g._ gave to one of

his writings the title “concerning the wonderful secrets of nature, the

queen and goddess of mortals”), and second, by their connection with the

systems of ancient philosophy. The best known of these philosophers are

the following: _Cardanus_ (1501-1575), _Campanella_ (1568-1639),

_Giordano Bruno_ (—1600), _Vanini_ (1586-1619.) They were all men of a

passionate, enthusiastic and impetuous nature, unsteady and wild in

character, restless and adventurous in life, men who were inspired by an

eager impulse towards knowledge, but who were carried away by great

fantasy, wildness of imagination, and a seeking after secret

astrological and geomantic knowledge. For these reasons they also passed

away, leaving no fruitful result behind. They were all persecuted by the

hierarchy, and two of them (Bruno and Vanini) ended their lives at the

stake. In their whole historical appearance they are like the eruption

of a volcano, and are to be regarded more as forerunners and announcers

than as beginners and founders of the new age of philosophy. The most

important among them is _Giordano Bruno_. He reviewed the old idea of

the Stoics, that the world is a living being, and that a world-soul

penetrates it all. The content of his general thought is the profoundest

enthusiasm for nature, and the plastic reason which is present in it.

The reason is, according to him, the inner artist who shapes the matter

and manifests himself in the forms of the universe. From the heart of

the root or the germ he sends out the lobes, and from these again he

evolves the shoots, and from the shoots the branches, until bud, and

leaf, and blossom are brought forth. Every thing is arranged, adjusted,

and perfected within. Thus the universal reason calls back from within

the sap out of the fruits and flowers to the branches again, &c. The

universe thus is an infinite living thing, in which every thing lives

and moves after the most manifold way.

The relation of the reason to matter, Bruno determines wholly in the

Aristotelian manner; both stand related to each other as form and

matter, as actuality and potentiality, neither is without the other; the

form is the inner impelling might of matter, and matter, as the

unlimited possibility, as the capability for an infinite diversity of

form, is the mother of all forms. The other side of Bruno’s

philosophizing, his elaboration of the topics of Lullus, which occupies

the greater part of his writings, has little philosophic interest, and

we therefore pass it by.

8. JACOB BOEHME.—As Bacon among the English and Bruno among the

Italians, so _Jacob Boehme_ is the index among the Germans of this

transition period. Each one of these three indicates it in a way

peculiar to his own nationality; Bacon as the herald of empiricism,

Bruno as the representative of a poetic pantheism, and Boehme as the

father of the theosophic mysticism. If we regarded alone the

profoundness of his principle, Boehme should hold a much later place in

the history of philosophy, but if we looked chiefly at the imperfect

form of his philosophizing, his rank would be assigned to the mystics of

the Middle Ages, while chronologically we must associate him with the

German Reformation and the protestant elements that were nourished at

that time. His true position is among the forerunners and prophets of

the new age.

Jacob Boehme was born in 1575, in old Seidenburg, a village of upper

Lusace, not far from Goerlitz. His parents were poor peasants. In his

boyhood be took care of the cattle, and in his youth, after he had

acquired the rudiments of reading and writing in a village school, he

was sent to Goerlitz to learn the shoe-maker’s art. He finished his

apprenticeship and settled down at Goerlitz in 1594 as master of his

trade. Even in his youth he had received illuminations or mysterious

revealings, which were subsequently repeated when his soul, striving for

the truth, had become profoundly agitated by the religious conflicts of

the age. Besides the Bible, the only books which Boehme read were some

mystical writings of a theosophic and alchymistic content, _e. g._ those

of Paracelsus. His entire want of culture is seen as soon as he

undertakes to write down his thoughts, or, as he calls them, his

illuminations. Hence the imperious struggle of the thought with the

expression, which, however, not unfrequently rises to a dialectical

acuteness and a poetic beauty. His first treatise, Aurora, composed in

the year 1612, brought Boehme into trouble with the chief pastor in

Goerlitz, Gregorious Richter, who publicly condemned the book from the

pulpit, and even ridiculed the person of its author. The writing of

books was prohibited him by a magistrate, a prohibition which Boehme

observed for many years, till at length the command of the spirit was

too mighty within him, and he took up again his literary labors. Boehme

was a plain, quiet, modest and gentle man. He died in 1624.

