AN
EPITOME
OF THE
tiLSTORY OF PHILOSOPHY.
BEING
THE WORK ADOPTED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF FRANCE
FOR INSTRUCTION IN THE COLLEGES AND
HIGH SCHOOLS.
TRANSLATED  FROM  THE FRENCH,
WITH
ADDITIONS, AND A CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY
FROM THE TIME OF REID TO THE
PRESENT DAY.
BY  C. S. HENRY, D.D.,
PROFESSOR OF PFILOSOPHY AND HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF THE CITY OF NEW-YORE.
IN TWO VOLUMEB.
VOL. II.
NEW YORK:
HARPER  & BROTHERS, PUBLISHIERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.








CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
FIFTH PERIOD.
MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
Page
FIRST PHASE...            7
i. Ontological Systems. Theistical Systems. Nicholas de
Cusa                                                  9
Theosophy. Paracelsus. Van Helmont                       10
Naturalism. Telesio.13
Campanella...14
Pantheism. Jordano Bruno.                               17
Atheism...               19
II. Logical Systems......20
SECOND PHASE.
IMPULSE GIVEN TO PHILOSOPHY BY BACON, DESCARTES,
AND LEIBNITZ.
FIRST PART.
SECTION FIRST.
Bacon. Historical Notices..21
Exposition. I. Reformation and Progress of Science. 22
II. Classification of Knowledge.... 26
Observations..  29
Continuation of the Impulse given to Philosophy by Bacon.
Hobbes. Historical Notices. Exposition               31
Gassendi. Historical Notices. Exposition.              36
Locke. Condillac. Historical Notices.               38
Exposition...39
Observations..   43
Helvetius....44




1V                     CONTENTS.
rage
D'Holbach.45
Hume..46
SECTION SECOND.
Descartes. Historical Notices...         48
Exposition...49
Observations...59
Malebranche. Historical Notices.... 60
Exposition...ib.
Observations. 70
Berkeley....71
Spinoza.                                                72
Logic. Critical Skepticism...          76
[Supernaturalism. Mysticism]..                  78
SECTION THIRD.
Leibnitz. Historical Notices...... 81
Exposition..82
Observations..94
Thomasius..96
Wolff..97
Observations....98
SECOND PART.
GERMAN SCHOOLS.
Kant. Historical Notices. Exposition                     99
Continuation of the Philosophical Movement in Germany.
Jacobi..112
Fichte. Exposition.113
Skeptical Reaction against Kant.                       118
[ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN THIE PERIOD BETWEEN LOCKE
AND REID.                    119
Systems of Disinterested Morals..          120
Systems of the Moral Sense. Shaftesbury.        121
Butler..122
Hutcheson... 123
Modifications of the System of Moral Sense  Hume.  125
Adam Smith..126
Rational Systems. Wollaston..130
Samuel Clarke..132
Price.133
Sensualism in England. Hartley....               137
Abraham Tucker].                    140
THE SCOTTISH SCHOOL. REID. 141
Historical Notices.........142
Exposition.... 143
Observations....                             153




CONTENTS.                        V
APPENDIX.
SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY FROMll REID
TO THE PRESENT TIMIE.
ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN THE CLOSE OF THE EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY.
Page
Opponents of Hume. Oswald. Beattie. Priestley.. 157
Ethical Systems. Ferguson. Paley.159
Darwin...160
Bentham...161
Observations..165
PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY.
Stewart....167
Brown. Exposition.171
Observations....186
Mackintosh.....                190
Coleridge.192
GERMSAN PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
Schelling. Historical Notices.195
Exposition........ 196
Observations.... 199
Progress of the School of Schelling.... 201
Bouterwek..                                    202
New Developments of the Philosophy of Sentiment.  205
NOTE.-The most recent German Speculations. Hegel. 207
FRENCH PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
Preliminary Observations......               211
SENSUAL SCHOOL.
Cabanis. Exposition.... 213
Observations.                                        215
Destutt de Tracy..216
Volney..218
Gall, Azais, and other Writers...          221
THEOLOGICAL SPIRITUALISM.
De Maistre.223
La Mennais..224
Bonaldl......         226




VI                    CONTENTS.
RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGISTrS, OR ECLECTIC SCHOOL,
Page
Berard.. 228
Virey..229
Keratry..230
Massias....231
Degerando.                                           232
Laromigu~re.l...                             ib.
Maine De Biran..234
Royer-Collard.. 236
Cousin..238
Exposition..  239
Observations.... 256
NOTE.-Disciples of Cousin. Jouffroy.. 259
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
FROM THE TIME OF THALES... 261




AN EPITOME
OF TIlE
HIISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY.
FIFTH PERIOD.
MODERN PHILOSOPHY
WE here distinguish two phases. To the first be.
long the systems resulting from a philosophical im.
pulse communicated anterior to that determined by
the great schools founded by Bacon, Descartes, and
Leibnitz. The second phase comprehends the sys.
tems more or less directly connected with the influence exercised by those three great reformers of phi.
losophy.
FIRST PHASE.
THE fifteenth and sixteenth centuries produced a
multitude of writings relating to philosophy. They
may be divided into several classes.
1. Works which consist chiefly of commentaries
upon the books of the ancient philosophers. In this
class belong the writings of many Greek authors
who took refuge in Italy on the downfall of the Low.
er Empire, as Gemisthius Pletho, Theodore Gaza,
George Trebizond, Cardinal Bessarion; many of
these commentaries contain discussions respecting
the pre-eminence of Platonism above Aristotelianism.
2. Works produced by the controversy between




8           MODERN PHILOSOPIY.
the Humanists against the schoolmen.  This contro.
nrersy was, however, rather literary than philosophical. The Humanists, enthusiastic admirers of Greek
and Roman literature, more frequently attacked the
forms than the substance of scholasticism.  These
quarrels belong, nevertheless, to the history of phi.
losophy, because all the blows struck at the scholas.
tic systems had their effect in calling forth a new
philosophy. In this conflict were particularly dis.
tinguished in Italy Hermolaus Barbarus and Angelo
Politian; in Germany, Ulrich de Hutten and Eras.
mus.
3. Works that united, either with commentaries
or with philological explanations, some new conceptions, which, however, did not constitute philosophi.
cal systems. Here belong the writings of Marcellus
Ficinus, a Florentine noticeable for his Platonism, as
also those of John Picus of Mirandola in Italy, and
of Reuchlin in Germany, who endeavoured to revive
cabalistic ideas under a Christian form.
The history of this epoch recites still many other
writers who formed either apologists or adversaries
of the principal doctrines of the Greek schools.
We shall not go into any details respecting the
different works which we have just indicated; we
shall occupy ourselves solely with such philosophical
conceptions as present the characteristics of systems
properly speaking. They are divided into two class.
es: ontological systems, which have for their object
the explanation of things; and logical systems, which
relate either to the condition or to the processes of
human reason.
I. ONTOLOGICAL SYSTEMS.
WE divide these, according to their different rela.
tions to the question concerning the origin of things,




THEISTICAL SYSTEMS,              9
into theistical, pantheistic, and atheistic systems, re.
marking, however, that this classification should be
combined with another division determined by the
different points of view taken in regard to the origin
and nature of human knowledge.
Theistical Systems.
NICHOLAS DE CUSA.
BORN in the diocese of Treves in 1401. He died
in Italy in the year 1464. The alliance of meta.
physics and mathematics greatly engaged his mind.
He devoted himself also to physical speculations,
and preluded the Copernican system, by renewing
the hypothesis of Pythagoras respecting the motion
of the earth. In many respects he opened a differ.
ent route from that which the schoolmen had travelled over, by attempting to construct a philosophy
that exhibits a mixture of Pythagorean ideas with
new conceptions, remarkable for their originality and
often for their profoundness.
We signalize the following points: 1. Philosophy
may be divided into two orders: transcendental sci.
ence, whose object is the primitive, absolute, infinite
unity; and inferior science, which has multiplicity
for its object.
2. The absolute unity is incomprehensible in itself; it can be known only by symbols.  Transcendental science, as soon as it makes any pretension
of being a direct knowledge, is full of uncertainties.
[These ideas have some analogy with the principles
developed by Kant.]
3. From the primal unity proceeded all beings,
which would be as its fractions, if such a term could
be applied to the indivisible unity.
4. The phenomena of nature correspond to math.
I] a-2




10           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ematics. [This principle has been consecrated by
the theories of Newton.]
5. Human reason, like nature, does not operate
but by means of ideas of number, ideas which are
its constitutive form.
6. Humanity aspires after unity or perfection, without wishing to lose its own proper nature. If we
suppose an unlimited progress, man will be forever
looking and reaching towards a higher perfection,
and will never'obtain the goal which he seeks. If
this progress be limited, the innate desire of humanity will be still farther from being satisfied. We
cannot, therefore, conceive that this perfection can
be attained unless so far as the supreme perfection,
God, shall unite himself to human nature. " Humanity," says Nicholas de Cusa, " that by which all men
are men, is one, and the movement of my human nature has for its object the attainment of God in man."
Theosophy.
PARACELSUS. VAN HELMONT.
THE physician Bombast de Hohenheim, born at
Einsiedlen, in Switzerland, in 1493, known by the
name of Theophrastus Paracelsus, distinguished him.
self by his opposition to the scholastic medical science. He travelled throughout Europe, and proba.
bly, also, many countries of the East. Governed by
an ardent imagination, he devoted himself to alchymy.
He died in 1541, at Salzburg.
Paracelsus took, as the basis of his physical specu.
lations, theosophy; that is, a direct'communication
of the soul with God by means of illumination.
The soul, resembling God, contains in its own
depths all truth that man can know; it is full of sci.
ences, but all these notions, all these divine charac.




THEOSOPHY.                 11
ters are veiled or obscured. Consequently, it is not
by the senses, by books, by reasoning, by factitious
intelligence, that man can arrive at science; it is by
retiring within himself, by withdrawing into the essential intelligence which is in the depths of his nature: there he perceives the truth, not actively, but
passively, by divine illumination, of which purity of
heart is the condition, and prayer the means.
It is there that he recognises the plan of creation
to be one, and, consequently, that the universe, the
great world, is made after the same model as man,
or the little world, which is as its child. Man is a
hidden world.
God, who is life, has diffused life everywhere; all
parts of the universe are full of souls, who, however,
have not been gifted with intelligence, the privilege of
man created in the image of God. Souls are enveloped in bodies or matter, which is in itself a dark and
dead thing: between souls and bodies exists the spirit, a sort of fluid, which is the physical means of the
universal life. The soul, the fluid, the body: such
is the trinity of nature, which in some respects is a
counterpart of the divine Trinity.
In the same way man contains in himself three
principles, three worlds, three heavens: the soul, by
which he communicates with God, or the archetypal
world; the material body, which puts him in connexion with the elementary world; and the spiritual
body, which, being formed of ethereal fluid, is in perpetual communication with the angelic.astral world.
This spiritual body, the fine envelope of the soul, reminds one of the subtile person of the Sankhya phi.
losophy.
The triple nature of man and the triple nature
of the world being identical, there exists in man a
force of attraction by which he aspires to the life of




1 2          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
the world. He possesses at first a magnetic power
which draws from the elements the nourishment of
his flesh and blood. There is also in him a superior
magnetism, which attracts the spiritual fluid, the
principle of sensations and of worldly wisdom; and
this magnetism is itself subordinated to the aspiration by which the soul is nourished from God. But,
at the same time that he attracts all the forces of na.
ture, man improves them in himself, and recalls them
all to God, the universal centre. Thus the world
is a flux and reflux of the divine life by means of
man.
Paracelsus combined with these ideas a multitude
of physical speculations, more or less fantastic, which
resulted in theurgy and magic.
Van Helmont, originally of Brussels, was born in
1577, and died in 1664.  He adopted the method and
many of the ideas of Paracelsus. He criticised the
logical methods in order to demonstrate their insufficiency, and to substitute another process. The
knowledge of the relation which exists between the
terms of a syllogism exist in our minds prior to the
conclusion; it follows, therefore, that logic is nothing
but a means of recapitulating anterior notions, which
has no other use than to facilitate the exposition of
ideas on the part of a speaker, and the recollection
of them on the part of the hearer. All true science
is therefore independent of demonstration, and can
be acquired only by pure intuition. Van Helmont
sought to discover the internal cause of phenomena,
which he called archeus (apXl), and he decided it to
consist in the union of spirit, of the vital breath, with
the seminal image, or internal type of each being.
Many of his ideas, as well as those of Paracelsus, are
analogous to the modern theories of magnetism. He
connected, like the Swiss philosopher, physical speco




NATURALISM.                13
ulations with an ecstatic contemplation of the divine
unity, to which one could elevate himself only by that
state of abstraction, passivity, self-annihilation, which
formed the old dream of the Hindu philosophy.
To these theosophists should be added Jacob
Boehme, whose philosophy has its partisans at this
day in Germany.
Theosophy divided itself into two branches. While
in Germany and Belgium it produced, by means of
illumination, a physical philosophy, it was applied in
Spain and Italy to the moral world, and produced in
that Quietism. Molines made true virtue, perfect piety, to consist in the annihilation of all will, just as
Paracelsus and Van Helmont had made true science
to depend upon the annihilation of every intellectual
operation.
Naturalism.
TELESIO.
WHILE Paracelsus derived the science of nature
from theosophy, Telesio, born in the kingdom of Naples in 1508, attempted to convert that science into
speculations purely physical, which admit God as
the creator, but as to the rest, allow no notion of his
intervention in the theory of the world. We shall
meet presently, in the physical part of the system of
Campanella, the ideas of Telesio concerning the two
constituent principles of nature and the universal
diffusion of the faculty of feeling.
The speculations of Patrizzi, born in 1529, are
something intermediate between the philosophy of
Paracelsus and that of Telesio.  They are a mixture
of mysticism and naturalism.
II.



14           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
CAMIPANELLA.
THOMAS CAMPANELLA was born at a town in Ca.
labria in 1568.  He entered the order of the Do.
minicans. He suffered greatly from the persecutions
of his enemies, and at last took refuge in France
under the protection of Cardinal Richelieu. He died
in 1639, at Paris, in a convent of his order.
Campanella formed a theory of human knowledge
and a logic. He reduced the intelligence to the
faculty of feeling, that is, of perceiving the modifica.
tions of our own being; thought is nothing but the
generalization of various perceptions, and sentiment
is their collective whole. His logic, which differs
on many points from the logic of Aristotle, corresponds to his principles concerning the source of the
intelligence.  It is an intellectual instrument, appro.
priated particularly to the study of nature.
Campanella, unfaithful therein to his theory of
knowledge, rests all his speculations upon the basis
of a vast metaphysics. All creatures are composed
of being and non.being; and being in its transcendent
composition is constituted by power, wisdom, and
love, which have for their object essence, truth, and
goodness; as non.being is weakness, ignorance, and
hatred. These three primordial qualities subsist originally in the Supreme Being; are there united, according to an incomprehensible simplicity, without
any mixture of non-being; they are one, though distinct. This being, in drawing all things from non-being, transfers his inexhaustible ideas into matter, under the condition of time, the image of eternity, and
upon the basis of space, which has its solidity in
God, and he communicates to finite beings the three
qualities which become the principles of the universe
under the triple law of Prcessity, of Providence, and




CAMPANELLA.                15
of harmony.  With this metaphysics as the centre
of all the speculations of Campanella, are co-ordinated a physical philosophy, a physiological philoso.
phy, and a social or political philosophy.
In his physical philosophy he treats of the universe
in as far as it is an aggregate of material phenomena.
These phenomena are developed in space and in time,
which are at once something real and something
relative.  Space, taken in itself, is an incorporeal,
immutable substance, the receptacle of bodies; but
every measure of space, everything which we desig.
nate by the terms high and low, is relative to ourselves.  Time in itself is the duration of the essence
of' things; relative to us it is number in motion.
Matter, situated in time and space, is not constructed,
but fitted for construction, which is effected by two
universal agents, heat and cold. Heat, which volatilizes, formed heaven, which is composed of a deli.
cate matter; cold formed the earth by condensing
matter.  The celestial element, the seat of heat,
and the terrestrial element, the seat of cold, produce
by combination all phenomena. Light and heat are
identical; they are one and the same agent, which
is heat in relation to the touch, light in relation to
the sight. In relation to the touch, cold should be
night. All colours are a compound of darkness and
light, of black and white, for pure white is light itself.
Such are the general principles of the physics of
Campanella: we cannot follow him in the numerous
applications he has made, or, rather, sought to make,
of them.
His physiology, which considers beings so far as
having life, turns upon an induction by which he con.
eludes from man to the universe.  Ile distinguishes
in man a triple life, corresponding to a triple sub.
stance: the intelligence, which is the highest part of




16           MODERN PHILIOSOPHY.
the soul; the spirit, the vehicle of intelligence, the
seat of the sensations, and the principle of the appetites; and, lastly, the body, the vehicle and organ of
the intelligence and of the spirit.  But as all beings,
even those which are called brutes, tend to their preservation by motions as well arranged for this end as
the motions of the human organization are to its
preservation, Campanella concludes that all beings
are endowed with instincts, and endowed also, like
man, with the faculty of feeling, which is developed
in nature in various degrees.  Still farther, if man,
besides spirit, possesses an immortal intelligence, d
fortiori, the world, which is the most perfect of beings, ought to possess not only a sentient spirit, but
also an intelligent soul, which presides over its totality.  What though the world have neither eyes, nor
ears, nor hands, nor feet; its intelligent substance,
as well as its sentient substance, has superior organs:
the expansive forces are its hands, the stars are its
eyes, and it may be conjectured that the rays which
the stars send forth from one to the other are a high
language by which they mutually communicate their
thoughts.  Here Campanella enters upon astrology,
which occupies a large place in his speculations.
Social or political philosophy has for its object the
reformation of humanity; and this reformation, if it
were complete, would consist in re-establishing the
integrity and harmony of power, wisdom, and loves
the three primordial qualities, which the passions of
man have corrupted or put at variance. In his book
entitled Qf the City of the Sun, Campanella has traced the plan of a typical society. It is ruled by a
supreme chief, who represents God, who has three
ministers, presiding, the one over the physical force,
the other over the propagation of science and wisdom,
and the third over social union and the intercourse




PANTHEISM.                  17
of life. But, singularly enough, this treatise contains
nearly all the bases of St. Simonianism: community
of goods and wives, the destruction of family and
domestic relations, the transformation of domestic
service into public functions, and the public authority, which consists solely in directing the labourers,
exercised in each degree of the hierarchy by one
man and one woman. Campanella, however, presented this typical society, so far as it implied the
destruction of marriage and all the immoral consequences resulting therefrom, only as something intermediate between the degradation of heathen society and the social perfection of which Christianity is
the principle.
Pantheism.
JORDANO BRUNO.
ABOUT the commencement of the sixteenth century,
Pomponatius, an Italian, had borrowed from the philosophy of Averroes many principles incompatible
with the Catholic faith; and some time afterward Jerome Cardan, of Pavia, who died in 1576, had equal.
ly infringed upon orthodoxy by his fantastic opin.
ions.  But greater errors were soon produced.  A
pantheistic system, the precursor of Spinoza's, ap.
peared in the writings of Jordano Bruno, born at Nola,
in the kingdom of Naples, about the middle of the
sixteenth century. After having embraced the reli.
gious life in a convent of the Dominicans, he fled to
Geneva, where he made a profession of Calvinism.
He afterward travelled in France, England, and Germany. He returned to Italy, when he was arrested
and taken to Rome, where he was condemned and
burned to death in 1600.
The system of Jordano Bruno has been interpreted




18           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
in various ways. The following is our conception
of it in its fundamental principles, as we gather it by
combining various principles scattered through his
writings:
Nothing exists which is not one; for everything
which is not one is, in as far as it is multiple, only
a compound, and every composition is only an ag.
gregate of relations, and not a reality.  Unity is
therefore being, and being is reality. Unless we ad.
mit that everything is relative, an opinion repugnan'
to human reason, which tends to the absolute, we
must acknowledge an absolute unity, without parts
without limits. In that unity, the infinite and the
finite, spirit and matter, equal and unequal, are con.
founded. Hence results the absolute identity of all
things; for the most general principles of the difference of things are the infinite and the finite, spirit
and matter; and this distinction, which cannot con.
stitute a real difference in the essence of the abso.
lute unity, indicates only a diversity of modifications
in the same one and universal being.
From this science of being is derived a subordinate science, the science of the universe.  The world
is nothing but the unity manifesting itself under the
conditions of number. Taken in itself, the unity is
God; considered as producing itself in number, it is
the world. It there manifests itself under two prin
cipal forms. The universe being necessarily conceived as illimitable, it manifests itself therein as infinitely great; and, on the other hand, all the beings
of which it is composed being themselves composites,
essentially reducible to simple unities or monads, it
manifests itself under this relation as infinitely small,
the minimum. Finally, below the science of the universe ranks the science of particular or individual
things, which, as such, are only pure shadows of re.
ality.




AThEISM.                  19
From this it may be understood how Jordano
Bruno distinguishes in the human mind three regions
corresponding to these three divisions of the great
whole. The senses, which are in relation only with
particular phenomena, are like an eye which from
the depth of a dark prison perceives through the
cracks in the wall the colours which come from the
surface of objects. The reason is an eye which re.
ceives through' a window the light of the sun reflect.
ed by the moon; for reason regards not the light of
unity in itself, but its reflection or refraction in the
universe. Finally, the intellect resides in the highest
region of the soul, as upon a height from which its
glance, passing over all that is multiple, fixes direct.
ly on the sun, which is the unity of light. The
senses perceive things explicatim, reason, complicatim,
intellect, summatim.
Bruno was led by his system to maintain that good
and evil, beauty and deformity, happiness and misery,
have no absolute difference, but only a relative difference. According to Bayle, he has exhibited his
theory as one that should free man from all fear of
punishment in a future life, although, nevertheless,
there are other passages in his writings in which he
has adopted the idea of metempsychosis in the sense
of the Hindu philosophy.
Atheism.
Atheism seems to have been maintained by Vani.
ni, born 1596, and burned at Toulouse in 1619. His
doctrine, which has nothing very remarkable, rested
upon various passages drawn from the writings of
Averroes, Pomponatius, and Cardan.




20           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
II. LOGICAL SYSTEMS.
THE logical works of the epoch we are surveying
may be divided into two classes: the one treated
solely of logic as the organ, or of the processes of
reasoning; the other referred to the condition itself
of human reason, that is, to the means afforded man
to acquire certainty.
1. In the first relation we may notice the attempt
made by Peter Ramus, born at the beginning of the
sixteenth century in a village of Vermandois.  He
undertook the reform of logic. He reproached the
logic of Aristotle, employed in the schools, as being
inapplicable to the sciences, the arts, and affairs of
life. In this point of view he subjected their methods to very severe criticism.  But, in order to facilitate the employment of logic, he fell into an extreme
the opposite of that which he blamed: for he reduced
the theory of reasoning to the art of skilful disquisition. The attempt of Ramus produced great ex.
citement in the schools; it was a progress in so far
as it tended to break the classical bonds of Aristotelianism.
2. Among the logical works which made the con.
dition of human reason their special object, we may
refer to those of a school which considered the rea.
son of man as naturally uncertain, until it attained,
by means of the Christian revelation, a supernatural
certainty. This class of ideas was developed by
Montaigne in his apology for Raymond of Sebonde.
It is perceptible in the book of the Three Verities by
his disciple Charron. These principles were also
those of the Portuguese Sanchez, professor at Tou.
louse, contemporary with Montaigne, from whom
he probably borrowed them.  Here likewise may
be referred the scientific skepticism which Lamotho




BACON.                   21
Levayer maintained in the seventeenth century, in
his Discourse to show that the doubts of the skeptical
philosophy have been of great use in the sciences.
Pascal in some parts of his writings, and Huet in
the first part of his Qucestiones Asnetance, and in his
treatise of the Feebleness of the Human Mind, have
defended this system.
SECOND PHASE.
IMPULSE GIVEN TO PHILOSOPHY BY BACON, DESCAR.
TES, AND LEIBNITZ.
THIS second phase may be divided into two parts.
In the first we shall speak of the systems peculiar
to each of these three great philosophers, as well as
of the systems which are connected more or less directly with the special influence exerted by each of
them.
In the second part we include the systems that
have constituted the new schools, whose construc.
tion has been affected by the triple influence of the
Baconian, Cartesian, and Leibnitzian philosophy to
gether.
FIRST PART.
SECTION I.
BACON.
Historical Notices.
FRANCIS BACON, son of a celebrated English law.
yer, was born at London in 1561. His superior
abilities were manifested from his childhood. He
was early struck with the vices of the method employed in scientific instruction. His knowledge of
jurisprudence opened to him the career of public office. He played an important part in the political




22           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
affairs of his country, and was made lord-chancellor,
with the title of Baron Verulam, in the reign of
James I. But his character was not as perfect as
his genius.  Bacon died in 1626.  His philosophical
reputation rests most of all upon two works, the one
entitled De Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum, the
other Novum  Organum  Scientiarum.  Most of his
other works relate especially to the physical sciences;
some of them pertain to morals. He wrote also
the commencement of a History of Great Britain,
and the History of the Reigns of Henry VII. and
Henry VIII.
Exposition.
Bacon laid down this principle, that the activity of
the intellect is exercised only upon data primitively
furnished by sensation. This principle was in many
respects the soul of his philosophy; but he did not
undertake to develop it in the form of a theory.
Apart from his principle, the works of Bacon in
their general character may be divided into two
parts: the first treats of the reform and progress of
science; the second is a classification of human
knowledge, with the purpose of establishing the ba.
ses of its organization.
I. Of the Reformation and Progress of Science.
Bacon investigates first the causes that have retarded and corrupted the sciences, then the methods
which science should follow.
The causes that have retarded and vitiated science
are four in number. He gives them the name of
idols, because false science is a sort of intellectual
idolatry, which pays to errors the worship due to
truth.
1. Idols of the tribe, idola tribeis.  These are prej.




BACON.                  23
udices common to all men. The human race is con.
sidered by him as a great tribe, which, in relation to
the universal society of beings, has its particular
principles.
2. Idols of the cave, idola specus. These are in.
dividual prejudices. Every man has in his own soul
a sort of dark cave, where the rays of truth become
broken and lost.
3. Idols of the forum, idolafori. This denomination comprehends all the prejudices men reciprocally
communicate to each other by the influence they exert upon each other.
4. Lastly, idols of the theatre, idola theatri. These
are the prejudices which spring from the ascendency that philosophers and masters acquire over their
disciples. Bacon gives to these prejudices the name
of idols of the theatre, because he represented to himself philosophical doctors as actors, who come to
play in turn their part of comedy upon the scene of
the world.
Respecting the last cause of error, Bacon goes into
particular developments. False philosophy has three
principal branches: the rational, the empirical, and
the superstitious philosophy. Rational philosophy
takes up abstract notions as they present themselves,
without examining them; and reason, separated from
experiment, takes all the charge of constituting science. This philosophy has been very hurtful; but
these evils will cease when men feel the necessity
of adhering to experiment. The empirical philoso.
phy begins with experience, but does not follow out
the right road; it throws itself into hypothesis. The
superstitious philosophy is an irrational mixture of
philosophy and theology. Such, according to Ba.
con, was the philosophy of Plato and of many Christian writers, who, to conceal the weakness of their




24           MODERN PHILOSOPHlY.
opinions, have represented them as necessarily bound
up with revealed faith.
From all these causes of error comes, first, a false
contemplation of nature: this was directed against
Aristotle, whom Bacon accused of mutilating nature
to make it fall in to the framework of his categories;
secondly, a false method of demonstration, which has
in all times prevailed in the domain of science. This
is proved by the little harmony which has reigned
among philosophers, and the barrenness of science
in results applicable to the welfare of humanity. It
is easy, besides, to conceive that false methods of
demonstration must inevitably have predominated, if
we consider the permanent causes of this general
fact. The basis of experiment has been neglected.
The human mind has languished in a long lethargy;
for we see but three epochs, and those very brief,
among particular nations, the Greeks, the Romans,
and the moderns (Bacon knew nothing of Orient.
al philosophy), in which there was any attempt to
arouse from this slumber. Men who occupy themselves with philosophy, give themselves up at the
same time to a crowd of distracting pursuits: we see
nowhere bodies of men united together and entirely
devoted to the progress of science, and the greatest
part of philosophers are led by motives of individual
interest. Moreover, an excessive reverence for an.
tiquity, which allows no change, is an obstacle to dis.
covery. In fine, the human mind gives over, de.
spairs of science, says everything has been done, that
nothing more remains to do.
Having treated of the causes which retard and vi.
tiate the sciences, Bacon lays down the methods which
science should follow. They may be reduced to these
three fundamental processes:
1. It is necessary to take facts from nature, to en



BACON.                  25
rol the pure phenomena, without seeking at first to
combine and explain them, because this premature
attempt might be vitiated by preconceived notions.
Such matters of observation, free from all mixture,
phenomena simply as facts, Bacon calls instantiae nature.
2. After having noted the phenomena, it is neces.
sary, in order to aid the mind, which would be crush.
ed under such a mass of facts, to construct tables of
them, comparationes instantiarum, in which the phenomena should be classed in an order easy to comprehend.
3. Finally, when we have gotten these tables, it is
necessary to advance to a real knowledge of nature
by way of induction, either exclusive or affirmative.
There are already, in all the sciences as they now
exist, inductions more or less numerous. All these
inductions must be referred to the tables of instances,
and compared with the facts therein classified, in order to exclude those which do not agree with facts.
Bacon then gives the laws of induction. He constructs practical categories relating to the method of
observation, as Aristotle had made logical categories
for the basis of the syllogistic method.  These prac.
tical categories are divided into secondary precepts,
which are multiplied extremely. The following table will give an idea of the circle embraced by Bacon:
1. Praerogativae instantiarum:
2. Adminicula inductionis:
3. Ratificatio inductionis:
4. Variatio inductionis pro natura subjecti:.5. PrIerogativme naturarum  quatenus ad inquisitiones, sive quid est inquirendum prius et posterius:
6. Termini inquisitionis:
7. Reductio ad praxim:
TT __.~




26            MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
8. Parasceue ad inquisitionem:
9. Schola ascensoria et descensoria axiomatum.
IL Classification of Knowledge for the purpose of establishing the bases of their organization.
This is the second part of the philosophical labours
of Bacon. In the first he resembles a traveller, who,
before setting out for an unknown country which he
is proposing to explore, gets rid of all bad instru.
ments of observation that may have been handed
down to him, and constructs better; in the second
Bacon puts himself upon the road, and, after his re.
turn from his travels, describes the places he has vis.
ited. His classification of the sciences is a cosmog.
raphy of the human mind, or, in his own way of
speaking, a description of the intellectual globe.
He refers all the productions of the human mind
to three principal faculties: first, memory; secondly, phantasy, which, in the philosophy of Bacon, is
the same as the active imagination of the schoolmen;
thirdly, reason. To the memory corresponds poesy;
to the reason is referred science properly speaking.
History considers individual beings and facts; poesy
seizes upon what the memory furnishes in order to
form fictitious beings. Science, combining individ.
ual facts, generalizes and explains them. History
is a guide; poesy is a dream; science is being awake.
1. HISTORY. History is divided into Natural, and
Civil, or Human History.
Natural History is divided into three branches;
for nature either freely follows its course, or deviates
into disorder, or is subjugated by man. Natural
History, therefore, comprehends the history of regu.
lar phenomena, of monstrosities, and of the arts.
The first is begun, but ought to undergo a reforma.
tion; the second is not reduced to a science; the




BACON.                     27
third does not exist. Bacon places it among the de.
siderata of the human mind.
Civil History, or, rather, Human History, is also
divided into three branches.
First. Civil History properly so called. When
incomplete, it is composed of simple memoirs; when
complete, it takes the name of chronicles if it considers events in succession, of biography if it con.
cerns itself only with an individual, of narrative if it
refers to an event.
Secondly. Sacred History allows the same classification, but there are others peculiar to it.  It comprehends the history of religion, the particular history of prophecies, and the history of the temporal
government of Providence.
Thirdly. Literary History, which is among the
number of the desiderata, yet is nevertheless of the
greatest importance, since it is the history of the
human mind itself. Without it the mind is like Po.
lyphemus deprived of his eye.
2. POESY. Poesy is either narrative, that is to say,
historical fiction, or dramatic, when fictitious history
is represented to the eyes; or parabolic, which is a
fiction designed to veil and present some truth.  In
the Greek mythology the fable of Pan is a cosmo.
logical parable; that of Perseus a political parable;
that of Bacchus a moral parable.*
3. SCIENCE PROPERLY SO CALLED. As there are
waters which spring from the earth, and others which
descend from the skies, so there are sciences which
man derives from the terrestrial world, and another
* [From the representation above, it appears that Bacon takes
Poesy only in the restricted sense of Poetry as commonly understood, namely, the representation of the Beautiful in words, and
thus assigns no place among the productions of the Phantasy, or
creative imagination, to the other arts of the beautiful, music,
sainting, sculpture, and architecture.-Ed.]




28           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
science which comes from heaven by revelation.
Revelation is the complement of all the sciences that
man has created by the sweat of his brow; the sab.
bath of the intelligence, the divine day of repose and
consummation.
Hlman science, designated by the general name
of philosophy, contains a multitude of different ob.
jects, and, therefore, as many sciences.  To consti.
tute their unity, it is necessary to have a general
science, comprising a body of axioms common to all
particular sciences.
The special sciences have three principal objects:
God, Nature, and Man.  We know nature by a ray
of direct light; man by a reflex ray; God by a re.
fracted ray.
After having said something of theology, Bacon
occupies himself with natural science.  It is either
speculative or practical. The one penetrates into
the interior of nature, the other places nature between the hammer and the anvil. The one observes,
the other experiments.
Speculative science comprehends physics and met.
Aphysics. Physics investigates the efficient causes
of phenomena; metaphysics occupies itself about
the abstract forms and final causes of being.
Practical. science comprehends mechanics, by
which name Bacon designates experimentation in
general, and magic, which is experimentation applied
to the production of extraordinary phenomena.
As to mathematics, Bacon regards it as a science
purely instrumental.  It is divided into pure mathe.
matics, in which he comprehends only geometry and
algebra, and mixed mathematics, or mathematics ap.
plied to the arts.
Science relative to man treats of human nature
and of civil society.




BACON.                  29
Man being composed of a body and a soul united
together, Bacon holds that, before occupying our.
selves with either of these separately, it is necessary
to constitute a science relating to the unity of man,
which should explain everything that concerns per.
sonality and the communication between the soul and
the body.
After this general science of human nature comes
that which relates to the body. It is divided into as
many branches as there are corporeal goods. To
health corresponds medicine; to beauty, cosmical
science, which comprises the arts of luxury; to
strength, gymnastic science; to pleasure, music and
painting.
The science of the soul treats either of its substance, to ascertain whether it is material and im.
mortal, or of its faculties, which are either logical or
moral.
Logic is either inventive or traditive; its object
is either the investigation or the communication of
truth. Under this second relation it comprehends
grammar, rhetoric, criticism, and pedagogy.
Speculative moral science exhibits the natural history of character: practical moral science is devoted
to the culture of the affections.
The second branch of the science of man refers to
civil society: it is divided into three parts, because
society should secure three sorts of good: 1. Sola.
men contra solitudinem; 2. Adjuvamen in negotiis;
3. Adjuvamen contra injurias.
Bacon concludes with some reflections upon theology founded upon revelation, which crowns the ed.
ifice of all human knowledge.
Observations.
1. Bacon has been a founder of methods, and not




30           MODERN PHILOSOPHY
a creator of great theories. He occupied himself
with the organization of the human mind far more
than with the explanation of things.
2. We shall see soon how the principle of sensu.
alism, insinuated by Bacon, corrupted by its gradual
development nearly all branches of philosophy.
3. Bacon rendered eminent service to science by
putting the mind upon the track of observation, which
had not been travelled by the scholastic philosophy,
entangled as it was in the circle of logical processes.
Yet, as a method of observation, his method is not
complete: he insisted upon the observation of sensible facts, and neglected to recommend the observation of psychological facts.
4. All his efforts were directed to the object of substituting induction for the syllogistic method.  In.
duction is really the legitimate process in the physical sciences, which, as founded upon experience, cannot admit of a superior process. In this relation the
philosophy of Bacon has had useful results; but by
representing induction as the sole and universal process in all branches of knowledge, he banished deduction, and consequently assumed that there did not
exist in the human intelligence truths, necessary, ab.
solute, and independent of experience except merely
as the condition of their development.  In this relation, that is to say, in as far as it pretended to fur.
nish the general law of the mind, the method of Bacon was radically vicious.
5. Induction necessarily supposes the relation of
effect to cause; and the whole philosophy of Bacon
is based upon the principle of causality. But if there
existed in the human reason nothing but elements
furnished by experience, could reason ever affirm the
universal principle that every phenomenon has a
cause? And if it could not affirm it as an absolute




HOBBES.                 31
principle, would not the investigation of causes be
reduced in every particular case to the creation of
pure hypotheses? a result diametrically opposed to
the pretensions of the philosophy of Bacon.
Continuation of the Impulse given to Philosophy by
Bacon.
The principle laid down by Bacon, that sensations
are the sole matter of which the tissue of human
knowledge is formed, contained a whole psychology;
but, before it could develop itself completely, this
principle was applied to cosmology by Gassendi, to
morals and politics by Hobbes.  Then it produced
its proper psychology in the works of Locke and Condillac; and with the aid of this development, it was
applied anew to morals and politics by Helvetius, to
cosmology by the Baron d'Holbach, and by the whole
materialist'school of the eighteenth century, of which
these two philosophers are the principal types.
HOBBES.
Historical Notices.
THOMAS HOBBES, born in 1588, at Malmesbury, in
England, pursued his studies at the University of Oxford.  His life was disturbed by the political dissensions which rent his country, and by the hostility his
own opinions awakened against him. The most cel.
ebrated of his writings is that which bears the title
of the Leviathan, by which name Hobbes designated
democracy. In his travels in France he formed relations of friendship with Gassendi and Father Mersenne, who made him acquainted with Descartes.
ile died in England in 1679.
Exposition.
fHoblbes expressly maintained that there is no




32           MODERN PILOSOPIHY.
thought which is not engendered by sensation.  Hef
joined to this principle some physiological considerations, the object of which was to explain physically
the nature of sensations.  He also deduced from it
a very incomplete essay of psychology, in which his
theory of reasoning deserves particular remark. Ac.
cording to him, all reasoning is reduced to seeking
either the whole by the addition of all its parts, or a
part by the subtraction of the rest; from whence it
follows that deduction and induction are only forms
of equation, which is the general process of the reason; or, in other terms, that all human cognitions
should be expressible in mathematical formulas, and
that everything which is not expressible in that way
has no reality, or, at least, no reality accessible to
our intelligence.  These consequences have been
drawn by modern materialists.
But it is chiefly in a moral and political point of
view that the theories of Hobbes should be examined.
In order to seize their connexion, it is necessary first
to take notice of two fundamental consequences
which he deduces from his principle concerning the
origin of knowledge.
The first, relative to the intelligence, is this: all
words which express the incorporeal, the infinitet
have no meaning for the human mind, because they
represent something not represented by sensations
They ought to be banished from philosophy as vain
phantoms. He admits, however, that in virtue of the
law of association, which unites the sensations, and
which leads the human mind to ascend from cause
to cause, we arrive at the idea of God as a physical
cause, although the whole notion of the divine nature
is absolutely intelligible.
The second consequence, relative to the will, is
that there exists no other motive to the will than sen



HOBBES.                  33
sations of pleasure and pain, or the complex notions
of happiness and misery which we form by generalizing our sensations.
In a word, sensation, or, to speak in the language
of Hobbes, sension, as passive, is the matter of the
intelligence; as active, the motive force of the will.
Now the desires, the appetites, by which each individual inclines to enjoyments, produces two general and opposite results. This desire is of right unlimited; for we cannot conceive it as limited in point
of right except by subordinating it to a moral law
which is not derived fiom sensations, and which for
that reason is chimerical, at least relative to man.
Every man has, then, naturally a right to everything;
he has the right to acquire everything he desires;
and as each individual cannot acquire everything,
possess everything, except at the expense of the happiness of others, it follows that men are naturally in
a state of war.  See the immediate consequence of
the law of enjoyment as the sole law ot man.
But, on the other hand, this state of war is de.
structive to security, enjoyment, and life.  Consequently, the desire of enjoyment urges man to come
out from this state. Now war resulting from the
absolute and reciprocal independence of individuals,
men cannot emerge from the primitive state of war
but by renouncing their independence, and by con.
stituting a public force whose will shall prevail over
all other wills. Hence the social condition, the state,
which may be established in two ways, because the
sovereign force may be established in the way of in.
stitution, as when it results from a free contract, or
in the way of acquisition, as when one or many individuals by violence compel other individuals to submit to their will; and, since the object to which hu.
inanity should tend, that is, the cessation of war, is




34           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
attained in the second case as well as in the first, the
state founded in a consent violently obtained is as
legitimate as the state founded in a free convention.
It results from all this that the desire of enjoyment,
although unlimited in point of right in a state of nature, must be limited in point of fact in a social state
in order to attain its end.  See the second consequence, which is a mediate consequence of the law
of enjoyment.
The theory of Hobbes supposes, then, radically a
state of contradiction, of opposition, of war, not only
between the individuals who compose mankind, but
also between the elements of human nature itself.
Setting out with the equality of rights, founded
solely upon the desire of enjoyment, Hobbes arrives
at the destruction of all liberty.  He lays down as a
principle absolute independence, and establishes as a
consequence absolute despotism; for the public force
in his system is nothing but despotism conceived in
its greatest strictness and extension.
In fact, the public force can be limited neither by
religious law, nor by moral law, nor by civil law.
It cannot be limited by religious law; religion relates to objects lying beyond the domain of human
intelligence: there can, therefore, be no other reason for preferring one kind of worship to another
than the public utility, which is determined by the
public force, which thus rules religion, and is not
ruled by it. The public force cannot be limited by
moral law. In the primitive state of war, every one
having a right to everything, there is neither justice
nor injustice, neither right nor wrong.  In the social
state morality is nothing but the public utility; and
here again it is to the sovereign public force it be.
tongs to decide what is just or unjust: give this rigIh
to individuals, and the public force is destroyed.  Fi




HOBBES.                  35
nally, it cannot be limited by civil law, since civil law
is nothing but an arrangement of means destined to
secure the observance of the law of justice as it is
arbitrarily understood and defined by the sovereign
public force. Thus the public force is bound by no
law whatever. It could not be limited in any de.
gree without falling again, at least partially, into the
state of war from which man emerged by society.
This is also the reason why the bad administration
of a state gives no right of overthrowing the govern.
ing force.
Such an overturn causes the state to retrograde to
the condition of war or the destruction of society,
and the worst social state is better than its destruction. Only it may happen that the public force falls
to dissolution; then the social compact is likewise dis.
solved, and men return of necessity to independence
and war in order to arrive again at a social state,
that is, to a universal and absolute submission to a
public force adequate to maintain the peace.
Hobbes blends with this theory maxims concerning
the necessity of faithfully observing agreements and
other obligations of justice and mutual benevolence.
He shows very clearly that society could not exist
but by the application of these maxims; but in his
system, which radically abolishes the idea of rights
and duties, we can find no conceivable root of any
obligation whatever.
Summarily, this system is social materialism.
This character is manifest even in the terms employ.
ed by Hobbes to define the notion of philosophy.
Setting out with sensations, he makes the sole object
of philosophy to be the study of bodies, which he
distinguishes into two classes, natural bodies and po.
litical bodies. Physics, taken in an extended sense,
becomes then the sole science, whose uni~versal in



36           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
strument is reasoning, reduced, as we have seen, to
mathematical processes.  In his political theories
Hobbes goes into one branch of that science which
modern materialists have called social physics.
GASSENDI.
Historical Notices.
PETER GASSENDI was born at a village of Provence
in 1592. He entered the ecclesiastical state, and
for some time was professor of philosophy and theology at the University of Aix.  He was afterward
appointed lecturer on mathematics at the Royal College of France, where his lectures attracted a nu.
merous audience. His works against the philosophy
of Aristotle and that of Descartes, as well as his
Syntagma philosophic Epicuri, and his book on the
Life of Epicurus, deserve particular attention. Gas.
sendi's learning swas very extensive and various.
He was the friend or the correspondent of most of
the learned men of his age. His relations with
Descartes were interrupted by a philosophical quar.
rel, but were renewed by a reconciliation. He died
in 1655.
Exposition.
Gassendi, whose mind had been nurtured by the
writings of Bacon, for whom he professed the liveliest
admiration, maintains, as Bacon did, that sensations
are the generative source of all human knowledge.
Consistently with this principle, he gave to the prim.
itive ideas the name of simple imagination, and composed a logic in which his theory of knowledge was
brought out. He reduced all intelligence to the per~
ception of facts furnished by sensation, and to the
comparison of facts by means of which the mind




GASSENDI.                 37
passes from singular to general notions. He had the
idea of a genealogical tree, representing the growth
of the human mind or the generation of ideas by
sensations, as the genealogical tree of Porphyry rep.
resents the formation of logical abstractions.
Setting out from logic, Gassendi divides his philos.
ophy into two branches, physics and morals. Like
Bacon, he excludes metaphysics in the ordinary sense
of the word.  He did not consider speculations con.
cerning God and the soul as derivable from a spe.
cial science such as metaphysics would be: accord.
ing to him, we arrive at these notions either by phys.
ics or morals.
His morals, which contains principles borrowed
from the system of Epicurus, which he endeavoured
to rectify in conformity with Christian views, is not
the most important portion of his works. He was
most of all occupied by physical theories.
Gassendi had remarked the little fruit for the prog.
ress of science which had been gathered from the
abstractions of the Aristotelian philosophy applied to
the study of the material world, and the obstacles
opposed by this inert mass of abstractions to the true
application of nature. Seeking to enlarge the path
which was to lead to a more satisfactory physics, he
undertook to throw out of the way these arbitrary
constructions, and, in order to attack them in their
basis, he made a severe criticism upon Aristotle,
though rendering him justice in some respects. But
to destroy is not to do everything; it behooved him
also to lay the foundations of a new physical philosopy. Already Bacon had recommended the doctrine
of Democritus concerning atoms as a luminous and
fruitful hypothesis: already some writers, as Sebas.
tian B'asson, Beauregard, Magnen, Sennert, had at.
tempted to revive this hypothesis. Gassendi brought
Ii.




38          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
forward the two principles of Epicurus, vacuum and
atoms, as the primary basis of any physical theory. But he guarded his orthodoxy by recognising
God as the creator and prime mover of the universe,
but the creation being taken for granted, he maintain.
ed that from the atomistic doctrine the explanation
of all phenomena could be deduced. His theory
concerning the vacuum, which was attacked by Descartes, implied the existence of something neither
spirit nor body, and which thus was excluded from
the two great categories within which, according to
the Cartesian philosophy, everything existing should
find a place. For the rest, the physical philosophy
of Gassendi had a general characteristic in common
with that of Descartes; for it was the latter who
said, " Give me matter and motion, and I will explain
the universe." Both of them founded a mechanical
philosophy, which must needs, in being developed, endeavour to refer to mathematical laws all phenomena, even the physiological phenomena which are the
manifestation of life.
Among the number of the disciples of Gassendi
are reckoned Michael Nuraeus in France, and Wal.
ter Charleton in England.
LOCKE. —-CONDILLAC.
Historical Notices.
JOHN LOCcKE was born in England, at Wrington, in
the county of Bristol, in the year 1632. After having studied medicine, anatomy, and natural history,
he conceived the plan of his Essay on the Human
Understanding, upon which he meditated for twenty
years, and which he published in 1690. Implicated
in the political quarrels of his country, he was sub.
jected to frequent loss of public offices and to perse



LOCKE.                  39
cutions until the revolution.  He wrote an Essay on
Civil Government, besides other writings upon religious and economical questions. In his religious belief he belonged to the Socinians. He died in 1704.
ETTIENNE BONNOT DE CONDILLAC, born at Grenoble
in 1715, and died at Beaugency in 1780, was preceptor
to the Duke of Parma, grandson of Louis XV. His
Essay on the Origin of Human Knowledge, his Treg.
tise of Sensations, and his Treatise of Systems, contain the bases and principal developments of his phil.
osophical theories.  His grammar and his logic
make part of a course of study which he composed
for the instruction of the prince whose education had
been confided to him.
Exposition.
The principle of sensualism laid down by Bacon
was particularly developed by Locke, who made it
the basis of his psychology. The Essay on the Hu-.
man Understanding relates to two capital questions:
1. The origin of ideas as modifications of the think.
ing subject; 2. The principle of knowledge, that is,
of the correspondence of ideas to objects.
I. Origin of ideas. Locke admitted two sources
of ideas, sensation, and reflection, which is the knowl.
edge the mind takes of its various operations.  All
ideas of things distinct from the thinking subject are
derived from sensation; all ideas of the modes of be.
ing, or operations of the thinking subject, the ideas of
perception, thought, doubt, belief, reasoning, knowledge,
will, are derived from reflection. This latter, though
different from sensation in that it does not refer to
an external object, has a fundamental characteristic
in common with sensation; for both of them imply
a feeling, a sentiment, and we may give to reflection
the name of internal sense as a denomination which




40           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
expresses at once its analogy with sensation and its
difference.
Ideas, in relation to things, may in turn be divided
into two classes: simple ideas, direct products of
sensation and reflection, and complex ideas, which
the understanding forms from simple ideas by com.
bining these primitive elements.
* Locke passes in review the principal ideas which
have been or may be considered as simple and ele.
mentary.
The idea of space is given us by sight and touch;
it is resolved at bottom into that of body.
The idea of time comes from the reflection of the
soul on the series of ideas which follow after each
other.
The idea of infinity, very obscure and purely neg.
ative, is resolved into the idea of number conceived
as indefinitely repeated by the mind.
The idea of personal identity from the union of
memory and consciousness, a union in virtue of
which we judge that such or such a past action was
done by the same being who actually represents it
himself.
The idea of substance cannot be a simple idea; it
is nothing but the collection or combination of sim.
ple ideas which we refer to a supposed subject. For
the rest we have no clear idea of what is called sub.
stance.
The ideas of cause and effect are derived both
from sensation and from reflection: from sensation,
inasmuch as they express a succession of phenome.
na, of which one constantly takes place after the
other; from reflection, because the idea of power is
principally furnished by the consciousness of our
own internal activity or our will.
The idea of right and wrong is radically nothing




LocKE.                  41
Aud the idea of happiness or misery attached to the
observance or infraction of a maxim proposed as a
law, that is to say, to the idea of reward or punish.
ment.
After having treated the origin of simple ideas,
Locke investigates the origin of complex ideas. iHe
undertakes to explain how, by combining simple
ideas, then by combining the results of those first
combinations, and so on to the end, the human mind,
out of some primitive elements, by means of the law
of association of perceptions, forms all the other
ideas of which it is possessed.
II. Locke passes then to the question concerning
the principle of knowledge, or the correspondence of
ideas to things. As language exerts a great influence in the formation of abstract ideas, and becomes
the occasion of very many errors, he first treats of
the relation of words to ideas, in order to discover
the illusions of which words are the source, and
comes then to the relation of ideas to things, or to
knowledge.
All knowledge depends upon the conformity of
ideas to their objects. To prove this conformity, it
would be necessary to confront the idea with its object; but, on the other hand, we know the object
only by the idea itself. Locke did not solve this difficulty; he merely took for granted that all simple
ideas are necessarily a representation of things.
Sensible ideas are the representation of the quali.
ties of bodies, as ideas produced by reflection are
the representation of the operations of the understanding. But, even if this were the fact, we could
know on the system of Locke only the qualities of
things, and never any substantial existence. To explain how sensations are representative, Locke re.
produces, under a different phraseology, the old hyI.-4




42           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
pothesis of images or sensible species, which, coming
from bodies, enter the human organism, and are
transmitted by the organs to the soul.
He inquires how our ideas can be representatives
of finite spirits; and as he cannot find in the ideas,
as he has conceived them, the principle of such a
representation, he concludes we can no more know
by our ideas the existence of finite spirits than we
can know the existence of fairies by the ideas which
we form of them.
He has recourse to a supernatural order of in.
struction in order to obtain certainty as to the exist.
ence of spirits. In the system of Malebranche, which
we shall presently analyze, the existence of bodies
cannot be proved by the idea of spirit and that of
the infinite. Now in the theory of Locke, the idea
of the infinite is nothing but that of indefinite num.
ber, and no idea is representative of spirit as spirit.
Consequently, there are no means of arriving logical.
ly at the idea of God, notwithstanding the efforts he
has made to avoid this consequence.
The theory of Locke was developed in France by
Condillac. These developments are of two sorts.
His analysis of the operations of the understand.
ing, as well as his analysis of language, contain a
multitude of considerations and observations in detail, which are modifications or complements more
or less ingenious of the views of the English philos.
opher. But they contain nothing fundamental for
the development of sensualism.
This is not the case with respect to the principle
of Condillac, according to which all ideas are nothing
but sensations transformed. Locke had admitted
two sources of ideas, sensation, and reflection, or the
consciousness which the soul has of its own opera.
tions. Condillac maintained, in the first place, that




CONDILLAC.                 43
ail operations of the soul are reducible to a single
one, namely, attention, which exists in various degrees and under various relations, and that reflection
is itself only a mode of attention. But what is at.
tention? According to Condillac, it is nothing but
the effect of a predominant sensation. Everything,
therefore, becomes resolved into a single element,
sensation. Thereby the unity of sensualism is constituted. Instead of two sources of ideas, there is
but one: instead of two states of the soul, passive in
sensation, active in reflection, the soul has but one
only mode of being; it is throughout passive. This
doctrine of Condillac had a more important influence
in the development of sensualism than all other parts
of his philosophy taken together. By this doctrine
sensualism attained, in point of ideology, its utmost
limit.
For the rest, the method followed by Condillac did
not correspond with the principles of his philosophy.
He pretended, on the one hand, to derive everything
from observation, and, on the other hand, he proceeded by hypothesis; endeavouring, by the hypothesis of
a statue endowed with the faculty of feeling, to explain
the origin of knowledge; and by the hypothesis of
two children abandoned in a desert, to explain the
origin of language.
Observations.
The radical vice of the theories of Locke and Condillac is in not conceiving that there are in the human
mind necessary, universal, and absolute ideas, of
which sensation cannot contain the principle.  This
has been shown by Reid, Stewart, and many others,
and especially, with great force, by Cousin in his review of the system of Locke.
These theories contain also a radical vice of meth.




4-4          MODERN PHILOSOPHIY.
od. They suppose man exercising first one of his
faculties, then another, and another.  But this is only
a factitious man, not real man. The intellectual life
implies the simultaneous working of several faculties,
very much as the organic life is conditioned by the
simultaneous working of many organs. There is in
both an intimate inward unity, which cannot be constructed piecemeal.
HELVETIUS.
CONDILLAC applied sensualism to ideology. Hel.
vetius (born at Paris in 1715, died in 1771), made application of it to morals. His whole theory may be
reduced to this enthymeme: there is in the sphere
of the intelligence nothing but sensations; there can
therefore be in the sphere of the will nothing but
pleasure or pain. The antecedent of this enthymeme was furnished by the dominant ideology. To
prove the consequent, he rested upon the incontesta.
ble principle that the will can act only upon elements
furnished by the intelligence. Now sensations, in
their relation to the will, are nothing more than
pleasure or pain.
The system of Helvetius contains two orders of
ideas. In as far as the object is to conclude from
the principles of sensualism to the morality of self.
interest, as being the only possible morality, Helvetius reasons very strictly: as a matter of deduction,
this part of his writings is logically unassailable.
But when he endeavours to find in this moral con.
ception the root of duties and of virtue, all the art of
sophisms is unable to conceal the enormous vice of
his theory.  The notion of virtue implies the subor.
dination of particular inclinations to a rule which
cannot be found in the mere sphere of enjoyment,
since the desire of enjoyment, taken by itself, aspires




DIHOLBACH.                 45
to exclude everything that would limit the gratifica.
tion of particular inclinations.
Doctrines analogous to those of Heivetius were
maintained by St. Lambert, and by many other moralists of the eighteenth century.
D HOLBACH.
THIS materialist, born in the Palatinate in 1723,
died at Paris in 1789.  He applied sensualism to a
theory of the universe, which he developed in his
book entitled the System of Nature.
Thought is but the faculty of feeling, and sensations correspond to nothing but sensible things. All
idea of spiritual beings is therefore destitute of any
basis.
The senses discover to us nothing in the universe
but matter endowed with certain properties and mo.
tion, which is essential to it, since matter is the only
existence.
All particular beings are nothing but the different
combinations which motion produces in matter.. The moving force is developed in various degrees:
besides the combination designated by the term rude
bodies, it produces also another combination which
constitutes organized beings, and, developing itself
still'farther, produces effective sensibility, which is
only the effect of a certain kind of organization.
All human actions are the necessary result either
of the internal motion of the organization, or of ex.
ternal motions by which they are modified.
From his cosmological theory D'Holbach deduces
consequences with respect to society fundamentally
analogous to the system of Helvetius.




46           MODERN PHILOSOPHIY.
HUME.
AWHILE sensualism was producing in France a selfish morality and an atheistic cosmology, David Hume
(born at Edinburgh in 1711, died in 1776) carried it
to its last consequences, and ended in skepticism.
All the modifications of the mind which are distinguished from sensations, and usually termed ideas,
judgments, etc., are, according to Hume, nothing but
sensations weakened by time or absence of the object, and, consequently, less certain than sensations
strictly so called. But even the latter are themselves
necessarily uncertain, because we have no rational
basis which authorizes us to affirm that they corre.
spond to their objects.
Although Hume attacked the certainty of all fundamental notions, his skeptical argumentation may
nevertheless be referred to three principal heads.
All judgments relative to the physical world rest
upon the notion of cause: all our judgments relative
to the moral world imply the notion of virtue and of
free-will: and, finally, every theory which would em.
brace at once the physical and the moral world in
order to explain their origin and to conceive their unity, implies the notion of a universal principle of all
being, or God.
1-Jumne undertook, setting out with sensualism, to
prove that these three fundamental notions, considered as objective cognitions, are nothing but hypotheses
or factitious ideas, destitute of any foundation in the
human mind.
In the physical world, experience shows us the re
lations of succession or simultaneousness in facts,
but it shows us nothing more.  Now, from the fact
that A coexists with B, we cannot conclude that one
depends upon the other; so, if B comes after A, we




fHUME.                  47
cannot any more conclude that A is the cause of B.
In a word, any affirmation of cause and effect goes
beyond the simple relations established by sensation,
which is the sole element of human knowledge; it is
the unreasonable pretension of extracting from that
primitive stock of the intelligence notions of which it
does not contain the germes.  But, at the same time,
if we renounce the idea of cause, all our judgments
respecting the physical world necessarily fall to
pieces. For, in the first place, we cannot begin in
the slightest degree to explain the phenomena of nature except by applying the idea of cause; and, in
the next place, it is by this idea, and by this idea
alone, that we can believe in the existence even of
bodies; we believe in them, in fact, only because we
consider them as causes of our sensations.
The notions upon which rest our judgments rela.
tive to the moral world have not a more real basis.
Limited necessarily within the sphere of sensations,
man can have no other reasonable motive of action
than the notion of his own personal interest; the
idea of virtue, on the contrary, implies something
distinct from selfishness; it has, therefore, no prin.
ciple in the intelligence. Virtue can proceed only
from a sentiment destitute of all rational motive, and
which Hume compares to taste; but as this senti.
ment, according to his system, has no foundation
which the reason can conceive, we come again on
this point to skepticism. And as to the idea of free.
will, we feel very clearly that we will, but we feel
nothing farther. Internal experience, which establishes the fact of volition, can teach us nothing in
regard to the origin of the fact which is attributed to
a free power. The notion of freedom is, besides,
contradictory; the free choice is not possible without
motives, and every determining motive is in the last




48           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
analysis only a stronger sensation, which necessarily
constrains the will.
Finally, the human mind is unable to ascend by
any legitimate exercise of its faculties to the notion
of a universal principle of beings. If we take
ground upon the elements furnished by sensation (and
this is all the ground we have to go upon), we can
arrive at the idea of God only by way of induction,
that is to say, by considering God as the cause and
the universe as the effect.  The notion of cause is
radically uncertain; and, even if it had any real validity within the sphere of facts of observation, it would
not follow that it must have the same validity when
transferred out of the sphere of human experience.
Hume applied the sensual philosophy to the history
of religious beliefs. Men originally adored only the
phenomena of nature, whose power appeared to them
terrible or beneficent.  From abstraction to abstrac.
tion, they have been transformed into gods; the hu.
man mind has formed beyond the visible world another world of its own invention.
SECTION II.
DESCARTES.
Historical Notices.
RfiNE: DESCARTES was born at La Haye, in Tou.
raine, in 1596. He embraced the military profes.
sion; but the life of the camp disturbed his meditations. After travelling in several countries of Eu.
rope, he retired to Holland to give himself up exclusively to the works he had planned. His great dis.
coveries in the mathematical and physical sciences
had already revealed his genius, when he published
his two principal philosophical works, his Discourse
on the Method of rightly conducting reason and inves



DESCARTES.                  49
-gating truth in the sciences, and his Meditations on
First Philosophy.  The partisans of the philosophy
of Aristotle, whom Descartes had vigorously attacked, did not always limit themselves to the use of the
weapons of discussion against him. V6et, professor
of theology in the Protestant University of Utrecht,
pursued him with atrocious calumnies. Christina,
queen of Sweden, offered him an asylum at Stock.
holm, where he ended his days in 1650. At the request of the ambassador of France, his mortal re.
mains were transported to Paris.
Exposition.
Descartes considered human science, and particu.
larly philosophy, as an effort of human reason to deduce from first causes rules for the conduct of life
and for the practical arts. Comparing the existing
science of his times with this ideal standard, he con.
cluded it was far from being conformed to it. On
one hand, there were principles grounded not in rea.
son, but in a blind confidence in the scientific tradi.
tions of the past; on the other, consequences which
often had no practical results; in a word, uncertain.
ty in its bases, barrenness in effects: such appeared
to him the fundamental vices of contemporary science.
He hence concluded the necessity of reconstructing
the edifice of human knowledge. He could not proceed in this reconstruction except upon the ideas of
others, or upon his own. To accept, by faith in another, the principles necessary to this great work,
would be to throw science into the very condition
from which he wished to rescue it. It was necessary, therefore, first of all to isolate himself from all
ideas received among men, and to retire into his own
thoughts. But these might themselves also be an
IT,-5




50           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
assemblage of errors, or, at least, a mixture of error
and truth. There would be no means of discrimina.
ting so long as he retained a single one of those ideas
as true, or conformed to reality; for the error might
be found in that very idea. It was requisite, therefore, in the second place, to isolate himself from all
his own ideas, that is, to hold them for doubtful, as
he had already held for doubtful the opinions of others. There remained, accordingly, nothing but doubt,
and he was forced to seek in it the principle of the
reconstruction of all human ideas.  " It is not to-day
for the first time that I have perceived in myself that
from my earliest years I have received a great many
false opinions as true, and that what I have built upon
principles so badly ascertained can be only very
doubtful and uncertain. And, accordingly, I have
decidedly judged that I must seriously undertake
some time in my life to rid myself of all the opinions
I had before taken upon trust, and begin altogether
anew from the foundation, if I would establish any.
thing firm and constant in science."
But doubt implies actual thinking, and actual thinking implies existence. I doubt, then I think; I think,
then I exist: thus man finds himself in the very act
of doubting. Here Descartes seized, or thought he
seized, in self-consciousness, a fact and a principle.
The fact was the doubting, the thinking, the exist.
ing: the principle was the relation of doubt to
thought, of thought to existence. He affirmed
thought as contained in the idea of doubting; he affirmed existence as contained in the idea of thinking;
the perception of these relations transformed itself
into this general principle: everything which is clear.
ly contained in the idea of a thing, may be affirmed
of that thing.
But hitherto Descartes had not advanced beyond