To give an exhibition of his theosophy in a few words is very difficult,

since Boehme, instead of clothing his thoughts in a logical form,

dressed them only in pictures of the sense and obscure analogies, and

often availed himself of the most arbitrary and singular modes of

expression. A twilight reigns in his writings, as in a Gothic cathedral

where the light falls through variegated windows. Hence the magic effect

which he has made upon many hearts. The chief thought of his

philosophizing is this, viz., that the distinguishing of the self from

the not-self is the essential determination of spirit, and hence of God

so far as God is to be apprehended as spirit. God, according to Boehme,

is living spirit only at the time and in the degree in which he

conceives the distinction within himself from himself, and is in this

distinction object and consciousness. The distinction of God in himself

is the only source of his and of all actuosity and spontaneity, the

spring and fountain of that self-active life which produces

consciousness out of itself. Boehme is inexhaustible in images by which

this negativity in God, his self-distinguishing and self-renunciation to

the world, may be made conceivable. The great expansion without end, he

says, needs limitation and a compass in which it may manifest itself,

for in expansion without limit there could be no manifestation, there

must be a contraction and an enclosing, in order that a manifestation

may arise. See, he says in another place, if the will were only of one

kind, then would the soul have only one quality, and were an immovable

thing, which would always lie still and never do any thing farther than

one thing; in this there could be no joy, as also no art nor science of

other things, and no wisdom; every thing would be a nothing, and there

would be neither heart nor will for any thing, for there would be only

the single. Hence it cannot be said that the whole God is in one will

and essence, there is a distinction. Nothing can ever become manifest to

itself without resistance, for if it has nothing resisting, it expends

itself and never comes to itself again; but if it does not come to

itself again except in that from which it has originally sprung, it thus

knows nothing of its original condition. The above thought Boehme

expresses when he says in his _Questionibus Theosophicis_; the reader

should know that in yea and nay all things consist, whether divine,

devilish, earthly, or whatever may be named. The one as the yea, is

simple energy and love, and is the truth of God and God himself. But

this were inconceivable, and there were neither delight, nor importance,

nor sensibility, without the nay. The nay is thrown in the way of the

yea, or of truth, in order that the truth may be manifest and something,

in which there may be a contrarium, where eternal love may work and

become sensitive and willing. There is nothing in the one which is an

occasion for willing until the one becomes duplicated, and so there can

be no sensation in unity, but only in duality. In brief, according to

Boehme, neither knowledge nor consciousness is possible, without

distinction, without opposition, without duplication; a thing becomes

clear and an object of consciousness only through something else,

through its own opposition identical with its own being. It was very

natural to connect this thought of a unity distinguishing itself in

itself, with the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, as Boehme has, in

fact, repeatedly done when treating of the Divine life and its process

of duplication. Schelling afterwards took up these ideas of Boehme and

philosophically elaborated them.

If we should assign to the theosophy of Boehme a position in the

development of later philosophy corresponding to the inner content of

its principle, it would most properly be placed as a complement to the

system of _Spinoza_. If Spinoza taught the flowing back of all the

finite into the eternal one, Boehme, on the other hand, shows the

procession of the finite from the eternal one, and the inner necessity

of this procession, since the being of this one would be rather a

not-being without such a self-duplication. Compared with Descartes,

Boehme has at least more profoundly apprehended the conception of

self-consciousness and the relation of the finite to God. But his

historical position in other respects is far too isolated and

exceptional, and his mode of statement far too impure, to warrant us in

incorporating him anywhere in a series of systems developed continuously

and in a genetic connection.

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