DESCARTES.                 51
his own inward consciousness, and here the question
was whether he could do so; whether, instead of possessing solely the knowledge of himself as a thinking
being, he could attain, by means of thought, to a
knowledge of realities external to himself. The
problem to be solved was this: To find an idea which
could not subsist as a conception of the mind without its object itself having also existence: an idea
which could be subjectively possible only as far as it
was objectively real. Descartes propounded the idea
of a supremely perfect being as the principle of the
connexion of the ideal and real. The idea of supreme perfection implies existence, since existence.s itself a perfection.  "If we ask, not in regard to a
Lody, but in regard to anything, whatever it may be,
which has in itself all the perfections which can be
together, whether existenice is to be reckloned among
them, we may at first, it is true, be in doubt about it,
because our mind, which is finite, not being accus.
tomed to consider them except separately, may not
)erhaps perceive at the first glance how necessarily
they are joined together. But if we carefully exam.
mne whether existence belongs to a being supremely
powerful, and what sort of existence, we shall find
ourselves able clearly and distinctly to know, first,
that at least possible existence agrees with him, as
well as with all other things of which we have in our.
selves any distinct idea, even those which are composed of fictions of our own mind: and next, because
we cannot think that his existence is possible, with.
out knowing at the same time-keeping in mind his
infinite power-that he can exist by his own force,
we conclude that he really exists, and that he has
been from all eternity; for it is very evident from
the light of nature that that which exists by its own
force exists always; and thus we shall know that




52           BIODERN PHILOSOPHY,
necessary existence is contained in the idea of a su.
premely powerful being, not by a fiction of the un.
derstanding, but because it belongs to the true and
immutable nature of such a being to exist; and it
will be easy for us to know that it is impossible for
this supremely powerful being not to have in himself
all other perfections that are contained in the idea of
God, in such sort that, of their own proper nature
and without any fiction of the understanding, they
are always joined together and exist in God." Thus,
just as I affirm my own existence, because its idea
is contained in the notion of thinking, so I affirm the
existence of the supremely perfect being, because the
idea of existence is contained in the very idea of such
a being. The existence of an external reality rests,
therefore, upon the same logical basis as the internal
reality.
In his third Meditation, which is the one where he
seeks to pass out from the consciousness of self to
God, Descartes endeavoured to demonstrate the ex.
istence of God, not from the internal characteristics
of the idea of the infinite, but from its external re.
lations, that is to say, by ascending from the idea to
the cause of the idea. He had said: My intelligence,
being finite, has not derived from itself the idea of
the infinite; every finite cause, of whatever sort, is
equally incapable of producing it; it must have been
produced in me by the infinite himself. But in his
Reply to the Objections brought against him, he insisted upon the proof deduced from the internal
characteristics of the idea of God. The first of
these proofs, the proof a posteriori, supposes, besides
the idea of the infinitely perfect being, the certainty
of the notion of cause; the proof d priori supposes
nothing more than the logical notion of the infinite.
T'hins proof was conceived by Descartes as only the




DESCARTES.                 53
sitnple affirmation of what is contained in that idea,
just as the principle, I think, therefore I exist, was
only the affirmation of what is contained in the idea
of thinking. The second act of the intelligence was
thus identical with the first; it was only a transformation of it. The proof (i priori agreed, therefore,
much better than the other with his fundamental pro.
cess of the reason; and, accordingly, it has prevailed
in the Cartesian philosophy.
We have seen what, according to Descartes, is the
necessary development of the mind contemplating
itself: this development is not complete except as it
implies God.  Without the notion of God, man might
suppose that even in his clearest ideas he is the sport
of an evil genius devoted to deceiving him, or, at
least, he could Trot find in his mind anything necessarily repugnant to such a supposition. But thought,
resolving itself in the last analysis into the idea of
the supremely perfect and supremely true being, excludes the possibility of such an external illusion,
just as primitively the idea of thinking, resolving itself into that of existence, excludes purely internal
doubt.
Descartes had thus arrived at the knowledge of an
external reality, the source of all reality, by applying
this principle: Everything which is contained in the
idea of a thing must be affirmed of the thing itself.
It was by carrying out the application of the same
principle that he arrived at the knowledge of all re.
alities.  But, as he was liable to make false applications of it, it was needful to inquire how man is led
into error, in order to avoid error in its cause. From
whence, then, comes error? Does it come from the
intelligence or from the will?  The intelligence pro.
duces ideas, and no idea can be false, because then
the idea of a thing would not contain what it con



54           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tained.  Error has not, then, its root in the inteili.
gence; it can have place only when man, by an act of
will, affirms what is not contained in ideas. "From
whence, then, spring my errors? from this alone, that
the will being more ample and extensive than the
understanding, I do not restrain it within the same
limits, but I extend it also to things I do not understand, in respect to which, being in itself indifferent,
it gets very easily astray, and chooses the false for
the true, the bad for the good; and thus I am led to
err and to sin." The general rule of human judgments is reduced, therefore, to keeping the will within the limits of the understanding.
Descartes believed he had ascertained by this se.
ries of processes, which he called methodical doubt,
the foundations of human certainty. This basis be.
ing established, he began to work at the construction
of the system of human knowledge.
Man finds in his consciousness two sorts of ideas:
the idea of thought, and the idea of extension. All
human ideas belong to these two categories; for all
other ideas, whether relative to what is called soul
or to what is called body, express, the first only pair'
ticular attributes of thought, and the second only par.
ticular attributes of extension.  And as these primary ideas are essentially distinct, he concluded that
the substances whose fundamental attributes are respectively thought and extension are themselves ne.
cessarily distinct. The world, then, comprehends two
classes of beings of different nature, spirits, and matter or bodies.  Thus reasoning, Descartes was led to
maintain that the essence of spirit is in thought, and.he essence of matter in extension; and this was one
of the fundamental principles of all his theories, which
thus fell into two divisions, the philosophy of spirits,
and the philosophy of bodies.




DESCARTES.                55
The theory of spirits comprehends that of God,
and of man so far as he is a thinking being. The
idea of God, implying unity, excludes divisibility and
extension. God is then a spirit, and not a body.
Sensation supposes a body: there is, therefore, no
sensation in God; he is pure intelligence and pure
will.
In regard to created spirits, the most remarkable
part of Cartesianism is its theory of innate ideas.
The intelligence possesses the idea of the infinite;
and as it is at the same time a finite intelligence, it
could not acquire this idea by its own operations, limited like itself. This idea, then, and all others which
are a derivation, a particularization of it, are not
acquired ideas: they are communicated to the mind
by the Creator; they are innate. Here Descartes
took the opposite extreme from Bacon, who regarded
the human soul as a tabula rasa, a blank surface.
Descartes did not, however, pretend that these ideas
were innate in the sense that they were constantly
present to the mind. " When I say that any idea is
born with us, or that it is naturally imprinted on our
souls, I do not mean that it is always present in
thought, for this would be contrary to fact; but only
that we have in ourselves the faculty of reproducing it."
Descartes maintained a great difference between
the mode of proving the existence of spirit and that
of proving the existence of body.  It is true that in
his system the divine veracity was the primitive and
general guarantee of human ideas in the sense re.
marked above. But, this guarantee being supposed,
we come to the conclusion that spirits exist by devel.
oping what is contained in the very notion of thought,
while, by developing the notion of extension alone,
we could not conclude the existence of bodies.




56           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
Thought implies in itself the existence of the thinking subject. But the notion of extension does not
imply necessarily the existence of an extended ob.
ject: it may be a simple modification of the mind.
To demonstrate the existence of bodies requires the
intervention of an element distinct from the idea; we
must rest upon the natural impulse which leads us to
believe in our sensations; this impulse or instinct
cannot itself be conceived as having the truth for its
end, except as an impulse from the author of our na.
ture.  The certainty of the existence of bodies de.
pends, therefore, upon the divine veracity, inasmuch
as it is the guarantee not only of our ideas, but of our
instincts, which amounts to saying that we only be.
lieve the existence of bodies, while we conceive the
existence of spirits.
Having in this way established the existence of
the corporeal world, Descartes made it the second
object of his speculations. Here is manifested a cor.
relation between his theory of spirits and his theory
of bodies. In the spiritual substance we distinguish
thought, which is essential; then will, which is in some
sort thought in motion. In the corporeal substance
we distinguish extension, which is essential, and then
motion produced in it. Physical philosophy is, then,
radically the theory both of the immutable properties
of extension and of the changeable properties which
depend upon motion. All explanations, therefore, of
material phenomena ought to be deduced from me.
chanics, resting on the basis of geometry.
Descartes applied his mechanical philosophy first
to the phenomena of the inorganic world. In his
metaphysics he had recognised God as the creator
of matter and the prime mover of the universe. God,
according to the remark of Pascal, appeared at the
head of the Cartesian cosmology only to give a jerk




DESCARTES.                 57
to the world at the beginning, and to set things ago.
ing. But, this done, mechanics was to explain all
the operations of nature. Thus Descartes banished
from physical theories all inquiries after final causes.
These inquiries, according to him, were presumption,
and a hinderance to the progress of science: presump.
tion, because the limited mind of man should not pre.
tend to discover the ends proposed by infinite intelli.
gence; an obstacle to the progress of science, be.
cause they diverted science from the observation of
efficient causes to plunge it in speculations concern
ing occult causes.
Descartes banished also the idea of space, in as
far as different from the idea of body.  The idea of
space is nothing but a modification of the idea of ex.
tension; and, as extension is the essence of bodies,
there can exist no space where body is wanting; in
other words, a vacuum is impossible. He rejected
also indivisible elements, called atoms; such an indivisibility is incompatible with the notion of exten.
sion, and extension cannot be composed except of
elements analogous to it. He held, consequently,
the infinite divisibility of matter, and, at the same
time, its unlimited extension.  To suppose the ma.
terial universe actually limited, would be to suppose
beyond those limits an infinite void, a thing contra.
dictory to the principles of his philosophy.
He deduced from his ideas concerning extension
and vacuum, combined with the general principles
of mechanics, his celebrated theory of vortexes, which
belongs to the history of physics. It has given way
to the theory of Newton concerning gravitation.
The vacuum, banished by Descartes, has reappeared
in the system of his rival.
Pursuing the development of his mechanical theory, Descartes applied it to organic beings. Animals




58           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
are nothing but automata destitute of any faculty of
feeling. The movements which they perform, how.
ever orderly they may be, do not prove, any more
than the motions of a chronometer, the existence of
a thinking principle in them; and as there is nothing
useless in nature, it would be unreasonable to suppose souls created merely to produce an order of phenomena which might exist without their intervention.
All the phenomena of organic life manifested in
brutes, and still more those manifested in vegetables,
may and should be referred to the laws of motion.
It is the same with the organic life of man: the sen.
sations and passions, without doubt, have their seat
in the spiritual principle, but their physical causes
fall under the general theory of mechanics applied to
the human organization.
If we cast a glance over the whole doctrine of
Descartes, we see that his philosophy relative to the
corporeal world is entirely separated from his philos.
ophy of spirits. He had placed at the origin of all
his theories two ideas, which were to contain all others, the idea of thought and the idea of extension.
As there existed in his system no connexion, perceived by the mind, between these two radical ideas, the
result was necessarily two orders of parallel speculations, which could never find any point of concurrence. How, then, was the action of the body upon
the soul, and of the soul upon the body, or, at least,
their mutual correlation, to be conceived? In this
point the philosophy of Descartes had a great defect;
many of his disciples, particularly Malebranche, en.
deavoured to fill up the chasm by the hypothesis of
occasional causes, of which we shall presently speak.




DESCARTES.                 59
Observations.
1. In regard to the philosophy of Descartes, we
ought to distinguish between the theories he put forth
and the impulse he gave to the human mind. Many
of his theories have been abandoned; but the im.
pulse communicated by Descartes in his resistance tU
the yoke of routine and the prejudices of the school.
men has always lasted.
2. The methodical doubt of Descartes has given
rise in these later times to long discussions concerning the basis and rule of human reason, to which we
shall return.
3. Most philosophers have sought for a certain
logical process by which to pass from the internal to
the external, from thought to outward realities. Descartes resolved this question by the process adopted
by St. Anselm at the earliest period of scientific organization in the Middle Ages.  The solidity of the
Cartesian theories depends fundamentally upon the
question what validity is to be attributed to the demonstration of the existence of the infinite from the
idea of the infinite.
4. In maintaining that thought is all the essence
of spirit, and that extension is all the essence of
matter, Cartesianism laid down the principle of a
radical divorce between the spiritual and physical
sciences.
5. By its theory of innate ideas Cartesianism was
a reaction against the sensualism of the English
philosophy of Bacon, and particularly against the
nominal philosophy of Hobbes. It has also furnished
powerful considerations in favour of the immortality
of the soul.
6. The pretension of reducing all the physical sciences to mechanical laws has not been favoured by




60           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
subsequent developments of those very sciences.
The progress of physiology, both animal and vegetable, has established that the phenomena of organic
life adhere primitively to very different laws.
7. Considered in respect to its principles and its
starting point, the philosophy of Descartes excited
the observation of internal facts, as the philosophy
of Bacon excited the observation of external facts.
The latter was the flowing outward of thought towards sensations, the former was the flowing back of
thought upon itself. Modern psychology was born
of Cartesianisnm.
MALEBRANCHE.
Historical Notices.
NICHOLAS MALEBRANCHE, born at Paris in 1638,
entered the congregation of the Oratory. The reading of Descartes's Treatise on Man determined his
philosophical vocation, which he embraced with en.
thusiasm. He published successively his Search af.
ter Truth; Christian Conversations; Christian and
Metaphysical Meditations; a Treatise of Morals;
Dialogues on Metaphysics and Religion; which drew
the attention of the most distinguished men of Europe. He had controversies to maintain with Arnaud, Bossuet, Father Lamy, and Regis. His labours ended only with his life. The contemplative
genius of Malebranche led him to seek for peaceful
seclusion. This Christian Plato loved to meditate
under the shade of the beautiful trees of the college
of Juilly, where his memory is still fresh.
Exposition.
The whole structure of Malebranche's philosophy
rests upon the distinction between ideas and senti.




MALEBRANCHE.                61
ments. The philosophers who had most insisted on
the dualism of the human mind had confined them.
selves for the most part to opposing sensations to
ideas. Malebranche dug deeper into this dualism;
he remarked that the element opposed to ideas, or, at
least, essentially distinct from them, had a character.
istic peculiar to itself, independently of the various
causes which might produce it; that this element
consists in the sentiment which informs the soul of
its modifications, whatever might be the origin, internal or external, of the sentiment itself.
Ideas are the sight, the vision of the mind. Now
non-being, having no properties, is not visible. To
see nothing and not to see anything are the same
thing. Ideas are, then, only the vision of something
which exists; an idea is, therefore, not a simple mod.
ification of the soul, but the manifestation of an ob.
ject really existing out of the soul.
It is not so with the sentiments. Thereby the
mind conceives nothing; it is only made aware of
its actual state, without explaining, without compre.
hending it; sentiment is nothing but a confused echo
of a simple modification of the soul.
The subjects of ideas are eternal, immutable,. ne.
cessary; either they do not appear to the mind, or
they appear in that character. Sentiment corre.
sponds only to modifications which might or might
not be.
It follows from these principles that everything of
which we have an idea exists, and it is in vain to object that we have frequently an idea of things which
do not exist. This objection rests upon a confusion
of ideas with sentiments; and, in order to make it
clear, let us take two examples, one in the moral
x'orld, the other in the purely physical world.
In the first place, I imagine a man performing a




62           MODERN PHILOSOPHIY.
good and just action.  If that man really existed, I
could not be made aware of his existence and of his
action but by my sensations, or, in the last analysis,
by simple modifications of my own soul. In repre.
senting to myself that action which does not actually
exist, I remain, therefore, in the domain of sentiment,
I do not enter into that of ideas.  The object, the
sole object of the idea, is not the action, but the good
quality of the action; and this quality is nothing but
a particularization of what the mind conceives as an
eternal reality, namely, justice or rectitude.  By the
idea I see what is; in the way of sentiment my soul
is modified without any object of that modification
existing.
Consider next the notions which we form of what
is called the world of bodies. Everything which the
mind therein conceives is reduced to relations of figure, and all relations of figure are resolvable into the
general idea of extension, which particularizes itself
in such or such a figure. This intelligible extension
is very different from actual extension.  The latter
is determinate, limited; the former is conceived as
infinite, since it contains all possible figures; but, although purely intellectual, it is supremely real, since
it is infinite, and all the relations of figures which
subsist in it are immutable and necessary. But if
we have the idea of intelligible extension, we have
only the sentiment of actual and determinate extension. Sounds, colours, in a word, everything that
does not fall within the relations of figures, make no.
thing conceived by the mind, but only apprize it that
it experiences such or such a sensation by occasion
of a body which it believes to exist. This being es.
tablished, when we represent to ourselves an object
which does not really exist, what do we see? Our
mind sees the figure which we attribute to it, and its




MALEBRANCHE.                63
relations with other figures; now all this exists real.
ly in, the intelligible extension.  As to the colours
and other analogous properties which we give it in
imagination, they express not the objects of ideas, but
the objects of our sentiments; and, although the ob.
ject of our sentiments does not exist, the object of
our ideas subsists none the less. Everything which
is relative to sentiment may or may not be; but here,
as before, we can conceive of nothing which has not
existence.
Setting out with this theory, we must conclude that
philosophy rests only on the connexion of ideas.
Wherever this connexion is broken, wherever ideas
fail and give way to sentiment, the mind remains in
darkness. The philosopher should therefore seek
for an idea to which he can attach by indissoluble
bonds the whole chain of human ideas.
After the example of Descartes, Malebranche pla.
ces the principle of science in the idea of God, or of
the infinitely perfect Being. On the one hand, this
idea implies the existence of its object; and, on the
other, the idea of the infinite contains all other ideas,
which can never be anything but particular aspects
of the one universal idea of being. And as the idea
of self, of the me, which is the starting-point of phi.
losophy, is finite, it follows that the finite' coexists
with the infinite. From hence the idea of creation,
since the notion of the finite does not imply that of
necessary existence.
The universe is the most perfect which could ex.
ist. God, contemplating all possible worlds, could
not have wished to realize a less perfect world in
preference to a world in which the divine perfections
would be more completely reflected.  For there
could be no reason for preferring the less to the more
perfect, and choice without reason would be contrary




64           MODERN PHIILOSOPHY,.
to the divine wisdom. But it should be remarked
that the perfection of the world supposes that God,
who is the sovereign power and the sovereign wis.
dom, acts by laws the most general and simple, just
as finite agents act according to laws as much less
simple and as much less general as they themselves
are less wise and powerful. Placing ourselves in
this point of view, we conceive how that which we
take for imperfection in the work of the Creator is
inherent in the very perfection of his work. These
apparent imperfections are a sequence of the most
general, that is, the most perfect laws; and the world
is better with its general laws, spite of their particular inconveniences, than it would be by the suppression of the inconveniences, involving, as it would, the
destruction of general laws.
But of what beings is the universe composed? Do
there exist spirits and bodies? Does there exist even
a difference of nature between spirits and bodies?
The idea of body or of matter resolves itself into
that of actual extension.  Is extension a substance
or a mode?  We cannot think of a circle or a square
without thinking of extension; squareness and roundness are therefore only modifications of extension.
But we can think of extension without thinking of
anything else; it is, therefore, not a simple mode, it
is a substance. Now the idea of extension does not
imply that of thought: consequently, matter, whose
essence is extension, must be, if it really exist, a sub.
stance essentially different from the thinking sub.
stance or spirit.
This distinction being established, it is clear that
God, in creating the world, was behooved to give birth
to a world of spirits. For he produces that which
is most perfect; and beings capable of thinking, that
is, of knowing and loving, are evidently of a nature




MALEBRNCHE.                65
superior to that of body.  Thus the existence of spirits is contained in the very idea of creation.
But does the connexion of ideas lead us equally to
acknowledge the existence of bodies? In the first
place, we conceive no necessary connexion between
the impressions which are called sensations and the
existence of. external objects, since God, by the efficacy of his infinite power, might produce these same
impressions if the corporeal world did not exist.  If
these impressions, considered in themselves, do not
prove its existence, we must go higher; we must, as
Descartes has done, combine the natural instinct
which leads us to believe in the testimony of our
senses with the veracity of God. But here again
the chain of ideas is broken, when we wish to make
it result in the existence of bodies.  Without doubt,
the veracity of God would be an infallible guarantee
of our sensations, if the instinct which leads us to refer our sensations to external objects was really invincible. But it is not: God furnishes us with a
means of resisting this impulse, and this means is
the possibility conceived by us of sensations as con.
stant and as uniform without the intervention of bodies as with their intervention.  Malebranche coneludes, therefore, that the existence of bodies cannot
be known with certainty except by revelation.
The objection has been made to this last opinion
that it is reasoning in a circle, since revelation itself
supposes faith in the senses which attest the facts im.
plied in the idea of revelation.  But the partisans of
the philosophy of Malebranche contend that it avoids
this paralogism.  Even if bodies do not exist, still
we must always admit that the sensible impressions
respecting revelation are produced in us by divine
power. Now it would be repugnant to the wisdom
of God to produce such a system of appearances, if
II.-6




66           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
these appearances did not actually contain a div~ine
revelation. This laid down, it would, they say, be
indeed a vicious circle to conclude the existence of
bodies from revelation, and revelation from the exist.
ence of bodies.  But this is not the case.  From
sensible appearances, whether the phenomena are or
are not connected with real bodies, we conclude the
existence of a divine revelation on the ground of the
divine wisdom, Then, hearkening to the divine word,
without pretending to know beforehand whether bod.
ies have a substantial existence or not, we learn that
it expressly teaches their existence. Thus we rec.
ognise, upon the authority of revelation, that our sen.
sible impressions do correspond to external objects
called bodies; and we have admitted revelation by
merely combining the fact of sensible impressions
with another term, to wit, the divine wisdom.
But if the universe is composed of two sorts of
beings-of spirits, whose existence is demonstrated,
and of bodies, whose existence is revealed-the general notion of the universe depends upon the idea we
form of the relations that exist between these two
parts of creation. Are they independent of each
other, or do they reciprocally act upon each other?
It is a fact, that when my soul wills it, a motion is
produced in my arm, and by my arm in other bodies which it displaces. It is a fact, also, that sensa.
tions spring up in my soul as if they were a result of
the action of the bodies that surround ne.  But the
thinking substance and the extended substance are so
essentially independent of each other, that it is impossible to admit that the one should produce a modification of the soul, which is a spiritual effect, and that
the other should produce a material effect, such as
motion. This reciprocal action is therefore only
apparent; the correlation which exists between mind




MALEBRANCHE.                 67
fnd body results from the general laws established
by the Creator, according to which he himself pro.
duces both the motions of body by occasion of volitions of the soul, and the impressions or sensations
of the soul by occasion of the presence of bodies.  In
both cases God alone is the real and immediate cause
of these effects; spirits and bodies are nothing but
occasional causes.
From the general notion of the universe he pass.
es to the theory of mind and body, to psychology and
to physics.
The general principle of physics is that all bodies
are homogeneous, since extension, which is their essence, is the same in all. Material phenomena are
nothing but differences in the external form of bodies,
and in the configuration of the insensible particles of
which they are composed, or differences in the rela.
tions of distance. All changes which take place in
bodies are consequently produced by motion, which
modifies both the external or internal form of the
bodies, and the relations of distance which exist be.
tween them. And as matter or extension implies
no idea of motion, all the motions of nature are an
immediate and permanent impulse of divine power,
which acts conformably to sovereign wisdom, according to laws the most simple and general. That
which is called the concussion of bodies is not the
real cause of the communication of motion, it is only
the occasional cause.
The theory of spirits is divided into two parts: the
one treats of the intelligence, the other of the will.
The intelligence, as has been said, lives and sub.
sists only in ideas, and ideas are the divine essence.
It follows from this, first, that we see everything in
God, even the corporeal world. For that which we
really see in material nature is the intelligifle nfit.




68           MIODERN PHlILOSOPHY.
nite, necessary extension, which is God himself; the
rest is not the object of the vision of the mind.  We
do not really see it, we feel it; and the obscure sen.
timent attests only the modifications of our soul.
It follows, in the second place, that intelligence is
a perpetual revelation. Ideas not being in us, but
out of us, it is God who produces them in our mind.
But he does not produce them except by occasion of
the attention which we will to bestow upon them.
Thus God is the efficient cause of ideas; the attention of man is the occasional cause.
It follows, in the third place, that progress in
knowledge depends upon the strength of attention;
and, as this-power is limited, as well as the capacity
of the soul, in order to derive from it the greatest ad.
vantage possible, we ought to withdraw it from the
dark region of sentiment, and to concentrate it upon
the luminous region of ideas.
It follows, lastly, that error results only from the
confusion of ideas and sentiments. It is an attempt
to transform a sentiment into an idea, or to degrade
an idea to the condition of a sentiment.
This theory of the intelligence leads to a corre.
sponding theory of the will.  As God is at once the
cause and the object of our intelligence, so he is at
once the cause and object of our love.  Our invin.
cible love of good in general is nqthing but an impulse of the love with which God loves his own nature or the immutable order of the universe, just as
our knowledge of the true is nothing but a communication of the ideas by which he knows himself.
Our particular, desires are the occasional cause of
the good that is done by [in] us, just as our attention
is the occasional cause of the light which enlightens
our soul.
But, as we can turn our attention from the contem.




MALEBRANCHE.                 69
plation of ideas, to wander and dissipate it in the
shadows of sentiment, so we can pervert our desires
from the immutable world represented by ideas, to
fasten them  in a sort upon the series of false judgments which sentiment leads us to pass. When we
search for truth in our own mere modes of feeling,
it is error; when we seek there for good, it is vice.
In a word, everything that there is positive and
substantial in love or the emotion of the soul, is produced by God: we produce, not that love in itself,
but only good or bad applications of that love.
Resuming the foregoing principles, we comprehend
both the nature of man and the duties that flow from
it. God is, by his power, the efficient cause of all
motions executed by the body; our will is only the
occasional cause.  In this first relation, our funda.
mental duty consists in regulating our motions according to clear ideas, as God regulates his activity
according to a clear view of all things. God is, by
his intelligence, the efficient cause of all our ideas;
our attention is only the occasional cause. In this
second relation, our fundamental duty is to concentrate our attention upon ideas, and to consult them
perpetually.  God is, by his love, the efficient cause
of ours, or of our inclination to happiness; our desires
are only the occasional cause of our participation in
happiness. In this relation our duty is to connect our
desires with ideas, just as the Holy Spirit is united to
the Word.
Malebranche endeavoured in many ways to combine his philosophical theories with Christianity.
From his doctrine of optimism he concluded that
the incarnation of Christ was a necessary condition
of the perfection of the creation itself.  Without this
intimate union of God with humanity, and through
humanity with nature, the world would not have been




70           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
as perfect as it could be; it would not have been
worthy of God, since God cannot prefer the less
perfect to the more perfect.
From his theory of ideas and sentiments he con.
eluded that the propensity which inclines men to
look rather to liveliness of sentiment than to clear.
ness of' ideas was the indication of a profound disorder in his being; a disorder which supposes an original fall, with which is connected the doctrine of redemption.
From the principle that the divine wisdom, choosing always the most perfect means, must act by laws
the most simple and general, he inferred that the
laws by which grace was distributed corresponded
to the laws of the creation. He recognised in nature the symbols of the supernatural world.
Observations.
1. Malebranche endeavoured to imprint upon his
philosophy the characteristics of simplicity and unity
which God had, in his view, given to the laws of
creation. All parts of his system, which is very
fruitful in varied applications, refers to some general
principles with which they were in his view strictly
connected. The unity of his conceptions is even
more remarkable than their extent.
2. His theory of ideas is in many respects a reproduction of that of Plato. But he made it his own
by his profound analysis of ideas and sentiments; by
showing that if ideas are the vision of the infinite
being, participated by creatures, sentiments are the
consciousness of their limits.  By the theory of intelligible extension he wished to fill up a chasm in
Platonism which did not explain how the physical
universe could be the object of ideas. The system
of the vision of all things in God crowned that ele.
vated psychology.




BERKELEY.                 71
13. The philosophy of Malebranche runs into ideal.
ism, in the same sense that it excludes from the do.
main of rational speculation the notion of the exist.
ence of bodies. This notion is rested neither upon
a natural belief nor upon a philosophical demonstration.  It results, on the other hand, from his theory
of intelligible extension, that we see everything in
the corporeal world except bodies.  It results also
from his system of occasional causes, that, properly
speaking, we do not even feel bodies which are not
represented as acting in any way upon the soul.
4. Malebranche has been reproached with having
wished to establish that God is the only being really
active; from whence it has been concluded that his
philosophy contains the germes of pantheism. But
it should be observed that he maintains an activity
of creatures, which is to the divine activity what the
substance of creatures is to the divine substance.
Finite activity supposes infinite activity, as finite existence supposes the finite.
5. The philosophical style of Malebranche is a
model of clearness and modest elevation.  A serene
light is diffused over all his writings.  No metaphysician has conceived things in a manner more intellectual, and none has expressed them in a manner
more enlivened by sensuous imagery.
BERKELEY.
GEORGE BERKELEY, bishop of Cloyne in Ireland,
was born in 1684.  He died in 1753.  His principal writings are, The Principles of IHuman Knowl.
edge, Dialogues of Iflylas and Philonous.
The idealist doctrine of Berkeley destroys the existence of the corporeal world. We can know sub.
stances only by the qualities inherent in them. Now
toere exists no quality which we can con-eive as in



72           M ODERi  PrHILO SOPITY.
herent in a corporeal substance.  There exist two
species of qualities called sensible: primary qualities,
reducible to extension, and secondary qualities, such
as colour, odour, savouer, etc.  The Cartesian philos.
ophy has demonstrated that the secondary qualities
do not exist in the bodies, but in us; that they are not
properties of an external object, hut modifications of
the internal principle of the soul. Now, according
to Berkeley, we ought to pass the same judgments
concerning the primary qualities or extension. He
maintains. that all the arguments by which it is proved
that odour, colour, etc., do not reside in the bodies,
apply equally to extension, the notion of which besides contains, according to him, contradictions which
cannot be removed except by considering extension,
not as an entity, but a simple conception.  And as
we know matter only by extension, Berkeley concluded that the material world is. only phenomenal, and
that there exists nothing but spirits.  He believed
that he had found in this doctrine the means of de-.
stroying in their very foundations the materialist systems to which the empirical philosophy of Locke had
given rise in England, and which were already
threatening the subversion of the whole moral: order.
SPINOZA.
BE-NEDICT SPINOZA was born at Amsterdam  in
1632, and died in 1677.  He had been brought up ir
Judaism, which he renounced to embrace opinions
destructive of all religious belief. He revived material pantheism.
Many writers, and even Leibnitz himself, have
pretended that Spinozism was born of Cartesianism.
It has been noted that Spinoza commenced his career
of metaphysical speculation by an exposition of the
Cartesian philosophy;  that he was at first nuroret'e




SPINOZA                  73
in that philosophy; and that he afterward developed
his system of pantheism with a great parade of terms
and notions borrowed from the logic and ontology of
Descartes. But from his use of those notions it
does not follow that he deduced from them correct
consequences.
It has been pretended, also, that the definition of
substance given by Descartes contains necessarily
the foundations of Spinozism. Descartes had said
that a substance is that which needs nothing else in
order to its existence: from which it seemed to result, that all finite beings, having need of God in order
to exist, could be conceived only as simple attributes
of the sole substance or of the divine Being, who alone
exists independently of any other thing. The Cartesian philosophers have, however, explained the definition of substance in a very different sense from
that which Spinoza attributed to it. They said that
a substance is that which has no need of anything
else as the subject in which it resides, tanquam sub.
jecto; but that a substance may have need of some.
thing else as its principle and cause, tanquam principio et cause.  This distinction presupposed, it follows
indeed that God is the only complete and absolute
substance, since in no respect, under no relation, has
he need of anything else; but it also follows that
finite beings, although they have need of God as their
principle and cause, may be substances, incomplete
to be sure, but real, since they are conceived as subjects of attributes, and not as simply attributes of a
subject.
It was this very distinction that Spinoza under.
took to destroy by using other principles maintained
by the Cartesian philosophy.  He pretended that the
principles which Descartes had employed to demonstrate the existence of two distinct substances, spirit
PII



74           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
and matter, led, on the contrary, to the conclusion of
the absolute identity of substance, in the sense that
all particular beings could be conceived only as attributes of a single subject. The Cartesian definition rested on the distinction between substance and
cause; it implied that there existed, or might exist,
not only substances, subjects of attributes, but a sub.
stance, the productive cause of other substances.
Now, according to Spinoza, this production is contradictory. For either the substance which produces
and the substance produced have different attributes,
or they have the same attributes.  If they have dif.
ferent attributes, we cannot conceive that one should
be the cause of the other, since a cause cannot pro.
duce what it does not contain.  If, on the contrary,
they have the same attributes, they are not distinct.
How, in fact, did Descartes prove that mind and mat.
ter are distinct? On this ground alone, that thought,
the attribute of the one, is not extension, the attri.
bute of the other. You cannot, then, said Spinoza,
affirm the distinction of the substances, except on the
ground of the distinction of their attributes; and,
therefore, if the substance which you suppose creative and the substance which you suppose created
have the same attributes, they cannot be two differ.
ent substances.
All the arguments of which Spinoza availed himself to establish his fundamental principle are only
developments, under very complicated and some.
times not very intelligible forms, of the dilemma to
which we have just reduced his reasoning. Bayle
has made the observation that this dilemma did not
demonstrate what Spinoza desired to demonstrate.
It follows from it, says Bayle, that two substances
which have the same attributes are not different spe.
cifically; but it does not follow that there cannot ex



SPINOZA.                  75
ist with the same attributes two substances individually or numerically distinct. This observation applies to the second part of Spinoza's dilemma; and
as to the first part of it, that if the cause must con.
tain everything that is in the effect, it does not follow
that it must contain it in the same manner or under
the same mode; that the infinite cause may contain
pre-eminently, that is, under a perfect or infinite
mode, that which it communicates to the effect under
a finite mode; and, accordingly, though created substances should have the same attributes as the substance which produced them, in the sense that they
are found pre-eminently in the latter, they have, nevertheless, attributes essentially different, in the sense
that what is imperfect in them is perfect in their
cause.
After having endeavoured to establish that all the
various realities can be known only as attributes of
a sole substance, Spinoza inquires into the nature of
that substance, whether material or spiritual.  We
must judge of the nature of a substance by its attributes. Now, according to the philosophy of Des.
cartes, there exist but two fundamental attributes, extension and thought; and, by the admission of the
Cartesians, extension supposes a material substance.
Appropriating their arguments on this point, and rejecting the arguments by which they inferred the existence of spirit from the existence of thought, Spinoza pretended that thought, like extension, could be
only a property of the material substance, existing
simultaneously under these two attributes.
From this ontology Spinoza deduced a multitude
of consequences, which he applied to psychology, to
morals, and to politics.
In psychology he considered intelligence and will
as simply modifications of the organism.




76           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
In morals he radically destroyed the notion of
right and wrong, as incompatible with a system
where everything is identical, where everything that
happens is a necessary result of the energy of the
sole substance.
In politics he maintained also, very consistently,
that everything which is commonly designated by
the name of rights is reduced to the notion of force.
It followed, indeed, from his moral doctrine, essen.
tially allied to his metaphysical doctrine, that justice
relatively to each being can be conceived only as the
measure of his power, since, in order to conceive it
under any other notion, we must return to the ideas
of an obligatory divine law and of free-will: two
things evidently excluded by his fundamental principle.
Spinoza thus reached, as the last consequence of
his principles, the same monstrous maxims to which
Hobbes had arrived by an opposite route. The Eng.
lish philosopher set out from the diversity of human
individuals as naturally hostile: the Dutch Jew start.
ed from their absolute identity. The one excluded
from the social theory the notion of the infinite ele.
ment, the principle of moral obligation; the other excluded the notion of finite beings, subjects of these
obligations; and both constructed the politics of
force, which transformed itself in the system of
Hobbes into pure despotism, in the system of Spi.
noza into pure anarchy.
LOGIC. —-CRITICAL. SKEPTICISM.
BESIDES the theoretical results of the impulse given
to philosophy by Descartes, we should also notice
here two other sorts of philosophical exertion put
forth in opposite directions, the Port Royal logic,
and the critical skepticism of Bayle, who was born




SKEPTICISM.                77
in the old county of Foy in 1647, and died in Holland in 1706.
The logic of the Port Royal is a combination of
the principles of Descartes with those of Aristotle.
It furnishes the art of demonstration by taking foI
granted, as the rule of all legitimate employment of
artificial logic, the fundamental processes upon which
Cartesianism made all certain knowledge of truth to
depend.-The critical labours of Bayle were intended, on the contrary, to shake the certainty of human
knowledge, and take away all confidence in demon.
strations, by bringing forward upon the most impor.
tant questions contradictory arguments. His captious dialectics respected none of the truths upon
which religion and morality rest. In this skeptical
point of view he did not spare the Cartesian philosophy, of which he had at first been a partisan.
[It should be added, that the speculations of Des.
cartes and Malebranche were also combated by
skepticism in an entirely different spirit from that of
Bayle-a skepticism employed in the interest of re.
vealed religion.
In France, La Mothe le Vayer had denied the existence of any rational principle as the basis of religious truth, and maintained the principle of faith,
implanted by divine grace, as the ground of religious
knowledge. His disciples, Sorbiere and Foucher,
propagated skepticism in the same spirit, and opposed the philosophy of Descartes and Malebranche.
In England, Joseph Glanvill, who died in 1680,
likewise advanced the principles of skepticism in
relation to science, in order to limit the pretensions
of dogmatic speculation.
Jerome Hirnhaym, doctor of theology at Prague,
who died in 1679, gave also a religious tendency to




T78          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
skepticism.  He declaimed with much talent against
the vanity and ignorance of speculative philosophers.
He admitted no axiom of reason that might not be
nullified by revelation. The sole grounds of certain knowledge were divine revelation, supernatural
grace, and inward illumination by God's spirit. In
practical morality he deduced from his skepticism an
extravagant asceticism.
At this period skepticism was quite generally employed, from pious intentions, by learned Romanists,
in order to bring back Protestants to the Church.
SUPERNATURALISM.-MYSTICISM.
THE consequences of the empiricism of Hobbes
on the one hand, and of the speculative rationalism
of Descartes and Malebranche on the other, excited
also a reaction in the direction of supernaturalism
and of mysticism, though divine revelation, as the
source of philosophical truth, was held in a less re.
stricted sense than by the writers just mentioned.
Theophilus Gale, who died in 1677, maintained
that true philosophy was contained originally in the
word of God addressed to his people, and since then
revealed to other nations at different epochs and in
various ways.*
Ralph Cudworth, who was born in 1617 and died
in 1688, adopted the same opinion, but applied it with
much greater originality to the defence of religion
against materialism and atheism. In his profound
and learned work on the Intellectual System of the
Universe, he gave demonstrations of the existence of
God and of creation out of nothing. He maintained innate ideas in the sense of Plato, and derived
therefrom a proof of the divine existence.  Rejecting
Malebranche's theory of occasional causes, in order
* Theoph. Gale, Philosophia Universalis, Lond., 1676 Aula
Deorum Gentilium, Lond., 1676.




CUDWORTH.                 79
to explain the forms of things and the reciprocal in.
fluence of mind and matter, he framed the hypothesis of a plastic nature, a spiritual but unintelligent
principle.  This is nothing but Plato's soul of the
world, distinct from God and an instrument of God.
He adopted this hypothesis in order to oppose, on the
one hand, the doctrine of blind chance in the creation and changes of the world, and the doctrine of
mechanical necessity, and on the other, the notion
of immediate and perpetual creation on the part of
God. He censured Descartes for banishing from
physics the consideration of final causes.
Against the moral system of Hobbes he wrote his
Treatise concerning eternal and immutable Morality.
In this treatise he taught that our ideas of good
and evil are not communicated either by sense or
experience; we neither acquire them from instinct,
nor by deducing from instinct the notion of our greatest good. Reason instantly conceives them, from a
contemplation of human actions, as absolutely as it
conceives the idea of cause from the contemplation
of events, or of space from that of bodies. We do
not deduce the idea of cause from that of an event
perceived, though the latter is the occasion of the
former; neither do we deduce the ideas of good and
evil from actions perceived; actions are the occasion
of awakening the ideas, which, when once conceived,
become universal, being immediately apprehended by
reason. These ideas come frorm the divine mind,
which is their proper, eternal home, and of which
human reason is an emnanation. These ideas are
latent in our minds till external occasions awaken
them. Here also is the doctrine of Plato. Cudworth reproduced it in order to prove that our moral
ideas have not the relative character supposed in the
system of Hobbes. Actions are not good on account




So           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
of their relation to our sctsitive nature, and there.
fore transient and contingent. The idea of good is independent of every particular act and of every indi.
vidual being.  It is as eternal and immutable as the
Deity. Our reason does not create it, but necessarily conceives it.  With the idea of good is associated
the idea of obligation; and this idea is equally im.
mutable. Finally, the idea of good is simple and indefinable.
Henry JMore, who was born in 1614 and died in
1687, addicted himself more particularly to the doctrines of the New-Platonists. He wrote likewise an
apology for the Cabala.  He held intellectual intuition as the source of all philosophical knowledge,
and maintained that all the true and legitimate notions which philosophy possesses proceeded from a
divine revelation. He attempted to establish the ex.
istence of an immutable space, distinct from all mu.
table matter, as the principle of all life and all mo.
tion, both in the spiritual and material world.  Reality consists in extension. God himself, in his being and absolute substance, is space. The human
soul and the soul of animals are simple and yet extended. In morals, the science of living wisely and
happily, he combines the principles of Plato and Aris.
totle.
Samuel Parker, a contemporary of Cudworth and
More, who died in 1688, likewise attacked with severity the doctrines of Descartes, particularly his atomistic physics and his proof of the divine existence.
John Pordage (born about 1625, died in 1698, at
London) wrote expressly in favour of mysticism, and
attempted to reduce the theosophic extravagances
of Jacob Bcehme to a system, pretending to have
learned the truth of those ideas by a special revela.
tion.  His disciple, Thomas Bromley, propagated his
opinions.




LEIBNITZ.                 81
To these names may be added that of Richard
Cumberland (born in 1632, died in 1718), who in a
more philosophical way attempted to refute the prin.
ciples of Hobbes, particularly in relation to morals.
He endeavoured to establish the fundamental truths of
morals independently of revelation and by the meth.
od of observation. He maintained disinterested vir.
tue in opposition to the selfish system of Hobbes.
But he did not, like Cudworth, attribute our moral
ideas to reason; he made the principle of virtue to
consist in a sentiment of benevolence towards God
and towards man.]
SECTION III.
LEIBNITZ.
Historical Notices.
GODFREY WILLIABI LEIBNITZ, born at Leipsic in
1648, wrote at first upon jurisprudence. He after.
ward formed the plan of an encyclopedia which em.
braced all branches of science, the mathematics,
physics, history, morals, public law, metaphysics, the.
ology. After having been attached for some years
to the chancery of the Elector of Mayence, he was
appointed counsellor by the Duke of Brunswick. He
visited France, Holland, England, and Italy, formed
friendships with the most celebrated men of science,
and carried on a scientific correspondence with many
of them. Leibnitz worked with indefatigable ardour: it is said to have often happened that he would
not leave his chair for, some weeks at a time. He
died in 1716. He did not publish any work in which
his philosophical views are united into a systematic
body. Some Latin theses which he had printed at
Leipsic present a summary of them in the form of
articles; we shall follow these in our exposition of
his fuidamrental doctrines.
II.-7




82           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
Exposition,
Leibnitz rejected the sensualism  propounded in
principle by Bacon and developed by Locke, whose
book on the Human Understanding appeared to him
a very slender performance.
He maintained that sensations cannot be the source
of notions which correspond to necessary truths, and
that -these notions are derived from an internal light,
which is a participation in the infinite reason. But
he did not confine himself to opposing sensualism;
he threw himself into the opposite extreme. Not
that he pretended that ideas alone constituted hu.
man intelligence; he admitted the distinction between sensations and ideas in the sense that sensa.
tions are the representations of facts, and ideas the
representations of necessary truths. But, as we
shall presently see, he was led by the general princi.
ples of his philosophy to conclude that sensations
have not an external origin, but only an internal; that
they are solely the result of the activity of the soul,
which produces them without the concurrence of any
principle out of itself.  In the system of Locke, all
notions have an external source, even the most abstract; in the philosophy of Leibnitz, they all, even
sensations, have an internal source.,
All branches of the philosophy of Leibnitz have
a common trunk in his ontology or theory of sub,
stances: we must first comprehend that.
Man is immediately in connexion with the universe,
of which he himself forms a part.  Now the uni.
verse and the beings it contains present themselves to
us as compounded. There cannot be composites
without components; if these latter are themselves
composites, they will also have their components, until
we come in thought to components which are not




LEIBNITZ.                 83
composites, that is, to simple beings, or beings with.
out parts, which may be termed monads, in order to
express their unity, their indivisibility, their simplicity. The monads are the only real substances, for
everything which is not a monad must be a composition of monads, and the composition is not a sub.
stance, but simply a relation.
From  this first step Leibnitz separates himself
from Descartes.  The Cartesian philosophy admitted
two different substances: matter, whose essence was
extension, and spirit, whose essence was thought.
From the principle laid down by Leibnitz, it followed,
on the contrary, that there exists but one kind of
substances, simple substances: that which is desig.
nated by the term matter can be nothing more than
an aggregation of monads, and extension is nothing
but the phenomenon which manifests this aggregation.
Investigating the essence of the monad, Leibnitz
believed he discovered three principles:
1. An internal principle of variation: no monad
that is not infinite implies immutability; as finite it is
subject to change; and, in fact, the universe is subjected to a law of variation. Now changes could
not take place in the aggregations of monads with.
out a pre-existing change in the monads themselves.
But the principle of these changes is necessarily internal; for the monad, for the reason that it is with.
out parts, cannot be modified by an external principle, that is to say, by the action of another monad.
2. Here is seen, again, a radical separation between
Leibnitz and Descartes.:All the changes that take
place in the universe, all phenomena without exception, are referred by Leibnitz to a force internal in
each simple substance. Descartes, on the contrary,
explained all the phenomena of the material universe
by the communication of motion, that is, by a princi.




84           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ple external to each body affected. In the view of
Leibnitz every change resulted from a dynamic
cause; Descartes acknowledged only a mechanical
cause. Changes in things are wrought actively from
within outwardly: changes are wrought passively
from without inwardly: such were the two opposite
formulas which disputed the theory of the universe.
In this respect the cosmology of Leibnitz was to the
cosmology of Descartes what its psychology was to
that of Bacon.
3. Leibnitz held that in the essence of the monad
there was a second principle, which produced the va.
riety of the monads; a schema, which constitutes
the peculiar characteristic, the intimate, essential,
specific form of each of them. Not only has every
monad qualities, for otherwise it would not be a be.
ing, but the qualities of each monad should have a
character which determines their difference from other monads. Two radically undistinguishable from
each other would be but one and the same thing under different names.  Without this differential character there would not exist a plurality of monads;
there would be but one. There would be, accord.
ingly, neither composites nor components, and the
notion of the universe would disappear.
This was, again, the antithesis of the physical theories of Descartes. According to the French philos.
opher, extension, the essence of matter, was identical
in all bodies, and the difference of bodies resulted,
not from anything internal to each, but from the general laws of motion, which produced various combi.
nations in that universally the same extension.
4. Finally, the monad, as conceived by Leibnitz,
should imply multiplicity in unity. Every change is
wrought by degrees; something changes, something
remains: therefore every simple substance, from the




LEIBNITZ.                 85
very fact of its being subject to a law of change,
contains in itself a plurality of susceptibilities, modifications, and relations, that is, to multiplicity in
unity.
Leibnitz concluded from these considerations that
every monad is representative of the universe. In
virtue of its principle of internal variation, it can
change or develop itself indefinitely. If it were
composed of parts, the number of its possible varia.
tions would be limited proportionably to the number
of its parts. But as it is absolutely simple, we can.
not conceive any necessary limit to the development of
its activity: it comes into no condition that may not
be replaced by another.  It contains in itself, therefore, the capacity of all modes of possible being, and
thereby is representative of the whole universe.
This variation of the monads, which implies the
representation of the universe, is nothing else than
what is called perception.  The basis of this capital
thesis of the philosophy of Leibnitz may be conceived
in the following manner. Thought exists in the monads, that is, in a certain number of them. Now
what is thought? Properly speaking, it is consciousness, or distinct perception of the changes which go
on within the monad. Thought supposes, therefore,
anterior to itself, a confused perception of these
changes; for we can no more conceive that a perception should spring from that which was in no
sense a perception, than that a motion should spring
from that which was no movement. Every clear
perception must be the development of an obscure
perception; all consciousness, properly speaking, is
the apprehension or coming to the understanding of
a vague, insensible consciousness.
Perception may therefore exist in two states: the
state of perception simple and as yet confused, and the
IIH.



86           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
state of distinct perception, which may be designated
by the term apperception. In lethargy, deep sleep, or
swoon, the soul is not without perception, for then it
would be destitute of activity; and if it once became
entirely passive, it could not become active again.
Nevertheless, the soul in those states does not experience any distinct sentiment. This state represents
to us that of simple monads. The simple monads
are, as it were, souls struck with stupor.
The state of distinct perception has itself two degrees. We may distinguish only the simple facts
corresponding to what is called sensations. Such is
the state of animals, and of men so far as animals.
To this knowledge may be joined the knowledge of
the truths of reason, or necessary truths.  Thus is
the state peculiar to man.
The general law of perception is a law of union;
for, on the one hand, a perception can spring only
from a perception. As any actual change in a mo.
nad is in sequel to an anterior change, so is it the
germe of a future change. On the other hand, the
monad being representative of variety in unity, this
representation, at once one and multiple, implies an
intimate connexion of perceptions.
Thus the connexion of confused perceptions with
distinct perceptions, even though we may be uncon.
scious of it, is none the less real. When we'come
out from the state of stupor, so to say, the primary
perceptions of which we become conscious are the
lingering echo of the last confused perceptions.
The distinct perceptions of sensible things are
bound together by memory, which is an imitation of
reason.
Rational perceptions are linked together by a law
superior to that of memory; this law of the intelli.
gence rests on two principles, which are the basis of




LEIBNITZ.                  87
all reasoning, the principle of the sufficient reason,
and the principle of contradiction.
By the principle of the sufficient reason we judge
that no fact can take place without a reason sufficient
for its occurring so rather than otherwise.  This
principle is the basis of all theories which have facts
for their object.
By the principle of contradiction we judge every.
thing to be false which implies at once affirmation
and negation: which comes to the same thing as taking for true everything which is contained in a no.
tion, that is to say, all notions identical with it. The
principle of contradiction is, therefore, at bottom the
principle of identity.  It is the basis of all theories
which have necessary truths for their object.
As the principle of the sufficient reason supposes
facts to which it is applied, so the principle of con.
tradiction supposes indemonstrable first truths, of
which it effects the development. But, although
these two principles are distinct, still, in as far as
they correspond to two different orders of knowledge, the one is derived from the other. For the
necessity of a sufficient reason for the existence of
every fact is itself a necessary truth, the negative of
which would imply a contradiction. The principle
of contradiction is therefore the root of all the sci.
ences; it constitutes the unity of the human mind.
Thus far the human mind has only a subjective or
logical unity. But it can advance thereby to an ob.
jective unity, that is to say, it can find not only the
principle of knowledge, but also the principle even
of things. It is true, indeed, that, in ascending the se.
ries of contingent facts, the sufficient reason of each
particular fact is found in an anterior fact, this will
nevertheless not give the sufficient reason for the existence of the whole series. The principle of the suf.




88           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ficient reason, followed to its last extent, obliges us
to predicate the ultimate reason of all facts in a sub.
stance not contingent, but necessary. In the same
way, if necessary eternal truths have any reality,
this reality must also have existence in a substance
necessary as themselves. If the necessary being
does not exist, there are neither necessary truths, nor,
dfortiori, contingent things.  We cannot deny his
existence without denying all existence; without fall.
ing, consequently, into the greatest contradictions.
Thus the principle of the sufficient reason leads us
to acknowledge the ultimate reason of all contingent
things. The principle of contradiction leads us to
an eternal sphere of essences. The being who is at
once the source of existences and the substance of
truth, is God; for this being possesses absolute per.
fection, which is but the exclusion of all limitation.
As he is the reason of the whole series of contingent
things, he cannot be limited at any gradation of that
series. Nor can a principle of limitation for him
any more be found in the region of necessary truths;
for necessity, so far from excluding in any degree
existence, necessarily involves it. In a word, the
idea of the supremely perfect Being, free from all
limitations, implies his existence. If he did not ex.
ist, he would be at the same time possible and impossible; possible, since we have the idea of him;
impossible, since his non-existence could have no oth.
er reason than just the impossibility of his existence.
From the fact that the notion of the Supreme Being
is not contradictory, we must therefore conclude
that he exists. God is the being whose logical possibility implies his actual existence. Here Leibnitz
falls in with the demonstration of Descartes.  Al.
though he pretended that his proof ac priori of the existence of God was an improvement upon that of




LEIBNI rz.               89
Descartes, we cannot perceive any fundamental dif.
ference.
Arrived, at God, the human mind comes into the
possession of objective unity. It has found the prime
monad, the unity of unities, to which he can thence.
forward attach the whole theory of the universe.
The monads are produced by perpetual fJlashings (as
of lightning) of the infinite monad, which are limited
by the receptivity of creatures.  That which exists
in created monads, exists without limits in the uncreated monad. There is in God a power which is
the source of all beings, as there exists in monads
a principle of activity which is the source of all their
modes of being. There is in God an intelligence
which contains the schema of ideas, as there is in the
monads a schema which determines their own pecu.
liar character. There is in God a good-will which
is moved by the motive of the greatest good, as there
is in the monads an internal appetency which makes
them pass from one state to another state, and which
is also a natural tendency towards their greatest
good.
The general theory of the universe should afford
a solution of two problems, which, in the times of
Leibnitz especially, were agitated by the most powerful minds. The universe may be considered in its
relations with God, and in the relations of creatures
to each other. Compared with the infinite being, is
the universe, or total collection of finite beings, des.
titute of infinite perfection solely from the nature
of things, or is it, besides, destitute of any degree of
finite perfection? This is the first of the problems.
Leibnitz replied to it by optimism. Compared among
themselves, do creatures exert upon each other a re.
ciprocal influence? This is the second problem.
The Cartesian philosophy sought the solution of it in
TT.~~P1




90           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
the theory of occasional causes: Leibnitz substitu.
ted the theory of pre-established harmony.
In respect to the first question, Leibnitz aimed
first to establish optimism by deduction from the very
notion of God. God, who is absolute perfection,
can have been moved in the act of creation only by
the relative perfection possible in creatures.  He
has not, therefore, in his wisdom preferred a world
more remote from absolute perfection to a world that
approached nearer to it. But Leibnitz did not limit
himself to the a priori proof of optimism; he endeavoured also to verify his system d5 posteriori, by recon.
ciling the existence of evil with the existence of the
most -perfect world.
Evil may be considered in its possibility and in
its actual existence. The possibility of evil makes
necessarily a part of the creation, because it is de.
rived from the limitation of creatures. Considered
in its actual existence, evil is divided into metaphysical, physical, and moral evil. Metaphysical evil,
which is only the very imperfection of creatures,
must subsist in the most perfect world, since created
things are not susceptible of infinite perfection, which
is peculiar to God. —Physical evil or pain is a supe.
rior order of good, a moral good, in as far as it is the
punishment of moral evil; it is also, in the mere
sphere of enjoyment, often the principle of a greater
good; and in all cases there is nothing to prove that
it does not actually receive, or will not one day receive, a superabundant compensation; from whence
it follows that in its sum total it cannot be affirmed
that pain is not a good.-Moral evil or sin is not, indeed, like metaphysical evil, an absolute necessity of
creation; it is not in itself, like physical evil, an efficient means of the greatest good, but its permission
may be the condition of the greatest good; or, in




LEIBNITZ.                 91
other terms, nothing authorizes us to affirm that the
perfection of the world, that is, the manifestation of
the perfections of God in the world, did not require
that God should permit this effect of the free-will of
man.  But if it be true that this was requisite, God
not only could, but, moreover, must permit it, since
lie could have prevented it only by committing evil
himself, in the very fact of preferring, by a choice
unworthy of his wisdom, a less perfect to the most
perfect world.
We pass to the relations of creatures to each other. The Cartesian philosophy had been led to the
system of occasional causes by the impossibility of
conceiving that the extended substance could act
upon the thinking substance, and vice versa. This
difficulty did not exist in the philosophy of Leibnitz,
who recognised but one sole kind of substance. But
another difficulty presented itself: Leibnitz had maintained in principle that the monads could not act upon
each other, inasmuch as they were essentially simple.
How then to conceive the correlation which manifests
itself between what takes place in one state and what
takes place in another state, for instance, between the
mind and the body with which it is united? It is
very true, replied Leibnitz, that there is no physical
connexion between the monads, but there is an ideal
connexion. Their relations are contained in the di.
vine ideas; and God, in creating a monad, predeter.
mined its relations with other monads. He regula.
ted in the beginning the internal principle of its variations in such a way that all the evolutions of the
principle should concur with the evolutions that were
to take place in other monads. The beings that we
call spirits, that is, monads endowed with self-con.
sciousness, and the beings that we call bodies, that
is, aggregations of simple monads, act solely accord



92           MODERiN PHILOSOPIlY.
ing to their own internal force; the former as if there
were no bodies in existence, the latter as if there
were no spirits in existence. But, in virtue of the
pre-established harmony, the corporeal world and
the spiritual world are like two clocks, which, though
reciprocally independent, mark simultaneously the
same hours, in consequence of an internal mechanism
in which the clockmaker has realized his own ideas.
It is to be conceived that in this system, where
each monad acts by itself without being modified by
another, the distinction of active and passive is not
real, but only phenomenal. It has its foundation, not
in the objects, but in our mode of conceiving them.
We say that one being is passive relatively to another being supposed active, when we use that which
is distinctly known to us in the latter in order to
conceive the sufficient reason of what takes place in
the former.
Leibnitz not only considered the hypothesis of pre.
established harmony as the most satisfactory expla.
nation of the phenomena of the correlation of sub.
stances, but, moreover, he saw in it a consequence
of his system of optimism. The perfection of the
universe requires the best order of combination, or
the most complete unity with the most extended va.
riety. The evolutions of each monad being adapted
to the evolutions of all the others, a more perfect
unity of plan cannot be conceived. But, at the same
time, each monad, by its harmony with all the others,
reflecting in its own point of view the whole universe, there results from it the greatest possible variety. Just as a city seen from different points re.
ceives optically a multiplied existence, so the universe,
though essentially one, is multiplied by the different
points of view furnished by the innumerable monads.
The general consequence of all the foregoing prin



LEIBNITZ.                 93
ciples is, on the one hand, that everything is aninla.
ted, since nothing exists but monads essentially active; and, on the other hand, that each monad, rep.
resentative of all nature, according to a mode of
perception more or less developed, is constantly mod.
ified by its internal activity, as if it received the
echo of' everything that passes in the universe to the
farthest limits of creation. This life, one and uni.
versal, is, in the view of Leibnitz, a magnificent con
firmation of his optimist doctrine.
But in the bosom of that unity, bodies and spirits
act according to laws which are specific to them;
the first observing the laws of efficient causes, the
second the laws of final causes.
By the general principles of his theory of bodies,
Leibnitz combated at once Descartes and Newton.
We have seen already how he attacked the bases of
the Cartesian physics. As to Newton, who, through
the medium of Clarke, maintained a controversy with
Leibnitz, the principal points of separation were
relative to the most general cosmological notions.
Newton had maintained the existence of a vacuum:
Leibnitz asserted that there was no sufficient reason
for a vacuum; for the more there is of matter in the
universe, the more the power and wisdom of God are
exercised.  Newton considered space as a reality;
he supposed beyond the material world a space without limits. Leibnitz replied, that if space were anything real in itself, it would doubtless be infinite and
eternal, and so would be God; which would be contradictory, since space is divisible, and God is abso.
lutely one and simple. Space, in the view of the
German philosopher, was nothing but a relation, like
time. Time is the sphere of successions, space the
sphere of coexistences. Finally, Newton had concluded from physical theories that the forces of nature




94-          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
would be gradually exhausted, and that the moment
would come when God would stretch forth again his
creative hand to repair the universe. Leibnitz re.
plied that it would not do to represent God as a feeble or ignorant author of machines that may need
repairs.
By the side of his physical cosmology Leibnitz laid
down the bases of a sort of moral cosmology, which
also contained the foundations of politics.  Spirits,
which differ from inferior monads in that the latter
represent only the universe, while the former represent God himself, form, together with him, a perfect
state, of which he is the monarch. All sociality has
its source in resemblance to God.
The universal law of this state of intelligences is
love. Love unites beings to each other and to God,
without destroying the propensity which leads each
one to seek his own individual gratification; for love
is the pleasure one takes in the happiness of another:
justice is enlightened love.
But in order to demonstrate that the honesty and
justice which secure the interest of all are in har.
mony with utility or the interest of each, it is necessary to take in the universal sphere, to carry our
thoughts up to God, and from this height to discover
beyond this life a future life, where the divine plan
shall be accomplished.
Observations.
1. Bacon had traced a method, but had occupied
himself much less with the explanation of things.
Leibnitz devoted himself much more to the explana.
tion of things than to the method to be followed in
order to arrive at it. Descartes embraced at once
method and the explanation of things.
2. We have pointed out how, in certain respects,




LEIBNITZ.                 95
the philosophy of' Leibnitz was a reaction against
that of Bacon, in other respects against that of Descartes.  It is necessary to take this double point of
view in order to form an exact idea of it.
3. Considered as a whole, this philosophy aimed
at combining in the highest degree unity and varie.
ty.  The notion that Leibnitz formed of perception,
the source of all knowledge, made him incessantly
strive to obtain this result, since perception, as he
conceived it, was the representation of variety in uni.
ty. Philosophy, which was in some sort perception
in the large, should accordingly produce this representation in the vastest proportions.
4. The theories of Leibnitz contain the principles
of idealism. Material substance is at bottom only a
pure phenomenon: the action and reaction of beings
upon each other is only a simple conception of the
mind. All ideas are only the product of the development of the monad.
5. The system of pre-established harmony attacks
the common notion of the union of mind and body.
It divides the universe into two worlds, whose apparent union implies their real and absolute separation.
6. The philosophy of Leibnitz contains, however,
some portions that are admirable.  It represents one
of the essential elements of the human mind, the ide.
al, as the philosophy of Bacon represents the other,
the sensible element.
7. The influence of the philosophy of Leibnitz was
felt in nearly the whole German philosophy of his
epoch, to which he gave an inclination towards ide.
alism, which showed itself at first in two forms, mys.
tic idealism and rational idealism. Those of the
German philosophers who, while professing doctrines
opposed under certain aspects to the idealism of Leib.
nitz, embraced under other aspects a mystic ideal




96          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ism, are particularly represented by Christian Tho.
mnasius. The other philosophers, who were the con.
tinuators of the Leibnitzian philosophy, are represented by Wolff, the most celebrated of the disciples
of Leibnitz.
THOMASIUS.
CHRISTIAN THOMASIUS, whose father had been the
master of Leibnitz, was born at Leipsic in 1655, and
died at Halle in 1728.
The fundamental doctrine of Thomasius presents
a singular combination, the union of sensualism and
mysticism.
Thomasius had felt that it was impossible to deduce all truths from sensations, and, above all, the
highest truths, those of religion and morality. On
the other hand, in the analysis of the intelligence it
seemed to him that it never operated but upon a
stock furnished by sensation. In this point of view
it is necessary either to deny the truths not contained in sensations, or to find in the human mind a
source of knowledge distinct from sensation. Tho.
masius held that it was false to say man was in re.
lation with truth only by his intellect; he maintained
that the human mind had in some sort two organs to
apprehend truth, the intellect and the will. We at.
tain possession of truth either by the view of the
mind or by the inclination of the soul. Sensation is
the principle of all the rational notions upon which
the intellect operates; love is the principle of the
truths of sentiment. By this theory Thomasius,
leaving one half of philosophy in sensualism, carried
the other half into mysticism, by admitting a percep.
tion of the true radically independent of the intelli.
gence.
The distinction of active and passive plays a great




WOLFF.                  97
part in the conceptions of Thomasius. The intel
lect and the will are sometimes active and sometimes passive. These two states correspond to dif.
ferent principles.  The passive state attests the pres.
ence of a blind, dark, cold, corruptible principle;
this is matter. The active state comes from a lu.
minous, vital, energetic, incorruptible principle; this
is of the nature of spirit.
For the rest, though Thomasius treated of the va.
rious branches of philosophy, yet he chiefly devoted
himself to the task of reducing to theory morals and
the science of rights.
WOLFF.
CHRISTIAN WOLFF, born at Breslau in 1679, died
in 1764, was the correspondent and friend of Leibnitz. After the death of his master he was considered the first philosopher of Germany. He contributed powerfully to destroy the empire of the peripa.
tetic philosophy in the schools.
Wolff was in general only a continuator of the
philosophy of Leibnitz; but he added much less to it
in the way of substance than of form.
1. He endeavoured to combine and arrange all the
views scattered in the works of Leibnitz, by referring
that immense mass of ideas to some simple principles. The kind of unity established by Wolff con.
sisted, however, far more in a methodical exposition
of ideas than in their intimate logical connexion. In
this respect he scarcely went beyond what had been
done by Leibnitz.
2. He applied to the exposition of this philosophy
the processes of the geometrical method, and considered all truths as sustaining to each other relations
analogous to those that exist between numbers.
3. He attempted to form a sort of statistics of
II. —




98           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
philosophical problems, and of the solutions which
they might receive.  He undertook in this respect a
labour of nomenclature and classification analogous
to that of Bacon, but from a point of view different
from that of the empirical philosopher.
4. He distinguished empirical reason, relating to
the elements furnished by sensation, from pure reason, which perceives necessary truths.
5. As a consequence of this distinction, he assert.
ed for ontology the importance denied to it by Ba.
con.
Observations.
The doctrines of Leibnitz, defended and develop.
ed by Wolff and other philosophers of that period,
encountered, particularly in Germany, numerous adversaries, who may be ranged around Crusius as their
centre. But their attacks did not destroy the pre.
dominating influence of those doctrines, which led
the way in some degree to the philosophy of Kant.
The distinction between empirical and pure.reason
opened the point of view at which Kant took his po.
sition.  On the other hand, Thomasius, in denying
to the intellect relatively to religious and moral truths
the authority which he accorded to sentiment, or inclination of the soul, preluded the conception of Kant,
who allowed to the practical reason a validity denied
by him to the speculative reason.  There is undoubtedly a great difference between the theory of
the one respecting the practical reason, and the the.
ory of the other respecting truths perceived by love;
yet, spite of this difference, a certain analogy subsists
between them. We shall soon see how the system
of Kant bore the impress of the threefold influence
of the schools of Bacon, of Descartes, and of Leibnitz. However, by reason of his eminently idealist




KANT.                   99
character, he was no; an emanation of the school
of Leibnitz, but a result of the intellectual habits
which the philosophy of Leibnitz had propagated in
Germany.
SECOND PART.
GE RMAN  SCHOOLS.
KANT.
Historical Notices.
EMMANUEL KANT was born at K6nigsberg in 1724.
He there went through the University course. Af.
ter having been for some time a tutor in private fam.
ilies, he attained to the chair of logic and metaphysics, and afterwards the rectorship in his University.
There is nothing striking in the external events and
circumstances of his history; his life was in a sort
altogether internal. He died in 1804. The most
celebrated of his works is his Critique of Pure Reason, which he published in 1781, and in which he
laid down the principles of the philosophical reformation he had undertaken to establish. He developed and applied these principles in numerous other
writings, among which may be named, the Prolegoin.
ena to Metaphysics, Critique of Practical Reason,
Critique of Judgment, Metaphysical Principles of the
Science of Right, and an Essay on Anthopology.  *
Exposition.
Setting out with the principles of the empirical
philosophy, Hume had shaken the foundations of hu.
man knowledge. Kant demanded if it were true, as
that philosopher took for granted, that human knowl.
edge is composed solely of elements furnished by
experience, if there were not, on the contrary, notions




100         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
independent of sensation, and produced by the understanding alone. He noticed, in the first place, that
the mathematical sciences imply notions of this kind.
The judgment by which we pronounce the radii of a
circle equal is not founded upon experience; for this
judgment affirms something necessary, while expe.
rience gives us nothing but simply facts; it affirms
something universal, while experience gives us nothing but particular facts. Besides empirical cognitions or knowledge a posteriori, there exists, then, cognitions a priori, originally distinct from any sensible
element. Struck with the character of the mathe.
matical principles, Kant afterward inquired whether
the entire system of cognitions did not rest upon
judgments marked with the same character, and, in
that case, what is the source of those judgments, and
what are the conditions and limits of their legitimate
application.
He attempted to determine in the most precise
manner the fundamental problem of the human mind,
by considering that there were two sorts of judg
ments. In the one the attribute or predicate is con.
tained in the subject, as, for example, The infinitely
perfect Being is good. Such judgments do nothing
but develop a notion without adding to it any other
notions, and in this sense they do not enlarge the circle of our knowledge. Kant gave them the name of
analyticaljudgments. But there are other judgments
where the attribute is not contained in the subject, as,
for example, Every phenomenon has a principle or
cause. The idea of principle or cause is not contain.
ed in the simple notion of phenomenon. Such judg.
ments increase our knowledge, in that they consist in
the affirmation of something not comprised in the
conception of the subject. Kant called them syn.
thetic judgments.




KANT,                  101
Combining, then, the distinction of analytical and
synthetic judgments with the distinction of knowledge d posteriori and knowledge a priori, he remark.
ed, first, that all analytical judgments are d priori,
since it is not necessary to have recourse to experi.
ence in order to affirm the relation of attribute to
subject, when this relation is contained ini the very
conception of the subject,  But, at the same time, he
believed he ascertained that of synthetic judgments
some are d posteriori and others d priori.  When I
say, All bodies are heavy, I form a synthetic judgment d posteriori; the attribute heavy is not contained in the conception of the subject body; their rela.
tion is furnished only by experience, But, on the
contrary, this other synthetic judgment, Every phenomenon has a principle or a cause, is a priori, for
experience gives only the simple phenomenon.
This established, we see what, according to Kant,
is the radical problem of the human mind.  There
is no difficulty in conceiving the possibility of synthetic judgments d posteriori, for this synthesis is
only the expression of experience. Nor is it difficult to conceive that analytical judgments should be
d priori, for they are only the expression of what is
contained in the conception of the subject. But how
to conceive the possibility of synthetic judgments d
priori? In these judgments the relation of the attri.
bute to the subject is neither given by the conception
of the subject, as in' analytical judgments d priori,
nor -by experience, as in synthetic judgments dposteriori. Upon what foundation, then, do they rest? To
solve this problem Kant undertook a general criti.
cism of the grounds of human knowledge.  His
speculations are divided into three principal branches: criticism of theoretical reason; criticism of prac.
tical reason; and, lastly, criticism of a third mode




102          PMODERN PHILOSOPHY.
of reason, whose office it is to establish the alliance
of the theoretical and practical reason.
Criticism of the Theoretical Reason.
The mind is affected by impressions, which may
be designated by the general name of sensations, because, whatever be their cause, internal or external,
they are perceived by man in as far as he is a sensitive being. They produce in the mind a Iepi'esentation which may be called intuition. The aptitude of
the mind to be affected by them is called receptivity.
In the sensibility or receptivity it is necessary to
distinguish between the matter and the form.  The
elements furnished by experience are the matter.
But these elements all fall within the framework of
the notions of time and space. These notions are
not given by experience, for we can suppose all the
objects of sensation may be annihilated; on that supposition the notions of time and space are still more
the less inherent in the mind. These notions d pri
or are then theforms of the receptivity.
But the simple sensibility which receives intuitions
does not suffice to produce ideas, for an intuition
and an idea are different things. When I see a
house, I receive at first a variety of impressions corresponding to the different parts of the object perceived; but the idea of the house is not formed until
the mind has combined these intuitions in the unity
of consciousness. The formation of ideas supposes,
then, in addition to the passive receptivity, an active
intervention of the understanding, which may be des.
ignated by the term spontaneity.
But this is only the first act of cognition. After
having united intuitions in order to form ideas, the
understanding also recalls the idea of unity in order
to produce judgments.  Ideas are the matter of judg



KANT.                    103
ments; but, besides the matter of judgments, there
are also the forms which constitute them by being
applied to the matter. All judgments are referable:
Either to quantity: judgments are then either individual, or particular, or universal;
Or to quality: judgments are then either affirma.
tive, or negative, or limitative;
Or to relation: judgments are then either cate.
gorical, or hypothetical, or disjunctive;
Or to modality: to which belong judgments prob.
lematical, assertory, and necessary.'The four fundamental modes of judgments give
the following categories:
Unity.
Quantity... Plurality.
Universality.
Reality.
Quality...  Negation.
Limitation.
t Substance and accident.
Relation... Causality and dependance.
(Action and reaction.
Possibility, impossibility.
Modality... Existence, non-existence.
Necessity, contingence.
All notions fall within the framework of these cat.
egories, as all intuitions fall under the notions of
time and space. These categories are not furnished
by experience; they are the universal and neces.
sary laws of the understanding. They are its forms,
as time and space are the forms of the sensibility.
The production of judgments corresponds to the
production of ideas. Just as intuitions are the matter of ideas, ideas are the matter of judgments. The
spontaneity of the understanding reduces intuitions
to unity, under the d priori conditions of time and
space, expressed by the categories.
But human knowledge implies still an ulterior uni.




104          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ty. The judgments are in their turn brought to unit
ty. The act which produces this unity is reasoning,
the faculty which operates in reasoning is called rea.
son, to distinguish it from the understanding, inas.
much as the latter word is relative solely to the for.
mation of judgments and ideas.
In all reasoning the conclusion depends on the
premises: the letter contain the particular condition
of the former.  But if the premises themselves have
particular conditions, they are nothing but conclu.
sions, for which premises must be sought until we
arrive at the totality of conditions, that is, to the absolute condition. The office of reason is therefore
to seek for that condition, to establish the greatest
possible unity of judgments. Now, as there are three
general forms of reasoning, the categorical, hypothet.
ical, and disjunctive, there are three ideas, which
establish for each form of reasoning the absolute con.
dition of unity.
Reasoning is categorical when the understanding
furnishes to the reason judgments in which the attribute is considered as residing in the subject.  Rea.
son should, then, seek for the idea of a subject which
does not itself reside in any other: this idea is the
idea of substance.
Reasoning is hypothetical when the attribute of
judgments is united to a subject only in virtue of a par.
ticular supposition. Reason should seek, then, for an
absolute hypothesis; and as no particular phenome.
non can give it, this absolute hypothesis is perhaps
only the absolute totality of all phenomena, that is,
the idea of the whole series of facts which compose
the universe.
Finally, reasoning is disjunctive when it refers to
judgments where the predicate is united to the subject as a part of a whole. But a whole can itself be




KANT.                  105
nily a part of a larger whole, and thus an till we
come to an absolute whole, which allows of making
a complete or absolute division of all the parts. Reason, in order to work out this division, must there.
fore seek for the idea of a being which comprehends
all existences, or the idea of the Supreme Being.
Now experience can furnish neither of these three
radical ideas, on which depends in the last analysis
the unity of judgments, which is the aim of reason.
It cannot furnish the ontological idea of substance,
for experience corresponds only to phenomena. It
cannot furnish tJe cosmological idea of the absolute
totality of phenomena; for, however large the num.
ber of facts observed, the number is limited, and represents nothing absolute.  Lastly, it cannot give the
theological idea of the being that contains all exist.
ences, since particular existences are the sole objects
of experience.
Consequently, the notions by which reason constitutes the unity of judgments are a priori, as also
the notions by means of which the understanding
constitutes the unity of ideas, as also the notions by
means of which it brings intuitions to unity.  Reason, considered with respect to the notions which are
its forms, is pure reason.
From these principles Kant concluded:
1. That human knowledge, taken in general, is
composed of two elements, the empirical or d poste.
riori element, and the a priori element, which is derived from the intelligence.  If the intelligence did
not apply its forms to the intuitions produced by sen.
sation, the intuitions would never become cognitions.
But without the intuitions, without the data of expe.
rience, the forms of the intelligence would be empty
forms, they would be inapplicable, they would be
without employment.
II-9




106          MODERIN PthO~SOPeHY.
2. That all the notions of the pure reason are des
titute of objective reality, or, rather, that we have nc
right. to attribute to them such a reality, because
reason does not operate upon the intuitions, but only
upon the forms of the judgments which the under.
standing has produced.
3. That we make an illegitimate use of reason
when, attributing to these notions an objective reali
ty, we would thereby apprehend existences which are
not contained in the sphere of the sensible world,
We would go beyond the limits of human knowledge,
which are just the limits of experience,
4. That we equally violate the laws of the human
mind when, instead of using the notions of reason
solely to systematize our judgments, we would apply
them immediately to the data of experience. This
abuse produces the antinorpies, that is, series of judgments which terminate in contradictory results: an.
tinomies, which should apprize us that the attempt
from which they result is radically vicious.
5. Lastly, that what we call the laws of nature
are nothing put the laws of our own intelligence,
which imposes them upon nature, or, in other words,
that the order which we attribute to things is at bot.
tom only the order of our perceptions, determined by
the constituent forms of our intelligence.
This system evidently conducts to consequences
destructive of religion.  If, in fact, all human cogni.
tions are contained within the circle of experience,
the ideas of God, of the future life, and all those
which flow therefrom, are ideas without real validity.
Kant admitted that this consequence was an inevita.
ble corollary of his criticism of the speculative rea.
son; but he distinguished in man another reason,
which he called practical, and which gave, according
to him, a solid foundation for beliefs, which the spec.
ulative reason was unable to establish.




KANT.                   107
Criticism of the Practical Reason.
The object of speculative reason is the resolution
of this question: What can I know? But man also
asks another question: What ought I to do? In as
far as it goes to solve this question, reason is practical:
it seeks the determining principles of the will; and,
as reason necessarily tends to unity, it seeks here
also an absolute principle.
Among the determining principles of the will
should be distinguished, as in the theoretical principles, two elements, the one material, the other formal.
The material element is composed of all the motives
which act upon the sensibility, all the motives of en.
joyment; the formal element comprehends disinterested motives, or motives relative, not to the sensibility, but to the pure reason. The first contain nothing universal and necessary; the second alone can
furnish the absolute principle of determination.
Now, as soon as sensible motives are put aside, no.
thing can be conceived as the principle of determi.
nation but that rule which alone is absolute, or inde.
pendent of every particular condition: Act according
to a maxim which would admit of being regarded as a
general law for all acting beings. This Kant calls
the categorical imperative.
But this absolute principle of the practical reason
is bound up with three theoretical principles or pos.
tulates, without which i; could not be conceived: the
postulate of freedom, the postulate of the immortality
of the soul, the postulate of the existence of God.
1. If man be not free, he could attribute his de.
terminations only to his propensities, that is, to that
which corresponds to the sensibility: therefore the
absolute principle of the practical reason implies lib.
erty.




t08          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
2. The principle of the practical reason, as an ab.
solute rule, commands man to establish a perfect har.
mony between his intentions and the moral law; a
harmony which constitutes holiness, or the ideal of
virtue. Man should therefore tend towards this
ideal; but its complete realization is not possible,
because man is subject to the conditions of the sensibility, which relate not to the ideal of virtue, but to
the empiricism of enjoyment.  It is necessary, therefore, that man should strive to approach this ideal by
a perpetual progress, and the possibility of this indef.
inite progress supposes the immortality of the soul.
3. Virtue is the supreme end. If happiness by
itself were the supreme end, reasonable beings would
not have had the faculty of self-determination; in.
stinct would have sufficed. But, on the other hand,
they are also formed with an invincible desire of hap
piness. Now the harmony of virtue and of happiness cannot be established by man, because man, fiee
in respect of his will, is dependant upon nature in
respect of happiness, and nature itself does not accomplish this necessary harmony. Its realization
therefore supposes a cause independent of nature,
who both can and wills to produce this harmony, who
is consequently endowed with intelligence and will.
This sovereign cause is God.
The ideas of freedom, of immortality, of the ex.
istence of God, have, according to Kant, as postulates of the practical reason, an objective validity,
which they cannot obtain from the theoretical reason.
The practical reason, determining actions, commands
real effects; now it would be absurd that real effects
should be produced by principles which were not
themselves real.




KANT.                  109
Criticism of the Judgment.
The theoretical reason furnishes the laws of na.
ture, the practical reason furnishes the.laws of free.
dom. They have both their peculiar' principles,
which would remain constantly separate without a
particular faculty, by which man could apply to the
world of nature the conceptions of the world of freedom. The principle according to which this faculty
operates is the agreement or fitness of means to ends;
an agreement which exists in the actions of free beings, and which we can transfer into the actions of
nature by conceiving the union of nature with the
freedom which acts in it and by it.
The faculty which serves as the bond between the
speculative and the practical sphere is called by Kant
the faculty of Judgment.  This denomination has
some inconveniences, because it is employed in a
different sense in the criticism of the theoretical
reason.
Leaving this out of view, however, the faculty of
judging (as now conceived) has two modes. When
it considers the concurrence of means in the forms
of things in such a way as to produce a sentiment
of pleasure, it is esthetical; when it considers this
concurrence under a purely logical point of view, in
order to obtain the simple knowledge of things, with.
out any regard to the sentiment of pleasure, it is te.
leological.
The criticism of the esthetic judgment is the the.
ory of the beautiful and sublime. Both are purely
subjective. The beautiful is the consciousness of
being able easily to bring a variety, which the imagination represents to us, to one idea of the under.
standing: it is the sentiment of the harmony which
exists between these two faculties. As this sentiment
II.



110          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
is the sentiment of our own power, it is accompanied
with satisfaction. The sublime, on the contrary, is
the consciousness of our inability to embrace by the
imagination ideas which the reason presents to us.
The sentiment of this disproportion is accompanied
with a kind of sadness, because it apprizes us in one
relation of our weakness; but in another relation it
exalts us, because we feel ourselves superior by our
reason to the world of sensible things.
The criticism of the teleological judgment contains
the theory of nature, according to the principle of
final causes, or the relation of means to ends, appli
ed not to the forms, but to the constitution of things.
It considers beings as organized to attain certain
particular ends, and each special organization as a
dependance of a general organization of nature, in
which particular ends are onlythe means of a su.
preme and universal end. Here the criticism of the
teleological judgment results in the religious ideas, of
which the practical reason had demonstrated the re.
ality.
Observations.
In order to a right apprehension of the character
of the philosophy of Kant, it should be compared with
the three great schools founded by Descartes, Bacon,
and Leibnitz.
1. Like Descartes, Kant made psychology the ba.
sis of philosophy. But Descartes, after having at
the outset concentrated his mind upon the contemplation of the thinking me, attempted immediately to
pass outward, and by the notion of God to connect
the speculations of reason with an external reality,
the source of all reality. Kant, on the contrary,
fundamentally destroyed all relation between specu.
lation and external realities; he confined himself




KANT.                  11 1
within an order of ideas purely subjective, from
whence he could not come out, even by his theory of
practical reason, but by doing violence to the principles established in his theory of speculative reason.
By attributing to the practical reason a validity which
he denied to the speculative, he fell into a radical inconsistency, since the practical reason had its basis
necessarily in ideas borrowed from the speculative
reason.
2. The philosophy of Kant, while fundamentally
separated from the sensualism of the school of Bacon, came near to it, nevertheless, in its consequen.
ces.  Three sorts of sensualism may be distinguished.  There is a sensualism which maintains at once
sensation as the sole principle of knowledge, and the
sensible world as the sole sphere in which the intelligence can exercise itself.  This is complete sensualism. There is another sensualism, which, while setting out from sensation, pretends to deduce from it
the knowledge of realities distinct from sensible ob.
jects. Lastly, there are theories sensualist in their
results, in the sense that they deny to man the pos.
sibility of knowing realities lying beyond the senses,
though they admit, in the formation of human knowledge, a principle distinct from sensation, but which
can apply itself only to elements furnished by sensation itself. Such is the foundation of the doctrine of
Kant, although he attempted to escape this result in
the practical sphere by the inconsistency that has just
been noticed.
3. The idealist tendency of the philosophy of Leibnitz is evidently reproduced in the theories of Kant.
According to Leibnitz, the knowledge of nature and
its laws is produced by the purely internal developmrent of the soul.  According to Kant, the soul imposes upon nature its own laws.  But Leibnitz ad



112          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
mitted that the soul is representative of external re.
ality: Kant denied this representation.  On the one
hand, all ideas d priori are merely simple forms of
the intelligence; on the other hand, intuitions teach
us nothing of the nature of things. All that man
can affirm. is that he is placed in a world of appearances, which he combines according to the laws of
his reason.
4. The influence of the philosophy of Kant is due
particularly to two causes.  First, it had, as we have.
seen, its roots in the three great anterior philosophies.; secondly, it pretended to supply their insufciency by deterrmining, from a complete criticism of
the reason, which had been partially attempted by
Descartes, the laws according to which the sensualist
principle, represented by Bacon, and the idealist prin.
ciple, represented by Leibnitz, should be combined
without overpassing their respective limits.
Continuation of the Philososhical Movement in Get.
maple.
While many German writers defended, with Herder, the empirical philosophy against Kantism, and
while others, with Eberhard and Platner, maintained
many of the Leibnitzian doctrines, Kantism provoked
two opposite results: the one was a reaction, repre.
sented by Jacobi; the other was a development, represented by Reinhold, and, above all, by Fichte.
JACOBI.
FRED. HENRY JACOBI, who was born in 1743 and
died in 1804, maintained that all rationalistic philosophy resulted either in pantheism if it was dogmatical, or in skepticism, at least in respect to everything
connected with religious or moral truth, if it confined itself within the limits of criticisn as establish



FICHITE.               113
ed by Kant. Instead of taking reason as the basis
of human knowledge, he substituted sentiment, which
reveals to us in an immediate manner, instinctive and
independent of all rational conception, both the sen.
sible world and the moral and religious world. Sen.
timent, which is originally a pure belief, destitute of
all proof, produces in its development all the elements
of which human reason is composed.
On the other hand, Leonard Reinhold (born in
1759, died in 1825) pretended to complete the work
of Kant, and believed he had given him the unity
which he was accused of wanting, by reducing all
parts of his system to a single principle, consciousness considered as the representative faculty.  He
devoted himself particularly to describing the char.
acteristics of this fundamental faculty.
FICHTEo
BUT it was chiefly Fichte who developed the Kant.
ian philosophy.  JOHN THEOPHILUS  FICHTE, born in
Lusatia in 1762, succeeded Reinhold in the philo.
sophical chair at Jena, afterward professed the trans.
cendental philosophy at Erlangen, and was finally
appointed rector of the University of Berlin.  He
died in 1814.  The substance of his philosophy is
contained in his work on the Futndamental Principles
of all Scientific Doctrine.
Exposition.
Kant had attempted to avoid absolute idealism by
admitting that sensible intuitions correspond to ex.
ternal realities.  Jacobi saw in this only an inconsistency, and predicted that Kantism would resolve
itself into pure idealism. And, in point of fact, why
was it that Kant refused to the conceptions of reason




114          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
an objective validity? It was because this validity
could not be demonstrated. But it is equally imnpossible to demonstrate the objective validity of sensible intuitions. They must, then, needs come to be
considered likewise as simple subjective phenomena.
Such was the point of view taken by Fichte.  Accordingly, he held all realities to be only creations of
the thinking principle, and all existence only thought
itself.
In separating the fundamental conceptions of
Fichte from the logical circumlocutions in which he
has enveloped them, and which involve them in great
obscurity, we may, it seems to us, reduce his views
to the following principles:
1. The me first posits itself in an absolute and
unlimited manner by an act of pure free.will.
2. It is of the essence of the me to fall back upon
itself in reflection.  It is at once subject and object.
3. The me cannot thus posit itself without determining itself by the not-me. For the me as object
must appear in a certain relation as not-me to the
me as subject.
4. In determining itself by the not-me, the me arrests its own activity; it becomes limited and divisible.
5. Then springs up the faculty of feeling, which
is only the faculty of perception, the limitation of
the free activity of the me.
6. From hence are derived all our notions of a
twofold reality, of spirit and of the world, of freedom and of necessity.
7. The me, so far forth as will, recognises itself
as independent of the universe and as acting upon it.
So far forth as intelligence, it projects itself as de.
pendant upon the universe and dependent upon its
action.




FICHTE.                 115
In his work on the Destination of Man, Fichte dedllces from his Doctrine of Science the necessity of
belief or faith as the indispensable ground of all hu
man activity.
[The foregoing indications are so brief, that it is
thought best to subjoin a few observations, less, how.
ever, in the expectation of rendering Fichte's views
generally intelligible, than as due to a system so celebrated in the history of philosophy.
Fichte's special object was to construct a system
in which the matter and form of all science should
be deduced from one and the same principle, and
thus to solve the problem of the relation of ideas to
their objects: a problem on which had always turn.
ed the everlasting conflict between idealism and realism. He would thus give to philosophy the systematic unity, with the want of which the system of
Kant had been reproached.
Accordingly, he took for his starting.point a primitive act of the personal thinking self, from which he
deduces consciousness itself, as well as all its phenomena.
The popular philosophy assumes the reality of ex.
ternal objects, and that the mind both acts upon them
and is acted upon by them. But this leaves the essen.
tial contradiction between matter and spirit, and the
possibility of this twofold action, unexplained. Fichte
avoided the contradiction by making external or
objective reality a mere limitation of the activity of
the mind. The thinking principle posits itself as
determined by the objective, and also as determin.
ing the objective. Hence we have, as a fact of




116          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
consciousness, the conception of reality external to
ourselves; but Fichte denies the veracity of consciousness; the conception is all the reality there is.
When we conceive objects as external to ourselves,
the mind merely removes a reality as out of itself, to
transfer it as to something that is not itself.  When
we conceive external objects as acting upon our
minds, it is merely the mind limiting its own activity,
and positing the object as not ourselves, while in re.
ality it is we ourselves that act, and not any real objects out of ourselves.  Everything is thus reduced
to two different aspects of one and the same essential fact; sometimes we conceive the mind as active
and objects as passive, sometimes the reverse.
In order to find the ground of this self-limitation
in the thinking principle, Fichte distinguishes between the thinking principle considered as activity
and considered as intelligence. The absolute per.
sonal self is an infinite fiee activity, containing in
its.essential nature the impulse to action, production,
or creation; but the actions of an active principle,
even of an infinite one, must of necessity be special
determinations of its activity, that is, limited and
finite. The absolute thinking principle, by this limitation, is evolved as intelligence; this limitation
appears to the intelligence as the not-self opposed to
the self, as the finite opposed to the infinite; and it
constitutes all the objective reality there is.  Thus
the finite self or intelligence, and the world, are both
equally demonstrated, indeed, because both are products of the absolute active principle, the absolute
self.
Thus all contradiction between spirit and matter
is removed on the system of Fichte, but it is only
by the destruction of the latter.  The chasm between
the infinite and finite is also removed, but it is by




FICHTE.                 117
the absorption of the finite and of the infinite into
consciousness, and of all into thought. All the reality in the universe is expressed in the single word I.
Yet the whole system is built upon an assumption
which is arbitrary and groundless; the absolute I of
Fichte is contradictory and impossible. Besides,
this primitive act of the thinking principle by which
it absolutely posits itself, and the not-self as opposed
to itself, is a fact not falling within the history of experience, and we are made to get it by a process
which he calls intellectual intuition, which, in fact, is
nothing but an hypothesis illegitimately imposed upon
his theory.
Fichte, after having thus destroyed by his speculative idealism the belief in the reality of an external
world, and left nothing but a concatenation of purely
phenomenal illusions, endeavoured in his moral system
to ground the truths requisite for morality upon our
belief in conscience. The principle of morals is ab.
solute obedience to conscience. His ethics were of
ascetic strictness.  Faith in conscience requires us
to believe in the existence of a spiritual world, and
even of a sensible world, and also in the possibility
of realizing the ideal prescribed by duty.
God is merely the moral order of the universe, a
conception to which the mind rises from the con.
sciousness of duty. We need not conceive God as
a distinct being by himself, intelligent and personal,
and the cause of this moral order; and there are difficulties in the way of so conceiving him: by ascribing
to him these attributes, we make him finite, like ourselves; and we have the notion of creation to. ex.
plain, which cannot rationally be done.
The supreme good is gained in the world of mor.




118          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
al order by virtue.  The supreme good is not happiness, which does not and cannot exist.
These views, unfolded in a paradoxical spirit, were
considered a sort of atheism. They are inconsistent
with all proper ideas of God; and, though Fichte did
not admit this, yet he afterward renounced them.
He varied his modes of expression, indeed, and even
his doctrines, in his later writings.  He had set out
at first with the activity of the thinking principle; in
the later form of his doctrine, he set out with the absolute existence of God as the sole reality and the
sole life. In its first form, his doctrine was atheistical; in the second, pantheistical. The philosophy of
Schelling seems to have contributed to this change
of ideas.]
Skeptical Reaction against Kant.
Before complete idealism had been introduced by
Fichte in the school of Kant, a skeptical reaction
had been excited against Kantism. The philosophy
of Kant had announced the pretension of establishing upon an immovable basis the structure of hu.
man knowledge, and of sapping the foundations of
skepticism. A philosopher (G. E. Schulze), under
the name Enesidemus, undertook to show, on the
contrary, that it could do nothing but confirm the
skeptical philosophy, because, after destroying the
bases admitted by anterior systems, it substituted no.
thing more solid in their place; and that the demon.
strations with which it pretended to replace the gra.
tuitous assertions of other philosophers, were them.
selves at bottom only assertions equally devoid of
proof.




MODERN PHILOSOPHY.            1 19
[ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN THE PERIOD BETWEEN LOCKE
AND REID.
BEFORE proceeding to an exposition of the principles of the Scottish school, so called, of which the
founder and chief representative is Reid, it seems
proper to interpose, in addition to what has been said
of Hume and Berkeley, some farther remarks on the
progress of English philosophy in the interval be.
tween Locke and Reid.
It has already been seen how, in the seventeenth
century, the moral consequences of Hobbes's empir.
icism produced a reaction represented by Cudworth
and others.
The publication of Locke's Essay on the Understanding was followed by a rapid development of
skepticism, materialism, and atheism. Opposition
to his system was not, however, wanting; it was
early assailed in behalf of religion by Henry Lee
and John Norris; also by Bishops Stillingfleet and
Brown; and its defects were pointed out by Shaftesbury, in his Letters of a Nobleman to a Young Man
at the University.
Among those who turned the principles of Hobbes
and Locke against the received doctrines of religion
and morals was William Coward, who wrote several
treatises against the immateriality of the soul. He
was combated by Turner and Brughton. The natural mortality of the soul was likewise maintained
by Henry Dodwell. Anthony Collins, a friend and
pupil of Locke, applied the principles of his master
to skeptical and infidel conclusions, combating the
freedom of man and the evidences of Christianity.
Against these two latter, and particularly Collins,




120         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
numerous adversaries appeared, among the most em.
inent of whom was the celebrated Dr. Samuel Clarke,
who vigorously opposed the new doctrines of Hobbes
and Locke. Maintaining a necessary harmony be.
tween revealed religion and reason, he attempted to
furnish a new demonstration of the Being and At.
tributes of God. He held space and time to be at.
tributes of a substance; and as they are necessarily
conceived as infinite, so likewise must be the subject of them. That infinite substance is God. He
deduced the immortality of the soul from the idea
of immaterial being.
Systems of Disinterested Morals.
But it was chiefly against the ethical system of
Hobbes and Locke that the reaction of the English
mind was directed. There arose a series of writers,
who combated the selfish system with great ability,
and maintained a disinterested morality, seeking at
the same time to demonstrate the fundamental truths
of morals, independently of revelation, by the method
of psychological observation. They have shed great
light upon the facts of man's moral constitution, and
incidentally upon the origin of ideas and the mental
faculties in general.  These writers contributed very
powerfully to check the progress of exclusive sensu.
alism; to prevent such a development as it received
in France; and to prepare the way for the more sys.
tematic labours of Reid.
But while these writers all agree in maintaining,
in opposition to the selfish system, that our moral
ideas cannot be resolved into sensations, and that the
motive of moral action is disinterested, they differ
from each other as to the principle of morals. One
class refers our moral ideas to a sentiment or instinct




SHAFTESBUTRY.              121
which has its basis in a special faculty, termed some.
times the moral faculty, conscience, or, more strictly
in conformity with their views, the moral sense.
The other class refers our moral ideas to reason.
To the first class belong Shaftesbury, Butler, and
I1utcheson; to the second, Wollaston, Clarke, and
Price.
Intermediate between these is a class of writers
who resolve our moral ideas into some form of in.
stinctive sentiment, but not to a special moral sense
of these are Hume and Adam Smith.
Systems of the Moral Sense.
Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of SHAFTESBURY,
was born in 1671. Obliged by his delicate health
to retire from public affairs, he devoted his leisure
to philosophy and letters. He died in 1713.
Shaftesbury was the first philosopher who profess.
ed this system, and the first who introduced into the
language of philosophy the term moral sense.
He divided our desires into two distinct classes:
benevolent or social, and personal affections. Affec.
tions of the first class prompt us instinctively to love
the happiness of others for its own sake. The ap.
probation we feel for conduct conformed to the be.
nevolent affections is distinct in its nature from any
reference to our own personal advantage. It is referable to the moral sense, which is a special faculty
and a distinct part of our constitution, as much as
our external senses are special faculties appropriated
respectively to the apprehension of their special objects. The office of the moral sense is to apprehend
and approve moral good, and to feel obligation. The
affections of our nature which are agreeable to this
sense are, on that account, morally good; the con.
trary, morally bad.  In our constitution, the moral
i-10lo




122          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
sense is superior to the outward senses; the benev.
olent to the personal affections.  Virtue consists in
giving them this supremacy, in the actual predomi.
nance of the former over the latter.
Such is the system of Shaftesbury. The principle
of our nature which distinguishes moral good and
evil is a special instinct or sense, distinct from all
other functions of the intelligence, whether sensation
or reason; distinct also from the benevolent affections,
which are the objects of its approval, and from the
personal affections, which it subordinates to the benevolent affections.
JOSEPH BUTLER was born in 1692.  He studied
at Oxford; was preacher at the Rolls, and clerk of
the closet to Queen Caroline; made Bishop of Bristol
in 1738, of Durham in 1750. He died in 1752.
His Fifteen Sermons were published in 1726; his
Analogy in 1736. His moral system is contained
chiefly in the sermons.
Without professedly adopting the theory of the
moral sense, he contributed very powerfully to its
development.  His works contain the germes of
some of the fundamental ideas afterward unfolded by
Hutcheson.
Butler, like Shaftesbury, divides our instinctive af.
fections into personal and benevolent; but he was
the first who recognised that both these classes of
our instinctive affections are equally disinterested:
fear, hunger, etc., are no more selfish than pity,
sympathy, etc.; they equally seek their respective
objects directly, and without seeking anything be.
yond. Selfishness consists, not in the development of
our personal instinctive affections, but in their be.
ing made supreme by our reflection and consent.
This distinction between the objects of our in.




HUTCHESON.                123
stinctive affections, and the agreeable or disagreeable
feelings attending their satisfaction or disappoint.
ment, is the eminent original merit of Butler.
But, besides the instinctive affections both person.
al and benevolent, Butler recognises a superior principle, whose office it is to distinguish moral good and
evil.  This principle he calls conscience.  In virtue
of it we judge of our dispositions and affections, and
feel the sentiment of obligation.  Its perceptions are
instinctive and immediate.  Its authority is supreme.
Moral good is that which conscience apprehends as
such; the motive for doing it is that conscience so
commands.
Butler does not precisely define the nature of con.
science, and leaves it doubtful whether he considered
it a sense or a rational faculty. He does not, however, explicitly declare the judgment of moral actions
and the perception of obligation to be one of the
functions of reason or intelligence in general; and
on this account, as well as that his leading ideas have
all been adopted by the sentimental moralists who
followed him, he is classed among those who more
expressly taught the system of the moral sense.
FRANCIS HUTCHESON was born in -Ireland in 1694;
studied at Glasgow; returned to Dublin, where he
resided for some years as a Dissenting preacher and
head of an academy; became professor of philoso.
phy at Glasgow in 1729, where he died in 1747.
His earliest work was an " Inquiry into our Ideas of
Beauty and Virtue;" his last, a " System of Moral
Philosophy," was published after his death by his son
in 1755.
From Hutcheson the system indicated by Shaftes.
bury and Butler received a full development. He
likewise divides our affections into personal and be.




124          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
nevolent; those which seek our own good, and those
which seek the good of others. But the point which
he particularly labours in the first place to illustrate
is that we desire the happiness of others directly for
its own sake, so that benevolence can no more be explained by selfishness than selfishness by benevolence. Benevolence is a simple original impulse, not
to be resolved into any other any more than self-love.
But, distinct from self-love and benevolence, there
is a third affection of our nature, the moral senti.
ment. The idea of moral good is distinct both from
that of our own good and from that of another's
good: it cannot be explained by them; it is primi.
tive and simple.
As the idea of moral good is simple, he concludes
that the quality represented by it must be perceived
by some sense, because all other simple qualities are
perceived by particular senses; and that the sense
must be a peculiar and distinct sense, because the
quality it perceives is distinct from all others. This
point, that the moral faculty is an internal sense,
and not reason exercised in relation to certain objects, Hutcheson takes great pains to prove. He
therefore confirms the foregoing argument by two
considerations, namely, that the perception of moral
goodness produces pleasure, and that it appears to us
a motive of action. This pleasure is a result of the
quality perceived, and therefore moral goodness can.
not be resolved into the pleasure, any more than the
quality of beauty can be resolved into the pleasurewhich accompanies the perception of it; a perception which Hutcheson also attributes to a special in.
ternal sense. The moral sense is the supreme prin.
ciple.
The reality and supremacy of this principle being
established, he next determines what are the dispo



HUME S ETHICAL SYSTEM.           125
sitions of the soul in which reside the quality of moral goodness perceived by the moral sense. These
are only the benevolent or disinterested affections.
The personal affections which regard our own hap.
piness may be innocent, when in subordination are
so, but are not virtuous.
The moral sense, not only perceiving moral qualities, but experiencing likewise pleasure and the de.
sires connected therewith, becomes the motive of
moral action.  The office of reason is reduced to
that of devising means to attain the ends which our
senses make known and to which our desires im.
pel us.
Modifications of the System of Moral Sense.
There were other philosophers, who, while agree.
ing in the general views of the advocates of disinterested morality just expounded, that the words right
and wrong express certain qualities in actions which
it is the province, not of reason, but of feeling, to per.
ceive, and that by this principle we are impelled to
moral action instinctively, and therefore not by a
view to our own personal pleasure or advantage, yet
differed from Hutcheson and his predecessors by denying the moral sense as a special distinct faculty,
and by analyzing it into other more general princi.
ples. Of these it will be sufficient to mention Hume
and Adam Smith.
HRUNrE resolves our moral ideas into a feeling of
approbation or disapprobation. The moral quality
of goodness, or that which excites our approbation,
is utility; not merely personal, but general utility.
This leaves room to consider the personal affections
as good when subordinated to the benevolent affections.  We approve or disapprove useful or hurtful




1 26        MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
actions by an instinct of our nature, which needs and
can receive no explanation any more than our like or
dislike of sweet or bitter.  This constitution of our
nature, by which we approve of utility in the general,
is what men call conscience; Hume calls it humanity.
It is quite distinct from the selfish impulse, to which
it is frequently allied.
Good and evil, virtue and vice, are merely relative
to our constitution. They have no objective reality
no absolute and immutable character.
But the most celebrated of all the theories of dis.
interested morality, grounded in instinct or sentiment,
is that of ADAM SMITH, contained in his Theory of
the Moral Sentiments.  Adam Smith was born at
Kirkaldy, in Scotland, in 1723. He was educated at
Glasgow and at Oxford; elected professor of logic
in the University of Glasgow in 1751, of moral phi.
losophy the year following; published his Theory of
Moral Sentiments in 1759; resigned his professor-:hip in 1763; passed the last years of his life at Edinburgh, where he died in 1790. His celebrated
Wealth of Nations appeared in 1771. He was one
of the most original thinkers that have ever written
in the English language. He was the founder of
the science of political economy; and his work on
morals is no less distinguished for its originality, in.
genuity, and comprehensiveness; containing such a
rich collection of the most important facts, that, notwithstanding his erroneous conclusions, it is a work
of the greatest value to the student of human nature.
Only a brief sketch of his system can here be
given.
The principle of morals is with him sympathy or
fellow-feeling. This is a principle deeply implanted
in human nature. It disposes us to enter into the




ADAM SMITH.              127
feelings of others; it increases the strength of our
feelings when shared by others; it begets in us a
strong desire that our own feelings should be shared
by others. This principle likewise manifests itself
in, or contains the explanation of antipathies. It is
governed by various laws, which are acutely described and established by Smith. So much for the principle of sympathy in general, which Smith has employed for the explanation of a vast variety of facts
of human nature.
He applies this principle to the explanation of moral phenomena in the following way:
We approve the sentiments of our fellow-men
when we share them or instinctively sympathize with
them; we disapprove when we do not share them;
and in both cases in proportion to the degree of our
instinctive sympathy or antipathy. In like manner
we approve or disapprove their actions, according as
we do or do not sympathize with the sentiments from
which they spring. The measure of moral good, or
rectitude, or, as Smith terms it, propriety, is this in.
stinctive sympathy. In this way we judge of the
conduct of our fellow-men.
Our moral judgments of our own conduct are only
applications to our sentiments and actions of judgments we have already passed with respect to our
fellow-men. We thus become, in a sort, spectators
of our own dispositions and actions, and instinctively
sympathize with them or feel repugnant to them, as
though they were the dispositions and actions of oth.
er men.-Sympathy, however, being the sole root of
moral judgment, and primarily excited towards oth.
ers, it followers that, if man should live alone, he
would have no moral feelings or judgments.
From this twofold application of the principle of
sympathy we get the most general and fundamental




128          MODERN PHILOSOPHY
principle of morality: the goodness of an action is in
direct proportion to the general approbation or sym.
pathy it excites, the best actions exciting universal
and unmingled sympathy.
From hence, too, the fundamental maxim of mor.
als: act so that mankind may sympathize with you.
Experience enables us to learn the feelings awa.
kened by sentiments and conduct; and the facts of
experience generalized furnish the various particular rules of conduct which constitute practical eth.
ics. We act from duty (in distinction from the im.
mediate instinct of sympathy) when we act in conformity with these rules.
The fundamental phenomenon of moral distinc.
tions being thus explained, the secondary phenomena
are all easily explained in a corresponding way. The
sentiment of merit and demerit is awakened first in
relation to others; it is compounded of indirect sym.
pathy with the person to whom the action is beneficial or injurious, and of a direct sympathy or antipathy towards the affections and motives of the agent.
Seyfapprobation and remorse, with respect to our
own disposition and conduct, are explained in like
manner, through our power of constructing ourselves
as spectators of ourselves, and thus experiencing the
pleasurable or painful sympathy excited by proper or
improper dispositions.
Actions, which, by the instinctive principle of sym.
pathy, are decided to be proper (right) and merito.
rious, and which by experience we are enabled to
generalize under rules of conduct, are also the subject of a rational judgment of approbation in mature
and cultivated minds, who are able to perceive the
harmony between, the instinct and the rules of experience, and also to perceive the tendency of such ac.




ADAM  SMITIH.             129
tions to bring the sentiments of all men into harmo.
ny, and promote the perfection of order. This order
and harmony is felt to be beautiful. It is moral beauty, the source of all beauty, and produces a pleasure
like that of a perfect piece of mechanism.  This harmony of sentiment among men is the great end of
our moral constitution.
It is a strict consequence of the system of Smith,
that whatever others approve and praise will appear
to us good, and what they blame will appear to us
bad; and that the rule of conduct is the approbation
of our fellow.men.
The instinctive desire of sympathy is the motive
of all virtue, of all right conduct; a motive that
sometimes operates directly, and sometimes indirectly, by the rules generalized from experience, but al.
ways to the exclusion of other motives.
Yet Smith confesses in many cases a good act will
not always secure the sympathy and praise of men;
that a virtuous man may sometimes have to brave
the dislike of his fellows, and even the whole spirit
of his age. To reconcile this with his system, he ap.
peals to the judgment of a supposed impartial specta.
tor, free from the passions and prejudices which per.
vert the sympathies of particular men or communities. But this impartial spectator is obviously but
an abstract spectator, and is, in fact, nothing but the
absolute and immutable judgment of that very reason or conscience which Smith repudiates, and to
which he has, by his system, no right to appeal.
By a similar sophism of clandestine introduction
of another principle, he endeavours to avoid the consequences of making the desire of praise the motive
of virtue, by sliding from the idea of the desire of
praise into that of being praiseworthy: a distinction
jj,-1 1




130          MODERN PHII OSOPHY.
which he cannot legitimately make, since it implies
a standard not allowed in his system.
The instinctive systems of morals were animated
by two different feelings: on the one hand, a dislike
to the selfish system, and on the other, to the rational system. In Shaftesbury and Butler the predominant sentiment is opposition to the selfish system of
Hobbes and Locke. They seem to have had no hos.
tility to the rational system; Butler, indeed, as has
been seen, leaves it doubtful whether by conscience,
or the moral faculty, he meant anything more than
a peculiar application of reason. Hutcheson and
Hume, on the contrary, explicitly oppose the ration.
al system. They no less distinctly deny reason to be
the principle of moral ideas, than sensation in the
meaning of the selfish school.
Rational Systems.
Of the rational systems, the characteristic common
to them all is that of finding the origin of our moral
ideas and judgments in reason. They take this
ground in order to establish the absolute and immu.
table nature of moral distinctions both against the
selfish system and against the systems of sentiment.
They agree with the latter in asserting the disinterested character of moral motives; but they object
against them that they make right and wrong relative to a contingent and fluctuating principle, and destroy their objective reality.  Of those who held to
the rational systems, some attempt to define the idea
of good; others regard it as simple and undefinable.
To the former class belong Wollaston and Clarke;
to the latter, Price.
WILLIAM WOLLASTON was born in 1659; educated




WOLLASTON.                131
at Cambridge; was a teacher in Birmingham school
until 1688, when, an ample fortune falling to him, he
settled in London, and passed his life in studious re.
tirement. He died in 1724. Of his writings, the
best known is his Religion of Nature Delineated, in
which his moral system is stated.
According to Wollaston, good is truth; and the
fundamental law of action is to confobrm our conduct
to truth.
Every action which denies a true proposition is
bad. A true proposition may be denied by omission
as well as by commission.
The nature of moral evil being thus determined,
and good being the opposite of evil, the nature of
good is likewise determined, and, consequently, the
nature of actions, whether good, bad, or indifferent.
A good action is one whose omission or whose oppo.
site would be bad, that is, contradictory to the truth.
As truth and falsehood are in their nature immutable, so likewise are moral good and evil.
Such is the system of Wollaston, who thus seeks
to define the idea of good. It is obvious to remark
upon it: 1. That it mistakes one of the aspects or
qualities of moral good for its essence: every good
action does indeed contain the practical expression
of a true proposition; but every true proposition,
when expressed in action, does not involve the qual.
ity of moral good. 2. It confounds good and evil
by its too comprehensive definition, for there is no
bad action which does not contain some true propositions. 3. Many actions may imply the denial of
true propositions, and therefore be absurd, while in
a moral view indifferent. 4. This system is not in
accordance with facts of consciousness; when we
abstain from doing a wrong act, our motive is not
the fear,f contradicting a true proposition.




132          MODERN PHI LOSOPf0lY
SAMUEL CLARKE was born in 1675; educated at
Cambridge, and became a clergyman of the Estab.
lished Church. He published a great number of
writings in theology, mathematics, metaphysics, and
classical literature. Hle was the friend of Newton,
some of whose works he translated and commented
upon. Hie distinguished himself as a controversial
writer, particularly against Leibnitz. He died in
1724.
Clarke seeks, as well as Wollaston, to define the
nature of moral good. He sets out with the ques.
tion concerning the motive of obligation, and brings
out his idea of the nature of good in that connexion.
He took this method because he was opposing the
system of Hobbes, who made self-interest the found.
ation of duty. He examines and rejects all the
forms in which the selfish theory is presented, and
then propounds his own system, which is as follows:
All things in the universe have their proper nature,
derived from God. According to the respective na.
tures of things arise various relations. As the essence of things is immutable, so are their relations.
These relations constitute universal order. These
relations are conceived by reason; they are con.
ceived as the laws of things; and reason immedi.
ately concludes that they should be respected by ra.
tional and free beings. Hence, from the perception
of relations arises the idea of obligation. When
actions are conformed to these relations, they are
good; when contrary, bad. Thus he arrives at the
idea of the nature of good in itself, namely, order.
There is an essential agreement between order and
reason. Reason recognises good as order, and there.
upon immediately arises the conviction of obligation.
The relations of things are not the product of the
mere, arbitrary will of God.




PRICE.                 133
This is the same system that was afterward main.
tained by Montesquieu. It is liable to the same gen.
eral objections as that of Wollaston.  It is too com.
prehensive; it mistakes ideas which are related to
the idea of good for the essence of good: a good
action is certainly conformable to the nature and re.
lations of things; but not every action conformed to
the nature of things is morally good; many are
morally indifferent.
RICHARD PRICE was born in 1723.  He was a
Dissenting minister at Hackney.  He wrote largely
upon political subjects, in a democratic spirit.  His
moral system is contained in his Review of the
Principal Questions and Difficulties in Morals. He
died in 1791. As a moral philosopher, he maintained substantially the same system as that adopted by
Cudworth, the principal difference being that the
views of the latter received a particular form of development, as against the selfish system of Hobbes,
while those of Price were expounded chiefly in opposition to the system of Hutcheson. He was a
thinker of admirable penetration and sagacity, and
contributed very much not only to the support of dis.
interested morals, but to resist the progress of the
sensual system in general.
Hutcheson had taught that our ideas of good and
evil are simple and original; as such, necessarily de.
rived from a sense. From this it would follow, in
strictness, that our ideas of good and evil do not designate real qualities of actions, but only the sensations which they produce in us, and therefore are
as much relative to us as sweet and bitter. This
conclusion Price perceived; he saw that the conse.
quence of' Hutcheson's system was not substantially
1T




134          MODERN rHILOSOPHY.
different in this respect from that of the selfish sys.
temrn; for the selfish system makes the good and evil
of an action relative merely to the pleasure or pain
it produces.  Hutcheson was led to his notion of
a moral sense because, while, on the one hand, he
wished to oppose the selfish system and to maintain
disinterested morality, he yet, on the other hand,
held the system of Locke, that all our simple ideas
are derived from experience; he had, therefore, no
way to avoid the moral consequences of Locke's
system but to add to the senses recognised by Locke
a special sense, appropriated exclusively to the perception of moral objects, which he therefore termed
the moral sense.
In order, therefore, to establish a disinterested morality, and at the same time to establish that moral
good and evil were not merely relative, but immutable and absolute, Price was led at the outset to attack the system of Locke. He therefore drew up a
complete, simple, and beautiful demonstration of the
insufficiency of the theory of Locke concerning the
origin of ideas: a demonstration to which Reid, Stew.
art, and succeeding writers have added nothing original or material. He proved that there are ideas
which cannot be resolved into experience, such as
the ideas of cause, time, space, etc.; and as these
ideas can neither be denied (as Hume attempted to
do), nor resolved into experience in the sense of
Locke, they must be admitted as simple primitive
conceptions. If we admit them only as mere forms
of the mind, as Kant afterward did, we fall into uni.
versal skepticism. We have no alternative, there.
fore, but to admit them as conceptions of real facts,
as ideas which represent external realities, simply in.
telligible and not visible. These conceptions must
therefore be referred to an exercise of the intelligence




PRICE.                 135
distinct from the empirical understanding which relates to the -sensible qualities of things; they must
be referred to intuitive reason, which takes cognizance of invisible relations transcending all observation and experience.
Price therefore agrees with Hutcheson in consid.
ering our ideas of good and evil as simple and prim.
itive, and therefore derived from a faculty capable of
giving them. He agrees with him in saying that
we perceive good and evil in actions as we perceive
extension and form in bodies. But here they part:
Hutcheson concludes that these ideas can be only
ideas of sensation, and therefore of a special (mor.
al) senee, affected, as all sensibility, agreeably or dis.
agreeably by the good or evil; Price denies this conclusion, and attributes the ideas of good and evil to
a source of simple and primitive ideas overlooked by
Hutcheson-intuitive reason.
Thus establishing the origin of our moral ideas in
the a priori conceptions of reason, the relative and
subjective character which they have in Hutcheson's
system vanishes. Moral good and evil are immuta.
blt; they are what they are as necessarily and eter.
n Ly as a triangle or circle is what it is. Every
t ie moral judgment expresses absolute and eternal
ath.
Price asserts the idea of good to be simple, and
herefore undefinable as much as any other simple
tuality. In this respect he differs from the other
solders of the rational system, Wollaston and Clarke.
In the way of direct proof that the idea of good is
indefinable, of course nothing can be adduced beyond a simple appeal to consciousness, any more
than in the case of whiteness, or any other simple
notion. Indirectly he attempts to prove it, by review.
ing the different definitions that have been given




136         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
both by rational and instinctive moralists. He shows
that they are not definitions; that they are inade.
quate; that they all presuppose the thing to be defined; that they are dangerous.
Price recognises the fact that the contemplation
of good and evil actions produces a sentiment which
we express in common language by calling them
pleasing or displeasing, lovely or hateful, etc. But
he makes a distinction which is original and peculiar
to himself. This sentiment or affection is of two
kinds, partly depending upon the constitutional sensibility of each individual, and partly independent of
it, absolute, and attached to reason itself.
Connected immediately with the idea of good is
the idea of obligation, which springs up with it, rests
upon it, and is equally immutable and absolute.
This rational conception of obligation is the only
motive of moral action.
The conception of merit and demerit, that right
doing deserves happiness, and evil doing punishment,
is equally absolute, and springs up immediately upon
the idea of good, and of obligation obeyed or violated.
This rational conception is distinct from the fact that
virtue is a source of pleasure, or that it is useful to
society, and that vice is in both respects injurious: it
is a necessary conception, independent of the consid.
eration of the consequences of virtue and vice.
Reason and free-will are indispensable conditions
of moral action and accountability.
Absolute virtue consists in freely and intelligently
doing what is conformable to the moral law; practi.
cal virtue in doing what we believe to be conforma.
ble to it. Finite creatures are not absolutely exempt
from mistake in moral any more than in other judg.
ments.  Guilt or innocence in regard to a mistake
about duty are determined by the previous question
whether the means of knowing were honestly used.




HARTLEY.                137
Sensualism in England.
But, while the advocates of a disinterested moral.
ity were led, some of them, to repudiate altogether
the empirical philosophy of Locke, and others, though
continuing to hold his general theory of the origin
of ideas, to reject its moral conclusions, the selfish
system of morals was still maintained by others, and
the empiricism of Locke was carried out to a com.
plete system of materialism and fatalism. Of the
names that occur in this connexion during the period
now under review-the interval, namely, between
Locke and Reid-the most noticeable is that of
Hartley; to which, in respect to morals, may be
added that of Abraham Tucker.
DAVID HARTLEY was born in 1705; educated at
Cambridge; practised medicine in Nottinghamshire
and London; passed the latter part of his life at
Bath, where he died in 1757. His Observations on
Man were published in 1749.
This work contains a system of physiology, psy.
chology, morals, and theology. He grounds his
whole theory of the operations of the mind upon the
association of ideas, and that upon the hypothesis
of vibrations of the nerves in an oscillating nervous
ether. These vibrations are mechanically produced
by the impression of outward objects upon the nerves,
propagated in the medullary substance of the nerves
and brain; and a connexion between our bodies and
our souls is effected through the medium of a subtile
elastic ether, of which whole process the result is
the state of the mind called sensations or ideas. Different ideas may become associated from being pro.
duced contemporaneously (which common condition
of all the laws of association Hartley makes the sole




138          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
law), so that one idea or vibration will propagate itself to and reproduce another, though the proper original cause of the latter, the external object, does
not itself act at the time upon the nerves in reproducing its appropriate configurative vibration or idea.
With this hypothesis of vibrations mechanically
set in motion, and this one and only law of association, contemporaneousness, Hartley endeavoured to
explain all the phenomena of consciousness.
Ideas being with him nothing but certain determi.
nate, configurative vibrations, it was a matter of
course to find him analyzing Locke's theory of the
origin of ideas into exclusive sensualism. Accordingly, he declares that'; ideas of sensation are the
elements of which all the others are compounded,"
and that he hopes to succeed in analyzing " all ideas
of reflection and intellectual ideas into simple ideas of
sensation;" and farther, that " reflection is not a distinct
source [of ideas], as Mr. Locke makes it."  Hartley
thus proposed to perform  for Locke's theory, by
means of his principle of association, the same office
that Condillac in another way attempted —to strip it,
namely, of a needless and inconsistent appendage,
by showing that all ideas of reflection, so called, were
only sensations transformed.,
Hartley was not, however, a decided materialist,
although his followers at a later period pretended to
simplify and perfect his theory by rejecting the no.
tion of a thinking principle distinct from the body.
Hartley allows that his theory is destructive of all
the arguments" usually brought for the soul's imma.
teriality from the subtilty of the internal senses and
of the rational faculty," but at the same time acknowledges that " matter and motion," the only prin.
ciples in his mechanico.physiological theory of hu.
man phenomena, "however subtly divided or rea.




HARTLEY.                 139
soned upon, yield nothing but matter and motion
still." He therefore desires that "he may not in
any way be interpreted so as to oppose the imma.
teriality of the soul." From this it seems that he
must consent to leave the mode of the connexion be.
tween the brain and nerves and the soul, through the
medium of his ether, inexplicable.
But there are other conclusions concerning the
soul, repugnant to consciousness and subversive of
morals, which must necessarily follow, however they
might be disclaimed by him.
All the phenomena of the mind being merely sensations, or configurative vibrations mechanically pro.
duced, the soul must be a mere passive theatre, in
which the products of this blind mechanism are displayed.  It is destitute of all distinct faculties, of all
activities, whether spontaneous or voluntary, having
no power to control, determine, or modify the associ.
ations of ideas. The understanding, judgment, rea.
son, imagination, and will, instead of actively concurring as determining or modifying causes of as.
sociation, are merely its mechanical effects.
This result Hartley expressly admits in respect to
the human will, denying all freedom, all self-deter.
mining power in man, and maintaining all volitions
to be strictly necessary. But it is equally true of
all other modes of human activity. In all human
thinking, invention, and action, in science, art, and
conduct, the human soul is merely the spectator of
phenomena produced by an agent which itself knows
nothing of what it is doing.  We ourselves only
fancy that we reason, love, and will. There is no
intelligent activity in the universe except God, who
is the grand contriver and prime mover of this mech.
anism.
And even the idea of God, as a rational and holy




140          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
will, is utterly inconceivable and inadmissible in
Hartley's system.  His theory admits of no idea of
reason and free-will in man other than certain me.
chanical products of sensation; if these attributes
be ascribed to God in this sense, we have no God
properly speaking; and to suppose the mind to be in
possession of different and higher ideas of these
attributes as existing in God, would subvert his system.
The pious and excellent author derived, however,
no such conclusions. Though he holds the necessity
of human actions, and analyzes all virtue into the
love of happiness, yet his second volume, in which
he reasons to the common conclusions concerning
God and his attributes, is almost entirely independent
of the conclusions of his first. He adopts, indeed,
without seeming to be aware of the inconsistency,
as grounding principles, ideas which, if the doctrines
of his first volume be true, can have no existence
except in the vibrations of his ether.
ABRAHAM  TUCKER, author of Edward Search's
Light of Nature Pursued, 7 vols., 1768-1774, was
an English gentleman of fortune, born in 1705, edu.
cated at Oxford, and died in 1774. He adopted generally the principles of Locke, which he employed
chiefly in unfolding the mechanical proofs of the di.
vine existence, and in his theory of morals. It is
mainly in connexion with the latter that he is mentioned here as the author of a modification of the selfish system, which was afterward adopted and extended by Paley. Tucker cannot, indeed, be said to be
the original author of it; for it is substantially the
theory of Hartley, and before either of them, per.
haps, of Law, bishop of Carlisle.
According to this doctrine, our moral ideas are




REID.                  141
neither referred to reason nor to a moral sense, nor
any instinctive sentiment; they are merely the re.
sult of association, and are explained in the same
way as the formation of avarice, or any other sec.
ondary affection.  Money is at first desired for the
agreeable things of which it is the means; but subsequently the agreeable feelings become associated
with money itself, and it comes to be desired for itself, without immediate reference to the pleasures it
procures. So certain dispositions and actions, call.
ed moral, are atfirst approved or disapproved solely
on account of their tendency to procure our pleas.
ure or advantage; but in process of time we may
come to associate the feelings of moral approbation
and disapprobation with such dispositions and con.
duct, without reflecting on their tendency to procure
our pleasure. In this way he contrived to elude the
force of the arguments of Hutcheson and others
against the fundamental principle of the selfish sys.
tem, drawn from the undeniable fact of conscious.
ness, that men do often judge and act in relation to
moral objects instantaneously, and without any refer.
ence to their personal pleasure and advantage as the
motive. He admits the fact, but denies that it was
primitively so; and therefore maintains that all
moral judgments and volitions originate at bottom in
an interested personal motive.]
THE SCOTTISH SCHOOL.
REID.
THE philosophy of Hobbes and the psychology of
Locke had encountered resistance more or less pow.
erful even in England. It was felt that sensualism




142         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
destroyed the principle of moral obligation, and that
its true root must be sought elsewhere. Cumberland
and Shaftesbury, in the seventeenth century, had pla.
ced this principle in a sentiment of benevolence and
of internal satisfaction.  Hutcheson, in the eigh.
teenth century, improving the theory of benevolent
affections as the source of duties, had disengaged
them from any interested motive. [Other theories
have also been noticed.] But this spiritualist reaction was incomplete.  It supposed, or left it to be
supposed [except in the work of Price], that sensual.
ism, unable to establish moral notions, might never.
theless furnish the true basis of other orders of knowl.
edge. Banished from the sanctuary of duty, it still
reigned in the domain of speculation. But the reaction was soon generalized. Reid, who had been led
by the objections of Hume to perceive the ultimate
consequences of sensualism, attacked it not only as
a false theory of morals, but as a false theory of the
human mind.
Historical INotices.
Thomas Reid was born at Glasgow in 1710. He
was at first professor of philosophy at Aberdeen,
where he had pursued his studies; but in 1763 he was
called by the University of Glasgow to the chair of
moral philosophy, which had just before been filled
by Adam Smith. His philosophical theories are con.
tained in a treatise published under the title of Es.
says on the Powers of the Human Mind, which has
been translated into French by Jouffroy.  Reid had
put out separately the part relative to the active and
the part relative to the intellectual faculties; they
were united into a single work by his disciple Du.
gald Stewart. After the death of his master, Du.
gald Stewart cultivated and enlarged the intellectual




REID.                 143
inheritance which Reid had left him. But this sec.
ond representative of the Scottish school belongs, in
respect to the greater part of his works, to the nineteenth century.
yExposition.
All philosophy should rest upon the observation
of the operations of the human mind, and, conse.
quently, of the faculties which produce them. The
vices of the method that proceeds upon hypotheses,
and the uncertainty of that which proceeds upon
analogy, make us feel the necessity of this experimental basis.
The faculties of the human mind may be divided
into two classes, the contemplative and the active
faculties.  The first relate to the understanding, the
second to the will. But we must bear in mind that
these powers do not work separately; the understanding intervenes in the operations of the will, and
the will in the operations of the understanding.
1. Intellectual or Contemplative Powers. —The intellectual faculties are commonly divided into sim.
ple apprehension, judgment, and reasoning. This
classification is vicious: there are operations of the
mind which do not belong to either of these. For
example, consciousness, which makes me aware that
I am thinking, is not simple apprehension, since the
latter imports neither affirmation nor negation; nor
is it judgment, which is said to rest upon the compar.
ison of two ideas; for it is not in virtue of any such
comparison that we affirm our thinking. Nor is this
affirmation a product of reasoning.
Renouncing the pretension of finding a strict and
complete classification of the intellectual powers,
Reid limits himself to enumerating those which he
proposes to examine: they are: 1. The faculties




144          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
which belong to our external senses; 2. Memory,
3. Conception; 4. The faculty of analyzing complex
objects, and combining those that are simple; 5. Rea.
soning; 6. Taste; 7. Moral perception; 8. Consciousness.
In the faculties which belong to our senses, we
must distinguish between the perception of external
objects and the sensations which accompany it. Sen.
sation is the feeling experienced by the mind at the
presence of an external object; perception is the act
by which I believe in the existence of that object.
Perception is a pure belief, independent of all demonstration, and instinctively determined by the natural constitution of the human mind.
Most philosophers have endeavoured to explain the
fact of perception by saying that we do not perceive
external objects themselves, but only their images
present to our minds.  Reid rejects this explanation:
first, it is contrary to universal feeling; for all men,
when they follow solely the impulse of their nature,
believe they see the objects; secondly, this explana.
tion gratuitously takes for granted the existence of
images.  To affirm  their existence, they ground
themselves upon the reason that a thing cannot act
where it is not; from whence they conclude that the
mind and external objects, not being in the same
place, nor, consequently, immediately present to each
other, there must exist an intermediate image.  But
Reid denies that in the fact of perception there is
any action of the mind upon the object, or of the ob.
ject upon the mind.  For the rest, he undertakes not
to substitute any explanation in the place of the one
he rejects: perception is, in his view, an inexplica.
ble fact, as the certainty of perceptions, that is, the
real existence of the qualities perceived, and of the
subject called matter to which they belong, is in the




REIED.                 145
pihitosophy of Reid a belief equally necessary and obscure.
Memory implies a belief of the same nature, of
which we can give no other reason than that it is an
element in the constitution of our mind.
Reid describes and examines the different theories
that have been proposed respecting memory, and
particularly those of Locke and Hume. These the.
aries are a consequence of the hypothesis of inter.
mediate images, as the means by which it has been
attempted to explain perception.
Conception, considered as being in general the
dimple apprehension of any object, material or immnaterial, real or imaginary, implies in itself neither
iruth nor error.  When we say that there are ideas,
conceptions, true and false, we give to these expressions a sense which. refers to an act of judgment, and
not to pure conception.  Reid describes the princi.
pal characteristics of conception, and particularly its
analogy with the representation of an object by paint.
ing. But this analogy, true within certain limits, becomes a source of error if this comparison is trans.
formed into an absolute similitude.
Most philosophers have maintained that conception supposes, as well as perception and memory, two
objects, the one interior and immediate, the other
mediate and external; in a word, the image present
to the mind, and the real object which produces the
image. Reid here again attacks this opinion. On
this occasion he refutes, though in a very feeble way,
the theory of Plato concerning ideas.
Hie considers, as one consequence of the distine
tion between the internal and the external object, the
opinion according to which conception is the measure of the possibility of things. Reid makes the observation that we can conceive a proposition in two
II. —12




146          MODERN PHI'LOSOPHY.
ways: first, by comprehending the signification of
it; secondly, by judging that it is true.  In the first
case, it is false that conception is the measure of pos.
sibility, since we perfectly comprehend the meaning
of a contradictory and impossible proposition; in
the second case, the maxim in question is still false,
since it is a matter of experience that men pass opposite judgments respecting the possibility or impos.
sibility of things.
After simple conception comes the power of forming general conceptions. They may be considered
both in relation to the words which express them,
and in themselves.
And, first, how comes it that the greatest part of
words are general words, while we perceive only individual existences? It should be observed, first, that
there are but a very small number of individual ob.
jects perceived by the generality of men. The most
part of individual objects, being visible only to the
men who reside in the localities where these objects
exist, have proper names; common language ought,
therefore, to be in great part composed of general
names. In the second place, we do not know objects
in themselves, but only by their qualities or attributes,
which being common to a certain number of individ.
uals, can be expressed only by words general as them.
selves. Finally, this multitude of general terms re.
suits also from a want inherent in the human breast,
which would be overwhelmed by the innumerable
multitude of individual notions if it had not the
faculty of classing them in genera and species, by
means of terms which represent collections of things
that have common attributes.
If we consider general conceptions in themselves,
we see three processes presiding over tbh;r forma.
tion: the process of abstraction, by whicJ. subject




REID.                 147
is resolved into its attributes, to each of which a
special name is given; the process of generalization,
by which we observe the qualities common to several
subjects; the process of combination, by which we
unite several attributes into one single abstract whole,
which is represented by a particular denomination.
The observations of Reid on the faculty of judgment contains his theory of common sense. The
germe of this theory is found, as he himself has re.
marked, in Father Buffier's Treatise of First Truths,
and in several other writings.
Common sense is the sound natural sense imparted
to all men, in virtue of whioh they each and all spontaneously pass certain judgments, the evidence of
which strikes all minds.
Reason has two degrees: the one consists in judging of things evident in themselves, the other in deducing from those judgments consequences which
were not evident in themselves. The first is the
peculiar and the only function of common sense;
from which it appears that common sense coincides
in its whole extent with reason, and is only one of
its degrees.
This laid down, it is necessary to determine the
judgments which are the product of common sense.
These judgments should first be divided into two
classes, according as they refer to contingent truths
or to necessary truths.
The judgments of common sense relating to con.
tingent truths are, according to Reid, the following
principles:
1. Everything which is attested to me by con.
sciousness and the internal sense really exists.
2. The thoughts of which I am conscious are
thoughts of a being whom I call I.
3. The things which memory distinctly recalls to
me really happened.




148         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
4. I am certain of my personal identity from the
remotest period to which my memory can reach.
5. Objects which I perceive by the aid of my
senses really exist, and are as I perceive them.
6. I exert some degree of power upon my actions
and determinations.
7. The natural faculties by which I distinguish
truth from error are not delusive.
8. My fellow-men are living and intelligent crea.
tures like myself.
9. Certain expressions of countenance, certain
sounds of the voice, and certain gestures, indicate
certain thoughts and cer4ain dispositions of mind.
10. We have naturally some regard fobr the testi.
mony of men in matters of fact, and even for human
authority in matters of opinion.
11. Many events which depend upon the free.will
of our fellow-men may nevertheless be foreseen with
more or less probability.
12. In the order of nature, that which is to take
place will probably resemble that which has taken
place in similar circumstances.
With respect to the judgments of common sense
which relate to necessary truths, Reid limits himself
to dividing them into classes, indicating some exam.
ples, to which he adds observations on such of these
principles as have been the subject of controversies.
These judgments of common sense are grammatical,
logical, mathematical, esthetical, moral, and metaphysical. Among the metaphysical principles he
distinguishes three which have been attacked by
Hume, namely, that sensible qualities have a subject
which we call body, and a subject which we call
spirit; that everything which begins to exist is produced by a cause; and that evident marks of design
and intelligence in the effect prove design and intel.




REID.                 149
ligence in'the cause. Hume had maintained that
these principles, if true, must have their foundation in
experience; and yet, nevertheless, experience teach.
es us nothing concerning their truth.  Reid-replied
that it is not necessary to put their basis where
Hume sought it; that it is found in the natural belief,
which he designates by the term common sense.
Reid then treats of the faculty of reasoning and
of its general characteristics.  In this connexion he
inquires whether morals is susceptible of demonstra.
tion; that is, whether the first principles of morals
can be deduced from principles logically anterior: a
question which he resolves in the negative. Moral
axioms are perceived intuitively, and are an immedi.
ate product of common sense.
Taste, which is an intellectual faculty, analogous
in certain respects to the physical sense by which wo
perceive savours, has three principal objects, novelty, grandeur, beauty. The reason of the pleasure
we experience from novelty is found in the very
constitution of man, who, by nature active, feels the
want of developing himself. Grandeur pleases because it is a manifestation of power, naturally pref.
erable to weakness. The sentiment of the beautiful
is composed of two elements, of an agreeable emotion, and of the belief that there exists a real perfec-'ion in the objects which produce the emotion.
Consciousness is the faculty that makes us aware
of the actual modifications and operations of our
own minds. Skeptics have assailed all other orders
of knowledge, but have never disputed the facts of
consciousness.  But it will not do to confound con.
sciousness with reflection. The first, which results,necessarily from the very nature of man, is common
to all; the second requires a capacity of intellectual
activity which is given but to a few, and thisis the




150          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
reason there are so many disputes concerning the
constitution and faculties of the human mind, al.
though we have immediate knowledge of them. It
is because it does not proceed upon consciousness
alone, but depends in a great part upon reflection.
As to moral perception, which is a faculty at once
intellectual and active, Reid refers the questions re.
lating to it to his observation on the second class of
human faculties.
II. Active Faculties.-These suppose the ideas of
active power. That we have in ourselves such a
power is proved by universal language, which implies the distinction of active and passive, and by the
practical life of all men.  This idea, it is true, is furnished neither by sensations nor by consciousness,
which testifies solely the existence of the operations,
and not the existence of the faculties. But, since
this idea is inherent in the human mind, we must
look for its source in a belief resulting from the con.
stitution of the human mind.
Although the will be that which we can conceive
most clearly under the notion of active power, we
ought nevertheless to distinguish the principles of
action into two classes, mechanical principles and
voluntary principles. The mechanical principles,
which suppose neither attention, nor deliberation, nor
will to act, are the instincts and habits.  Besides the
instincts which are manifested in the child, there are
some which survive infancy. Some are absolutely
necessary to our physical preservation, such as the
instinct which governs the act of swallowing. Oth.
ers refer to actions which must be so frequently repeated that they would absorb our whole attention if
they required any deliberation. Others, again, refer
to actions which must be produced so suddenly that
thought would not have time to intervene. We may




REID.                  151
attribute, at least partially, to instinct the natural
propensity of man for imitation. As to habits, they
suppose undoubtedly the action of the will, in the
sense that they consist in a facility of action acquired by repeated acts; but the proper power of habit,
taken in itself, has its root in a property of human
nature distinct from simple will.
The principles of voluntary actions are of two
sorts, for the will or power of self-determination is
influenced by two sorts of motives: irrational motives,
relating to the faculty of feeling, and rational motives, relating to the faculty of judging.  The first,
common to man and the brutes, are addressed to the
animal part of our nature; the second correspond to
the human element properly speaking.
The animal principles of action are resolved into
appetites, desires, and affections~ The appetites are
periodical, and accompanied by a disagreeable sensation peculiar to each.  The desires are not accom.
panied by a disagreeable sensation; nor are they
periodical, but constant. The affections are princi.
ples of action which imply a benevolent or malevolent disposition with respect to persons.  When the
desires and affections are carried to a certain degree
of vehemence, they take the name of passions.
The rational principles, or those relative to the
faculty of judging, are enlightened self-love and duty.
Enlightened self-love, taken as the sole regulative
principle of human conduct, is insufficient. The gen.
erality of men do not possess sufficient instruction to
be able to make a skilful application of it at all timeso
It does not elevate man to the perfection of which
humanity is susceptible; for disinterestedness and
generosity are the most elevated objects of our sym.
pathy and admiration. And, finally, it cannot by it.
self procure the greatest amount of happiness, since




]152         MODERN PHILOSOPE'Y.
men who consult only their own welfare, however
strictly their conduct may coincide in form with ouI
notions of perfect virtue, are deprived of the high in.
ternal satisfaction connected only with- the fulfilment
of duty.
The notion of duty, which is found naturally in
the minds of all men, testifies the existence of a [moral faculty, which Reid does not object to calling, with
Hutcheson], moral sense, which inspires us with prinm..
itive moral judgments, as the senses inspire us withthe primitive judgments we pass respecting bodies.
But there is this difference between speculative andC
moral judgments, that the latter are accompanied by
a sentiment of approbation or disapprobation, while.
the former are pure affirmations separate from any
emotion.
The moral sense, or conscience, has need, like all
human faculties, to be cultivated in order to develop
and perfect it.
Summarily, enlightened selff-interest is a rational~
principle, regulative of all the animal principles which
refer to utility, and ought itself to be regulated by
the rational principle of duty.  But can it ever hap'pen that these two principles should be really in opposition?  Faith in divine Providence should persuade us that we can never injure our own welfare
by taking duty for our guide.  Take away the be'.
lief in God, and these two constituent principles of
our actions' might come, and would' necessarily corne)
into a state of hostility; and this is a proof that mort
als is necessarily connected with religion.
But, whatever be the motives that excite it, the
will is free.  Wherever there is passivity, there is,
properly speaking, no cause: to affirm that man is
free is to affirm that he is really the cause of his own
actions. In developing the proofs of human fPeee.




dom, and in replying to the principal objections alk
leged against it, Reid employs the grounding ideas
found in anterior philosophies.  The enumeration
which he gives of first principles in morals, and the
considerations which he offers upon the conditions
of morality, on the character of the idea of justice,
which is natural and not artificial, and upon the nature of the obligation of contracts, present also a
class of ideas not pertaining to the Scottish philoso
phy in its fundamental peculiarities.
Observations.
1. in respect of method, the philosophy of Reid,
was a combination of the method of Descartes and
that of Bacon. Descartes set out with internal observation, but he soon abandoned it. Bacon, on his part,
had established that philosophy should- rest upon a
lkrge basis of observation  but he had particularly
applied his method to the knowledge of external
facts. Reid, uniting these two points of view, took,
as the basis of philosophy, the most complete observation possible of internal facts, or of the constitution of the human mind.
2. Whatever judgment be passed upon the general
principles of his philosophy, it must be allowed to
contain a multitude of views which evince remarkable sagacity.
3. That which specially characterizes his philosophy is his doctrine concerning ultimate conviction, or
the judgments of common sense. The Scottish
school has well perceived that the human mind im.
plies radically, and under many relations, an element
of belief independent of all demonstration, and that
every philosophy which rejects this element under~
mines the edifice it would construct.  But, while
most other. philosophies require speculative concept




1 54        MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tions where only the fact of belief is to be had, does
not the Scottish school take refuge too often in the
convenient asylum of belief, in order to excuse itself
from furnishing speculative grounds?
4. Many modern nletaphysicians, particularly in
Germany, abandoning themselves to a philosophical
intemperance, which misconceives the limits of the
human mind, have resembled a man who intoxicates
himself under the pretext that it is necessary to drink.
The Scottish school almost refuses to drink for fear
of intoxication.  Its tendency to error is that of an
excess of circumspection, and that of other schools
is that of an excess of boldness. But by its firm
and practical good sense it has served as a most important counterpoise to the license of speculation.




APPENDIX.
6KETCH OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
FROM REID TO THE PRESENT TIME.








APPENDIX.
ENGLISHI PHILOSOPHY IN THE CLOSE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
FROM the time of Reid to the end of the eighteenth
century, a considerable degree of philosophical activ.
ity prevailed in England and Scotland, and numer.
ous works were produced, though in general the re.
ligious and moral predominated over the purely spec.
ulative interest.  The philosophical writings of the
period for the most part belong, in respect to their
leading principles, to the school of Locke and Hartley, or to the Scottish school represented by Reid.
A brief notice will be given of some of the more
distinguished names, and of the position in which they
respectively stand in relation to anterior systems.
Opponents of Hume.
OSWALD.-BEATTIE. —PRIESTLEY.
THE skepticism which Hume had deduced from the
principles of Locke, assailing, as it did, not only the
pretensions of speculation, but the certainty of all
human knowledge, and especially the fundamental
truths of religion, the existence of God, Providence,
a future life, miracles, etc., called out many adver.
saries, who in various ways sought to defend the
truths of religion against the conclusions of Hume.
JAMES OSWALD, a clergyman of the Established
Church of Scotland, published in 1766-1772 an Ap.
II.



158         MODERN PHILOSOPH[Y.
peal to Common Sense in Behayf of Religion, in which
he made the Common Sense of mankind, or the uni.
versal consent of humanity, the first principle and
supreme criterion of all philosophical truth.
JAMES BEATTIE (born in 1735, died in 1803), professor of Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh, and afterward at Aberdeen, produced in 1770 his Essay on
the Nature and Immutability of Truth. He adopted
the same general system as Reid, recognising certain
principles of knowledge as not derived from experi.
ence in the meaning of Locke and Hume, but referable to Common Sense: he used these terms, however, in a very vague and exceptionable way. He
defended the truths attacked by skepticism with great
zeal, but with far less ability than Reid. He pub.
lished also various treatises on iEsthetics and Mor.
als, in which last he maintained the system of the
moral sense. As a writer, he is more remarkable
for elegance and good taste than for philosophical
genius.
JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, who was born in 1733 and
died in 1804, is more celebrated at the present day
for his contributions to physical science than for his
philosophical writings. He attacked, however, both
Hume and his adversaries. Priestley was a materialist, and an ardent disciple of Hartley, whose theory
of association he adopted and revived, as explaining
all the phenomena of the human mind. Accordingly, while he attempted to refute the objections of
Hume against the truths of natural and revealed
religion, he at the same time combated the doctrines
of Reid, Beattie, and Oswald concerning Common
Sense, or instinctive principles of belief not resolva.
ble into sensation. These principles he ridiculed as
occult qualities, which should be exploded from philosophy. With Hartley, he likewise denied the free



PALEY.                 159
dom of the will, and maintained the necessity of all
human volitions.
Ethical Systems.
FERGUSON.
NEARLY at the same time with the first publication
of Reid appeared the "Institutes of Moral Philoso.
phy" by Adam Ferguson.  Ferguson was born in
1724, was professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, which place he resigned in
1783 in favour of Dugald Stewart.  His " Treatise
on Moral and Political Science" was published in
1793. He died in 1816. He maintained the doctrine of the moral sense, and made virtue to consist
in a continuous effort, by which the perfection of the
soul is developed.
PALEY.
WILLIAM PALEY (born in 1743 and died in 1805)
published his celebrated work on Moral Philosophy
in 1785. He agrees with Hume in resolving the essence of virtue into utility, yet he differs from him,
as well as from the other advocates of disinterested
morality, by denying the existence of conscience, of
any moral faculty, considered either as a moral sense,
or as a modification of reason.  Paley was a stren.
uous supporter of the selfish system, though not in its
grossest form. The general consequences of actions
is the sole criterion of their moral quality. Virtue
is defined by him to be " the doing good to mankind,
in obedience to the will of God, for tLe sake of everlasting happiness." Mackintosh makes the obser.
vation that this is not so much a definition as a proposition. Taken, however, as a definition, it involves
the gravest consequences: among others, that an act




160          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
even of obedience to the will of God (which, unless
his definition involve a contradiction, must be taken
only as the rule of action) is destitute of the charac.
ter of virtue if a regard to our own happiness was
not the motive. Conformably with his principles, he
makes no distinction between Prudence and Virtue,
except that the former relates to our regard to what
we shall gain or lose in this world, the latter to what
we shall gain or lose in the world to come; that is
to say; he makes no essential distinction between
them.
DARWIN.
ERAsMUs DARWTN was born in 1732 and died in
1802. Besides several poetical works, he wrote nu.
merous treatises on different subjects of physical and
physiological science. His philosophical views are
particularly developed in his Zoonomia, or Laws of
Organic Life, published in 1793-1796. He belonged in general to the school of Hartley and Priestley,
though he developed his views with much originality.
He taught that all animated nature originates in sin.
gle filaments, endowed with irritability, which is the
cause of vital motion and organization.  He carri.
ed his materialism to such an exaggerated extreme
as to maintain that " ideas are material things:" a
position which he does not even attempt to prove,
but reasons upon throughout his work as an established fact. It is worthy of notice, that the English
physiological materialists of this period carried their
views on this subject to a much greater length, and
expressed them much more decidedly, than the French
followers of Locke; for, while the latter held merely in a general way that thought is the result of ma.
terial organization, and that "every idea must," in
the language of Diderot, "necessarily resolve itself




BENTHAM.                 161
ultimately into a sensible representation or picture,"
several of the former advanced the special hypothesis that the immediate objects of thought are either
particles of the medullary substance of the brain, or
vibrations of these particles. The doctrine of the
materiality of ideas cannot be said to be original with
Darwin: it appeared in the seventeenth century in
the writings of Sir Kenelm Digby, and also of Dr.
Robert Hooke, celebrated for his attempts to deprive
Newton of the honour of his discoveries with respect
to the law of gravitation. One of the early works
of Dr. Thomas Brown was devoted to the needless
labour of refuting Darwin's theory.
BENTHAII.
AMONG the modern advocates of the selfish sys.
tem of morals, no one has attracted a greater share
of public attention than Jeremy Bentham. This celebrated jurist was born in 1747; was educated at
Oxford; was called to the bar, but soon abandoned
the profession, and led a retired and singular mode
of life in the heart of London, devoting himself to the
composition of numnerous works on jurisprudence,
government, and various branches of political and
moral science. He died in 1832. The eccentricity of his character and habits; the peculiarities of
his style; the decided and exclusive cast of his prin.
ciples; the hardihood with which he carried them out
to their consequences; the uncompromising hostility with which he assailed all opinions differing from
his own; and the seemingly practical character of
his system: these circumstances have conspired to
make him the head of an ardent school of disciples,
who have continued to the present time to propagate
the doctrines of their master with a zeal almost bordering upon fanaticism.  As a jurist, he has certain.
1. —13




162         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ly rendered important service to humanity, and shed
much original light upon many principles of legisla
tion, in spite of the errors into which the unqualified
and exclusive character of his principles led him
As a moralist, his system is substantially that of
Hobbes, his originality consisting only in the bold
ness of his positions, and in the peculiar form in which
he has clothed them. Hobbes was a metaphysician,
Bentham a jurist: Hobbes sought to ground his principles in psychological analysis; Bentham assumed
them without proof as obvious and undeniable facts.
As a jurist, Bentham was led to regard human actions in the single point of their influence upon society; for, though legislation does not, and ought not
to, disregard the moral quality of actions, yet its pe.
culiar and immediate object is the prevention of ac.
tions injurious to society. Thus Bentham, setting
out as a jurist, becomes a moralist only by extending
the maxims of legislative enactment to all human ac.
tions, and making their private and social utility the
sole test of their morality. His moral system is
mainly found in his Principles of Morals and Legis.
lation, published in 1789, though it had been printed
nine years before.
The principles of his system are briefly as follows:
The desire of pleasure and the fear of pain are the
only possible motives which can influence the human
will.
Consequently, pleasure is the only object of pur.
suit, the sole end of human existence.
The utility of actions is their property of increas.
ing the sum of happiness, or lessening the amount of
suffering, in individuals or in the community.
The lawfulness, justice, goodness, or morality of
actions means only their utility in the sense defined:




BENTHAM.                163
if these terms are not used in this sense, they are
used without meaning.
The principle of utility, or the greatest happiness
principle, is that which determines the quality of actions by their twofold property of producing pleasure
or pain in the individual or the community. This
is the only test of the morality of actions, the sole
ground of approbation or disapprobation, the sole
rule for morals as well as legislation.
The supreme interest of every individual is the attainment of the greatest happiness of which he is ca.
pable; the supreme interest of society is the attainment of the greatest happiness possible to all the in.
dividuals of which it is composed.
All systems of ethics and of legislation which pro.
ceed upon any other principle than utility are false:
all false systems may be reduced to two classes:
1. Systems of asceticism, which adopt, indeed, the
right criterion by judging of the quality of actions
from their consequences, but apply it falsely and in
contradiction to human nature by making good actions to be such as produce pain, and bad actions such
as produce pleasure; 2. Systems of sympathy and
antipathy, which judge of actions as good or bad in.
dependently of their consequences.
The principle of utility.being thus assumed as ab..&olute, it follows that every kind of pleasure-even
that felt by the perpetrator of the most atrocious
crime-is good in itself; the man is not to be con.
demned for the pleasure he took in the act, but only
because its ulterior consequences will produce an
overbalance of pain: this is the only reason why it
is called wrong or criminal.
It is in the practical application of these principles,
and especially in his character of jurist, that the originality of Bentham is displayed. Having classified
the various kinds of pleasure and pain, he seeks to




164          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
determine their comparative value, and thus to fix a
graduated scale for the moral valuation of human
actions. To make this calculation, it is necessary to
have the elements to be compared. These are referred to four classes: 1. All the pleasures and
pains of which human nature is susceptible, compared
in the sixfold relation of intensity, duration, certainty
or uncertainty, propinquity or remoteness, fecundity,
and purity; 2. Primary circumstances, tending to
increase or lessen the value of those pleasures, as
health, strength, etc.; 3. Secondary circumstances,
affecting the degree of sensibility, and indirectly
modifying the value of the pleasures and pains of individuals; 4. The multiplied consequences which fol.
low a pleasurable or painful action, beginning with
the individual, and extending through the various
domestic and social relations to the community at
large.
Applying these elements of calculation, all practi.
cal problems in morals are solved, and the moral value of every possible act is determined. If an action
is useful, it is good; if injurious, bad; and in both
cases in the degree of its utili'y or injuriousness:
and to decide in every particular case, we must cal.
culate all its possible effects to see which preponder.
ates, the pleasurable or the painful consequences.
To know which of two useful or of two injurious ac.
tions is the most so, the same rule applies. The
relative goodness or badness of a given number of
good or bad actions is determined in the same way.
But the main value of this method, in the view of
Bentham, is in its application to the grounds of le.
gislation. To inquire whether mankind have the
right to regard and punish certain actions as crimes,
is the same thing as to inquire whether doing so is
useful to society.  But the crime (the injurious ac.
tion) is an evil, and the penalty is an evil. The




BENTHAM.                165
question, therefore, is to be decided by a balance
struck between two evils: Will the penalty tend to
prevent the crime; and is the evil of the penalty less
than that of the consequences of the act? If so, we
may forbid and punish. That it is so in certain
cases is easily proved; therefore society has in cer.
tain cases the right to forbid and punish.
As pleasure and pain are the only motives that
can determine the will, they are the only sanctions
which can operate with binding or obligatory force.
There are four kinds of sanctions: physical, referring
to the natural consequences of actions; moral or popular, referring to the pleasures and pains resulting
from the opinions and feelings excited towards us by
our actions in the minds of our fellow-men; the religious, which result from the hope and fear of re.
wards and punishments in a future life; and, lastly,
the political sanction, including the penalties attached
to actions by law.
Of these sanctions civil society, or government,
can directly use only the last. It can prohibit cer.
tain actions, and punish them with certain pains; but
it cannot control the physical or moral consequen.
ces of actions. It should not, however, disregard
the other sanctions; on the contrary, it should ren.
der them as far as possible auxiliary to the influence
of the legal sanction.
Observations.
The whole system of Bentham rests upon the po.
sition that pleasure and pain are the sole motives of
human volition. Bentham assumes this principle as
an axiom that needs no proof, and he offers none,
except indirectly, in combating the systems that ad.
mit another motive.
The plausibility of many of his explanations of hu.
man conduct is entirely owing, however, to a con.




166           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
fusion which he has made of two principles perfectly
distinct: the principle of private utility, and the prin.
ciple of general utility. Bentham made this confu.
sion quite unconsciously; Hobbes was more clear.
sighted and more consistent: he saw the distinction,
and refused to make the substitution. To lay down,
first, our own personal pleasure, advantage, oy inter.
est, as the sole and absolute rule of action, and then
to lay down the pleasure, advantage, or interest of
society, as if it were the same thing, is to confound
two rules altogether distinct and different. Bentham
did not perceive the confusion, because he did not
perceive the distinction between the two rules. His
mode of arguing, in respect to the reasons which
lead us to regulate our conduct in accordance with
the general welfare of society, shows that he makes
a view to our personal advantage the motive even for
obeying the rule of general utility. This is consist.
ent with his system; for his fundamental principle
legitimately gives but one rule of action, regard to
our private interest; any other rule is inconsistent:
a regard to public utility can be a legitimate motive
only as a means to a private end; that is to say, is
not a motive at all. Yet, although his fundamental
principle gives but this one motive, and although
his own analysis resolves a regard for public utility
into a mere regard for private and personal advan.
tage as the ultimate and sole motive, he neverthe.
less, in other passages, reasons in a way which is
correct only upon the ground that a regard for general utility is a rule and motive of itself; and it is to
this inconsistency that his system owes much of its
plausibility, its seeming accordance with the facts of
human nature. A regard to our own interest is undoubtedly one of the motives of human volition: the
error of Bentharn, as of every selfish system, consists
in making it the sole motive.




MODERN PHILOSOPHY.           167
PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
SINCE the commencement of the present century,
England, Germany, and France have continued to
be, as they were in the preceding century, the prin.
cipal centres of philosophical activity. No original
or important systematic work has appeared, and but
few contributions to speculative science have been
made in any other country. Philosophy has been
cultivated in England, however, much less generally, and with much less interest, than in Germany and
France.
ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH
CENTURY.
STEWART.
DUGALD STEWART was born at Edinburgh in 1753,
and was educated in the University of that city,
though he afterward attended the lectures of Reid at
Glasgow. In 1785 he succeeded his father in the
mathematical professorship in the University of Edinburgh, which he subsequently exchanged for the
chair of Moral Philosophy, vacated by the resignation of Ferguson. He published the first volume of
his Philosophy of the Human Mind in 1798; the re.
mainder of his writings belong to the nineteenth century. He died in 1828.
Stewart was the disciple of Reid, whose general
system he adopted. A regular analysis of the leading principles contained in his writings is, therefore,
unnecessary in this place; and even the modifica.




168          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tions which he introduced into the system of his mas
ter are for the most part so cautiously suggested, and
so generally connected with its subordinate princi.
ples or with its particular applications, that a detail.
ed enumeration of them does not fall within the com.
pass of this sketch.  The general character of his
labours should, however, be noticed: they occupy a
distinct and important place in the history of modern
philosophy, on account of the important influence
they exerted in diffusing a taste for philosophical
studies, in spreading the principles of Reid, and in
opposing the progress of sensualism, particularly in
its relations to morals.
Stewart was superior to Reid in elegance of taste,
and in variety and extent of philosophical learning.
To this, in connexion with the critical cast of his
mind, and his modest and cautious disposition, it was
owing, more, perhaps, than to the want of original
power, that his works are mainly occupied with crit.
ical disquisitions attached to the principles of Reid,
and present so little attempt at systematic peculiari.
ties of his own. It is by no means true, however,
that he contributed nothing to philosophy but criti.
cal disquisitions and tasteful illustrations of the principles of his master. It has been said of him that
he took more pains to conceal his originality than
most men take to display their own. That he was
not deficient in talent for original observation and in
speculative ability, might be shown from various parts
of his writings; as, for instance, his remarks on casual associations; on dreaming; on causation; and
on the difference between man and the lower animals.
He adopted the method of Reid, and he followed
him in his controversy against the too narrow and
exclusive principles of Locke; but on both these important subjects he has shed much light, particu



STEWART.                169
larly upon the latter, by his critical ability, and by
his talent for illustration.
He accepted Reid's classification of the faculties
of the human mind; but he has enlarged and comrn.
pleted his system by a fuller and more perfect analysis of many important faculties. In the second
volume of his Elements of the Philosophy of the
Mind, by his discussions concerning the process of
reasoning and the principles of evidence, he has con.
tributed very valuable materials to logic, of the importance of which, as comprehending far more than
the artificial systems of deduction, he had a very
strong impression.
Among the instances in which he has departed
from the views of Reid, may be mentioned his doc.
trines concerning association of ideas and habit.
Reid denied that the association of ideas has its
ground in an ultimate principle or fact of our mental
constitution, and resolved it into habit, which he regarded as an original principle. Stewart, on the
other hand, resolves habit into association. But one
of the most important modifications which Stewart
has effected in the philosophy of Reid, consists in sub.
stituting the terms Fundamental Laws of Human
Thought or Belief in place of Reid's principles of
Common Sense. This change is made in his characteristic modest and cautious way. He vindicates
Reid from the charge of holding this term in the
vague and unphilosophical sense of Beattie, but none
the less clearly does he see and expose the inconveniences and objectionable consequences of retaining
such a term at all, as referring to the absolute and
necessary convictions of pure reason.
In morals, Stewart has filled up many chasms left
in Reid's works by his more systematic and com.
plete analysis of the various practical principles of
II;l.-4




170          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
human nature. Equally with Reid, he was the earnest opponent of every form of the selfish system;
with still more clearness than his master, though in
his usual guarded and cautious tone, he distinguishes
his system from the instinctive or sentimental sys.
tems. He has contributed much to set in a strong
light the essential and immutable difference of right
and wrong, and the absolute authority of conscience
as a conviction of obligation, grounded necessarily
and immediately upon the perception of right and
wrong. In regard to the term moral sense, which
the influence of Hutcheson had brought into general
use, and which Reid adopted, though Stewart does
not repudiate it, yet he clearly shows, in his remarks
on the objections to the objective reality and immu.
tability of moral distinctions which may be drawn
from the term, that he does not hold to the moral
sense as a specialfaculty of perceiving moral ideas.
"' The words cause and efect, duration, identity, and
many others, express simple ideas, as well as the
words right and wrong; and yet it would surely be
absurd to ascribe each of them to a particular power
of perception." From this it clearly appears that
he takes the moral sense simply as a form of the
reason, and that he regards the latter as the faculty
in which our moral conceptions originate. In this
view he expressly vindicates the use of the word by
Cudworth and Price; with whose doctrines on this
subject, as well as with that of Kant, his own is iden.
tical. With respect to the last named philosopher,
it may be remarked, that Stewart indulged himself
in a prejudice which a better acquaintance with his
principles would have materially modified. The
strange and uncouth terminology of the German was
likely to be peculiarly repulsive to a taste like Stew.
art's; yet, in spite of their differences in this respect,




BROWN.                 171
and in spite of still more important differences in
doctrine, the coincidence between their opinions, and
the substance of their reasoning on many material
points, is remarkable enough to have been the subject
of frequent observation.
BROWN.
THOMAS BROWN was born in 1777, and educated at
the University of Edinburgh. At the age of twenty
he wrote a refutation of Darwin's Zoonomia, which
at once distinguished him as a person of superior ability. In 1810 he succeeded Stewart as professor of
Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh.  He was the author
of several poetical works, the principal of which is
the Paradise of Coquettes, and displays considerable
poetical talent.  Hle also published an Inquiry into
the Relation of Cause and Effect.  His lectures on
the Philosophy of the Human Mind were published
after his death. lie was cut off by consumption in
1820.
Brown classes the subjects which fall within the
scope of the Philosophy of the Human Mind under
four general divisions: the Physiology of the Mind;
Ethics, Politics, and Natural Theology. He makes
the first the principal object of his inquiries. The
following analysis exhibits the leading principles and
main doctrines of his system:
Psychology is with him a physiology or physical
study of the mind, considered as a substance suscep.
tible of various states of feeling. These various
states of feeling are the phenomena of the mind,
and are only the one mind itself existing in different
modifications.
It is the object of philosophy to observe and gen.
eralize these phenomena until we arrive at general




172          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
laws, which laws are nothing but the most gentcif
expression of the circumstances in which the phe'.
nomena are felt to agree.
The principles of the investigation of the phe.
nomena of the mind are precisely the same as in the
investigation of matter or external nature, the only
difference being in the circumstance that in the phys.
ics of matter the object of inquiry and the inquiring
subject are different, while in the physics of the mind
they are the same.
This leads to a discussion of the principles of
physical inquiry in general, as applicable to mind no
less than to matter.
All inquiry with respect to the various substances
in nature must regard them either as they exist in
space or as they exist in time: we inquire either into
their composition or into their changes.  A substance,
considered as it exists in space, is the mere name
which we give to bodies, similar or dissimilar, in ap.
parent continuity; as it exists in time, it is that which
is the subject or the antecedent of changes, and we
inquire into its susceptibilities and into its powers.
But here we note the intervention of a principle
different from the mere present perception of particular phenomena in succession. Our senses, our ex.
perience, show us only what is, not what has been
nor what will be. Yet the observation of any changes, any phenomena in succession, is accompanied
with the irresistible belief that in the same circumstances the like changes have invariably taken place
and will invariably take place, or, in other words,
that the same antecedents will invariably be followed by the same consequents.
As this belief cannot be derived from experience,
so neither can it be resolved into custom, as has been
attempted by Ilume.  It is an instinctive belief, a




BROWN.                 173
feeling which on certain occasions arises in virtue of
the original constitution of the mind, just as our simple sensations or emotions arise on their proper occasions.
As to the nature of the relation to which this belief attaches, it is merely one of invariable antecedence and consequence. The term Power signifies
nothing more than the antecedence of phenomena to
other phenomena in an invariable order; Cause signifies nothing but the invariable antecedent; and Effect
nothing but the invariable consequent in a given se.
quence of phenomena. If we use these words to
signify anything more, we use them without mean.
ing. There is no such thing as power or cause oth.
er than as a mere invariable antecedent; and no
such thing as effect other than as a mere invariable
consequent. The antecedent and the cause are not
distinct, though inseparable; they are identical: so
likewise of the consequent and the effect. In any
invariable sequence of phenomena, as the explosion
of powder following the contact of fire; or the mo.
tion of the arm following a particular state of the
mind; or the creation of the world following the will
of God: if we suppose there is any bond of connexion between the phenomena; anything except the
mere fact of the succession itself; any ground of tho
succession which lies under it in the substances of the
phenomena; any power, cause, or efficacy which de.
termines the invariable antecedence and consequence,
and makes it a necessary connexion, we delude ourselves with mere words without significance.
The philosophy of matter and the philosophy of
mind agree in this respect, that our knowledge of
both is confined to the mere phenomena. They
agree also in the two species of inquiry they admit:
the phenomena of mind, like those of matter, may be




174          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
considered as complex, and susceptible of analysis, or
they may be considered as successive in a certain order, and bearing, therefore, the reciprocal relations
of cause and effect. The phenomena of the mind
are, however, only relatively complex, and analysis is
only the virtual decomposition of a seeming complexity. Analysis, in the science of the mind, is
founded wholly upon the feeling of relation which
one state of mind seems to us to bear to other states
of mind as comprehensive of them. It is chiefly, if
not wholly, as an analytical science that philosophy
can be a science of progressive discovery.-So much
for the nature, objects, and method of the physiology
of the mind.
Before proceeding to the classification and par.
ticular analysis of the various states of the mind, it
is necessary to consider two general facts always implied in the variety of phenomena: these facts are
comprehended in the terms consciousness and personal identity.
Consciousness is neither any special separate faculty of the mind, having the office of rendering us
aware of the various feelings of the mind, as Doctor
Reid makes it to be, nor, on the other hand, is it a
fact or state of the mind distinct from the feelings
themselves of which we are aware, and the condition
of our being aware of them: it is merely a general
term expressive of the collective whole of our vari.
ous states of mind. There are not sensations,
thoughts, passions, AND also consciousness, any more
than there is a quadruped apart from the particular
animals included under the term. To be conscious
of particular feelings, be they sensations, thoughts,
or volitions, is nothing but to feel in a particular way,
is nothing but to have the sensation, thought, or vo.




BROWN.                  175
lition. When we use the term as if it implied more
than this-as if the sensation, etc., were one thing,
and the consciousness of it another thing-we express
nothing but the remembrance of former feelings, and
a feeling of the relation of our different feelings to a
permanent subject.
This notion of the mind as the permanent subject
of the all various feelings that come and go within
us, is expressed in the words self, or personal identity. Consciousness and memory are the conditions
of the notion and belief of self, or personal identity.
In memory it is not merely a past feeling that arises
to us, but a feeling recognised to have been formerly
felt by us as the same beings who now remember it.
Brown makes no distinction between the notion of
self, merely as the subject of a feeling distinct from
the feeling, and the notion of identity, as implying the
unchanged sameness of the subject amid the changing
of its feelings; and hence makes memory the condi.
tion of the notion, denying the view of Stewart that
every exercise of consciousness, without reference
to the past, implies the notion of self.
Brown agrees with Stewart in referring the origin
of the idea and belief of self and personal identity
to a law of thought, or intuitive principle grounded
in the constitution of the mind. He gives for characteristics of an intuitive principle, that the concep.
tion or belief which it expresses is universal, immediate, and irresistible; and vindicates the validity of
such principles as the ground of belief:
After these general views, the next thing is the
more particular analysis and classification of the various phenomena of the mind. Dissatisfied with all
previous classifications, and with the grounds upon
which they have proceeded, Brown produce one sen



176            MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tirely new, both in its nomenclature and in the distinct
tions which are taken as the basis of the arrangement. All the phenomena of the mind are here ar.
ranged under two divisions, External Affections of
the Mind, or those which arise immediately in consequence of external things. and Internal Affections,
which arise in consequence of previous affections of
the mind itself.
The following table exhibits the classification of
the phenomena under this primary division:
DIVISION  I.                 CLASS IV.
EXTERNAL  AFFECTIONS OF        Sensations of Touch.
THE MIND.
CLASS V.
ORDER I.                Sensations of Sight.
THE LESS DEFINITE EXTERNAL AFFECTIONS.
CLASS I.                DIVISION  II.
Appetites; as Hunger, etc   THE INTERNAL AFFECTIDNI
OF THE MIND.
CLASS HI.
Muscular Pains.              ORDER I.
CLASS III.          INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE
MIND.
Muscular Pleasures.
CLASS I.
ORDER II.               Simple Suggestione.
THE MORE DEFINITE EXTER- Suggestions of Resemblance,
NAL AFFECTIONS.           Contrast, Contiguity.
CLASS I.                   CLASS II.
Sensations of Smell.   Relative Suggestions, or Feelings of Relation.
CLASS II.
Sensations of Taste.           SPECIES I.
Relations of Coexistence, Position, Resemblance, Degree,
Proportion, Comprehensive
Sensations of Hearing.   ness,




BROWN.                   177
SPECIES II.           Feelings distinctive of Virtue
and Vice:
Relations of Succession.      and  Hate;
Sympathy;
ORDER II.             Pride and Humility.
EMOTIONS; SUCH  AS LOVE,
CLASS II.
ETC.
Retrospective Emotions.
CLASS I.
SPECIES I.
Immediate Emotions-     Retrospective Emotions, having
SPECIES 1.           reference to others:
Immediate Emotions involving   Anger;
no Moral Feeling:
Cheerfulness & Melancholy;        SPECIES II.
Wonder;                   Retrospective Emotions, having
Languor;                    reference to ourselves:
Beauty and its Opposite; 
Sublimity;                  Simple Regret and Gladness;
The Ludicrous.              Remorse and its Opposite.
SPECIES II.                CLASS III.
Immediate emotions involving Prospective Emotions, compresome Moral Feeling;         hending our Desires & Fears.
In treating of the sensations which are ascribed to
touch, Brown denies the common distinction of the
qualities of matter into primary and secondary, con.
tending that both alike express merely states of the
sentient mind, which by the constitution of our nature we are irresistibly led to attribute to external
causes. He therefore denies that there is any spe
cial faculty called Perception distinct from the sensa.
tion. There is the state of mind consequent upon
the presence of an object to the sense of touch, and
this state of mind, this sensation, or feeling of resist.
ance, is all there is in the process of perception, ex.
cept the intuitive belief in an external cause suggested by the associating principle.
Reid held the intuitive knowledge both of mind
and of matter, and regarded the reality of their an



178          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tithesis, whether it could be explained or not, as a
fundamental unquestionable truth.
Brown held consciousness in perception to be a
mere modification (state of feeling) of the percipient
subject; the idea or representative object in percep.
tion to have no existence out of consciousness; and
the idea and perception to be only different relations
of a state of mind really the same.
Attention is not a simple mental state, but a combination of feelings. It is not a special faculty, nor
the result of a special faculty, but is the result of the
laws of perception, by whieh the increased vividness
of one sensation produces a corresponding faintness
in other coexisting sensations. The cause of this in.
creased vividness is the desire of knowing connecting
itself particularly with some one among our sensations, according to the general law by which our
emotions give intensity to every perception with
which they harmonize.
In treating of the Internal Affections of the Mind,
Brown classes them all, as may be seen in the foregoing table, under two orders, Intellectual States
and Emotions. These Internal Affections of the
Mind are all resolved into Suggestion, or that con.
stitutional principle of the mind by which the various mental states stand to each other in the relation
of antecedence and consequence in a certain order.
Brown repudiates the term Association of Ideas, be.
cause he conceives it to limit the facts included under it to ideas, whereas it should include emotions,
sentiments, judgments, all the feelings of the mind.
He considers, moreover, the natural constitution of
the mind to be such, that not only one affection or
state of it succeeds to another, and that the successions




BROWN.                  179
occur in a certain order, but also that the laws which
regulate the recurrence are not laws of association in
the strict sense of the term, as expressive of some
former connecting process, but merely laws of suggestion, as expressive simply of the natural tendency
of the mind, in the very moment when it- is affected
in a certain manner, to exist immediately afterward
in a certain different state. This distinction Brown
considers of great importance; and he adopts the
term Suggestion not only as the simpler and more
accurate expression for all the spontaneous successions of the mental states, but because otherwise we
could explain but a part of the phenomena of the
mind.
With this general view of suggestion, Brown pro.
ceeds to analyze all the Internal Affections of the
Mind, which have commonly been ascribed to a va.
riety of distinct powers or faculties, into Suggestion
either Simple or Relative.
SiMPLE SUGGESTION.-This comprehends all our
conceptions or feelings connected with the past, and
is that tendency by which the perception or conception of one object excites of itself, without any known
cause external to the mind, the conception of some
other object.
The laws of Simple Suggestion are Primary and
Secondary. Of the Primary Laws Brown admits
three: Resemblance, Contrast, and Nearness in Time
or Place; though he is at the same time inclined to
think they might all be resolved into one, which he
terms a " fine species of proximity." The Second.
ary Laws are the most general circumstances which
in various ways modify the primary ltws




180          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
Importance is to be attached to the fact that the
states of the mind which succeed each other, accord.
ing to the laws of suggestion, do not merely follow
each other, the suggesting state departing and giving
way to the suggested state, but that it may remain,
coexist, and blend with the other in a complex feel.
ing.
Proceeding on these views, Brown attempts to resolve into forms of simple suggestion various phe.
nomcna of the mind which have been referred to dis.
tinct and special faculties.
1. Conception.-This has been defined the faculty
by which we form a notion of an absent object of
perception, or of some previous feeling of the mind.
But there is no special faculty with this office. It is
merely a particular determination of the general sus.
ceptibility of suggestion. When the sound of a
friend's name is followed by the conception of his
person, there are not two principles operating in the
production of this mental state-a faculty of asso.
ciation and a faculty of conception —but only one,
the principle of suggestion. We may call the state
of mind a conception, in order to mark a more immediate reference to the object conceived; and we may
call it a suggestion, with more immediate reference
to the conceiving mind; but the latter is the princi.
pie of the phenomenon, and the only principle. The
phenomenon is not to be referred to any special fac.
ulty of conception.
2. Memory.-Remembrances are only conceptions
with which the notion of past time is connected, and
may in like manner be analyzed, the first element
of them into suggestion, as above, and the second
element into a suggestion or feeling of relation. The
notion of past time added to conceptions does not




BROWN.                 181
require any new faculty or power of the mind dis.
tinct from the general principle of suggestion.-Rec.
ollection is only remembrance modified by desire.
3. Imagination.-This is no distinct faculty, but
only the combination of conceptions or images ac.
cording to the laws of suggestion. This combination may be spontaneous without the presence of de.
sire, or it may be modified by desire in the way de.
scribed in speaking of attention. When this latter
is the case, it explains all that is implied in the voluntary shaping or creative imagination. Of the dis.
tinction between Fancy and Imagination Brown
seems to have had no notion,
4. Habit.-This is not an original principle of the
mind. The term expresses a tendency to the repetition of certain actions, and greater facility in per.
forming them. This is resolvable into the general
principle of suggestion, by which feelings tend to in.
duce other feelings that have been before connected
with them.
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. —This comprehends all
those feelings arising directly from previous feelings
which suggest them, and to which they stand in
some felt relation. These feelings of relation may
all be classed under two heads: relations of coexist
ence, and relations of succession.
Relations of Coexistence. —To this class-which
includes relations of real coexistence, as in matter,
or of seeming coexistence, as in the complex phe.
nomena of the mind-belong the relations of Position, Resemblance or Difference, Proportion, Degree, and Comprehension. These terms sufficiently
explain the relations to which they apply. The per.
reption or conception of objects, according as they
tic.-Q.




182          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
stand in these relations, suggests the relations them
selves.
The suggestions of resemblance and difference ex.
plain the formation of classes, the process of gener.
alization, and explode all the controversy concerning
universals between the Nominalists and Realists.
The process of generalization and the formation of
general terms is the following: 1. A perception of
two or more objects; 2. A feeling of their resem.
blance; 3. The expression of this feeling of their
relation by a word comprehending all the objects between which this relation exists. The general term
expresses a state of mind entirely distinct from the
primary perception of the individual objects.
This process of the mind may be misconceived
and vitiated in two ways: by adding to it, or by
omitting. To say that between the perception of two
or more individual objects, comprehended by a gen.
eral term and the feeling of their relation of resemblance, there intervenes some distinct substance, or
some universal form distinct from the conceiving
mind and from the individual objects, and that this
produces the general notion to which the general
term applies, is to err in the first way: it is the error of the Realists. To suppose that there is no intervening notion of general resemblance, no relative
suggestion between the particulars and the formation
of the general term, is to err in the second way: it
is the error of the Nominalists.
The opinion of Brown as to the true process of
generalization and the meaning of general terms, is
regarded by him as essentially the same as that of
Reid, and others called Conceptualists; whose incau.
tious and incongruous language, and erroneous anal.
ysis of the general feeling, or feeling of resemblance,




BROWN.                   183
on which the whole process turns, have, however,
served, in his opinion, to perplex the subject.
The process of Reasoning is likewise resolved into
Relative Suggestion. Of the elements of reasoning,
the general terms have been already explained. Prop.
ositions are only the verbal enunciation of the rela.
tion of two terms.  All the relations may be expressed in propositions: there may be propositions
of position, of resemblance, of proportion, of order,
of degree, and of comprehension; to which last, indeed, all the others may be reduced. Every proposition expresses an analysis.
Reasoning, which consists of a number of propositions in a certain order, is only pursuing the anal.
ysis still farther, every step in the progress being
only the analytic statement of what was contained
in a prior comprehensive statement. However numerous the steps in the series, the last proposition is
truly contained in the first. A new truth is not so
much added as evolved.
Relations of Succession.-These include all our
feelings which stand related to each other in the order
of time. They may be casually prior and posterior
when they occur as parts of different trains, or they
may be invariably antecedent and consequent in a
single train. The relations of cause and effect are
resolved into suggestions of the latter sort.
There is no such special faculty as Reason.
There is no ground for the distinction between Rea.
son and Judgment. Reasoning is nothing more than
a series of relative suggestions or feelings of relation, which, when expressed in words, form a series
of propositions. To the susceptibility of feeling




184          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
these relations, both the faculty called reason and the
faculty called judgment may be alike reduced; the
latter denoting the feeling of the relations of the
terms of one proposition, the former of the series of
propositions.
The process of Abstraction implies no special fac.
ulty. All the phenomena of the mind included in
this term may be resolved either into the relative
suggestion of resemblance or into simple suggestion,
in which the partial representation of a concrete or
complex whole may be suggested to the omission of
the rest.
The Second Order of Internal Affections embraces
the EMOTIONS, which Brown has classified as immediate, retrospective, and prospective. He considers
emotions to be distinguished from the intellectual
states of the mind by a certain peculiar vividness of
feeling, none the less readily recognised because it is
undefinable. It is unnecessary to notice all the phe.
nomena which Brown has comprehended in this or.
der. Many of them belong properly and exclusively
to this order of phenomena, and are accurately and
beautifully analyzed. We shall confine our exposi.
tion to some special topics.
The term Beauty denotes an emotion in distinction
from sensation. It is not the direct or immediate
result of an affection of any organ of sense; it is a
feeling distinct from. though connected with, the sen.
sible perception of the object termed beautiful, just
as hope, fear, etc., are distinct from the affections of
the sensibility which precede and occasion them.
The term beauty denotes likewise exclusively an
emotion, in opposition to the doctrine which makes
beauty an object for any intellectual state of the
mind, an object of judgment or reason,




~BROWN.                 185
Beauty is a mere general term, comprehensive of
certain peculiar agreeable affections of the mind felt
in reference to various objects.  It is not anything
existing independently of particular objects, nor is
it any simple quality of those objects. It no more
exists in objects, than species or genera exist in individuals.  It is as absurd to inquire what constitutes
the beautiful, as it is to inquire what constitutes the
pleasing. Hence all theories which have attempted
to decide what constitutes the beautiful, are as absurd
as those which should attempt to resolve the pleasing
exclusively into some particular sight, or taste, or
smell. The term beautiful is wholly relative to our
own minds.  The objects which we call beautiful are
such merely because the perception of them is followed by certain agreeable feelings.  Yet the beautiful is
not any quality inherent in the objects; least of all is it
any common quality existing alike in all the different
sorts and individuals of beautiful objects, and which is
the ground of our being thus affected. Some philoso.
phers have regarded beauty as something existing
independently of particular objects, and manifested
by them; others as a simple quality common to all
objects called beautiful.  These incorrect views have
resulted from the peculiar vividness of the feeling,
and from the natural tendency of the mind to attach
its own feelings to the objects that occasion them.
The question why the feeling of beauty is connect.
ed with certain objects, Brown resolves by supposing an original tendency of the mind to be so affected by some objects, while as to another and larger
class of objects it is the result of association.-The
Sublime differs from the Becautiful only in degree.
In his Ethical system Brown resolves the essence
of virtue into a certain vivid feeling or emotion of
ji.-5 5




l 86         MODERN PHILOSOPHiY.
approveableness.  Certain actions, or, rather, accord.
ing to a distinction upon which he much insists, certain agents in certain circumstances excite in us immediately and irresistibly, from the constitution of
our minds, the emotions of moral approbation. To
the actions which awaken this emotion we give the
generic name virtue, which denotes neither anything
in itself, nor any simple quality of actions, but is a
mere collective term to denote those actioIs which
we find by experience do awaken this emlotion.  The
fact that certain actions awaken the eniotion constitutes their approveableness, and the vl iue of the actions. This approveableness is but a relation of the
action to the emotion.  Virtue, obligation, merit, all
mean essentially the same thing, differing only in respect to time. The irresistible feeling of approbation constitutes to us who consider the action, the
virtue of the action itself, the obligation to perform
it, and the merit of the performance.  "Virtue,"
says Brown, "being a term  expressive only of the
relation of certain actions, as contemplated, to cer.
tain emotions in the minds of those who contemplate
them, cannot, it is evident, have any universality be.
yond that of the minds in which these emotions
arise. We speak always, therefore, relatively to the
constitution of our minds, not to what we might have
been constituted to admire...... and the supposed
immutability, therefore [of moral distinctions], has
regard only to the existing constitution of things
under the Divine Being who has formed our social
nature,"
Observations.
The absorbing of all thought, all the faculties of
the mind into consciousness, and consciousness itself
into feeling, is the fundamental peculiarity of Brown's




BROWN.                 187
philosophy.  This, with the principle of suggestion
considered as a constitutional tendency or law of the
mind regulating the combination and succession of
feelings, involves his whole system: a system widely
at variance, and in its most important points in absolute contradiction, with that of Reid and Stewart.
With a strong natural bias of mind towards extreme
simplification, his fundamental theory became with
him an hypothesis to be applied to rather than a result obtained by an impartial, accurate, and complete
observation of the phenomena of the mind. Hence,
while we have many ingenious, beautiful, and often
accurate analyses, we have also many, especially in
regard to the fundamental questions of philosophy,
in which the most important facts are overlooked, or
distorted, or mutilated.
Hence he is led not only to deny the doctrine of
Reid, that consciousness is a special distinct faculty,
by which we become aware of the feelings of the
mind, but also to deny that it is anything but the
feelings themselves, thus confounding the condition
of a fact with the fact itself. Because to be conscious
at any particular moment implies some particular
sensation, thought, or emotion of which we are con.
scious, he argues that the sensation, thought, or emotion is consciousness; because to be aware implies
something to be aware of, therefore the being aware
and the something whereof we are aware are the
same thing: a conclusion as grossly illogical as it is
contradictory to the best evidence which the subject
admits, which is practically admitted every day, and
which all goes to prove that for the mind to be affected, whether in sensibility, in thought, in volition,
or emotion, is one thing, and to be conscious of it is
another thing; and though the latter implies the
former, the former by no means always implies the
latter.




188          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
From the same systematic source, and sustained
by a like gross paralogism, comes his confusion and
identification of causation with succession. Because
every cause is an invariable antecedent, therefore ev.
ery invariable antecedent is a cause: a conclusion
no less strangely violating the simplest rules of logic,
than contradictory to the fundamental convictions of
the mind, which decide that a cause is not only that
which invariably precedes, but also that which produces the effect.
In the same systematic spirit, he denies the dis.
tinction between the primary and secondary quali.
ties of matter, and confounds perception with sensation, and a suggested belief.
There is no external world as an object of percep.
tion: there are only sensations, and a belief invinci.
bly suggested of their relation to some antecedent
out of the mind.
The same excessive desire for systematic simpli.
fication is seen in his reduction of all the intellectual
faculties to suggestion.
His mode of settling the controversy between Real.
ism and Nominalism, which is peculiar, and in perfect
harmony with his system, proceeds upon a misconcep.
tion in respect to the error of both the doctrines.
He saw very clearly that the Realists were wrong in
asserting that there is a general essence independent
of particular objects, answering to every general
term; but, from the nature of his system, he did not
see that to some general terms, as space, time, etc.,
there are general objects independent of particulars,
to which they apply. He held the Nominalists to be
wrong, because they attached the general term to
particular objects without referring to the resemblance between the particulars: but the Nominalists
did no such thing.  Thev maintained that there are




BROWN.                  189
general terms, as quadruped, which refer to no gen.
eral object apart from the individuals included under
them; and herein Brown would agree they were
right: but they also held the same of every general
term; herein was their error: an error which Brown
did not perceive, because it was also his own error.
The question about Nominalism is not-as Brown
takes for granted it is-a question whether there is
or is not a felt relation of resemblance between individuals of the same kind, which leads to the forma.
tion of the general term, but whether the general
term expresses any general object actually existing
apart from individuals with common qualities.
Denying the Beautiful to be either anything in it.
self, which may be more or less represented by objects of perception, or any simple quality in the objects termed beautiful, Brown resolves it into a mere
agreeable emotion of a peculiar kind. He thus confounds both the beautiful, and the perception and
judgment of it, with a mere sentiment or affection
of the sensibility which accompanies or follows the
perception and judgment, and thereby destroys the
possibility of any absolute standard of beauty or fix.
ed rules of art.
The same general confusion corrupts the Moral
system of Brown. Virtue is relative wholly to our
constitution. Certain actions awaken emotions of
approbation, just as certain flavours, etc., are naturally agreeable to the senses.  It is supposable that
our constitution might have been otherwise: and virtue and vice would have signified quite opposite ace
tions from what they now signify. There is, then,
no absolute, essential, and immutable difference between virtue and vice. The very immutability of
moral distinctions affirmed by Brown is admitted by
hion to be relative to the human constitution.




190          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
According to Brown, we do not approve an action
because it is virtuous, but it is virtuous because we
approve it.  This is contrary to the fact, and is a
confusion of two distinct though inseparable things,
the judgment of an act as right, and then an accom.
panying or consequent feeling of approbation. Brown
admits that the actions which are now approved, and
thereby made virtuous, might have been their very
opposites, and that such is not our constitution is
owing to the will of God. But why should God have
so constituted us? We, it is true, on Brown's principles, must approve and disapprove as we do, because we are so formed: but can the same reason
apply to God? In short, what other reason can be
conceived why God should have formed us to approve a certain action as right, except that it is right
in itself independently of our feeling?
MIACKINTOSH.
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH was born in Invernesshire,
in Scotland, in 1765, and educated at Aberdeen. He
afterward studied medicine at Edinburgh, and took
his degree of doctor in 1787. The celebrity he ac.;uired by his Vindicice Gallicce, or Defence of the
French Revolution against Burke, published in 1791,
diverted his attention to politics, and led him to adopt
the profession of law. He was appointed Recorder
of Bombay in 1803, and resided in India till 1811.
In 1813 he became a member of Parliament. He
died in 1832. In his General View of the Progress
of Ethical Philosophy, he has brought out a system
of his own peculiar enough to merit a brief notice in
this place.
Mackintosh opposes the selfish system, and believes
in the reality of disinterested virtue: but he denies




MACKINTOSH.                191
that our notions of right and wrong are original con.
ceptions of our reason, or that reason can be the
source of any principles which can influence the will.
He agrees, therefore, with the advocates of the sen.
timental system and of the system of the moral sense,
in making conscience a function of the sensibility.
He differs from them, however, in denying that it is
a primitive original principle: he thinks it is gradu.
ally formed and developed out of other and primitive
affections, or, in his own language, is a principle of
secondary formation, like self-love.
Self-love, the general desire for happiness, is not
primitive; it presupposes certain original instinctive
propensities, and the pleasure resulting from their
gratification, and then this pleasure constructed by
the mind as the object of desire, the end which it
seeks. Self-love is thus a principle of secondary
formation.  So is it likewise with conscience.  The
painful or agreeable sentiment naturally attending
certain emotions is transferred by association to the
actions they produce, and thus the actions themselves
become at length the immediate objects of approbation or repugnance. By the association of ideas, a
number of secondary desires and aversions, which
relate to actions or volitions, are combined in our
minds, and form a sort of internal sense, which we
call conscience, which approves or condemns certain
actions or volitions in themselves, and without regard
to their useful or injurious consequences.  This conscience is the only affection of our nature whose
immediate objects are volitions or voluntary actions.
The power of this conscience over the will results
from the instinctive influence of the primitive dispositions from which the moral sense is derived, from
tihe pleasure nat:uially accompanying the development
of those dispositions, and finally from the pleasure




192          MIODERN PILELOSOIPHY.
which likewise naturally accompanies a secondary
desire.-By thus making conscience a derzved sense,
and making the essence of virtue to consist in the
emotion or affection of that sense, the system of
Mackintosh lies open to all the objections brought
against those which resolve virtue into some primitive emotion or into the affection of an original
sense: virtue becomes relative and contingent, and
all real ground for the essential and absolute difference of right and wrong is destroyed.
COLERIDOGE
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE was born in Devonshire in 1772, and died in 1834.  He was educated
first at Christ Church Hospital school, and afterward
at Cambridge.  In his early life he was a follower o!
Hartley; but at a later period, his philosophical, as
well as his religious and political views, underwent a
great change.  He was a man of eminent genius as
a poet and as a thinker, and was possessed of an im.
mense amount of various and profound learning: bm
he was averse to regular and systematic production.
It is not as the founder of any complete and pecu.
liar system that his name is here introduced.  His
philosophical writings are extremely fragmentary,
consisting of scattered contributions to psychology,
metaphysics, morals, politics, and apsthetics.  These,
though strongly marked by the author's profound
learning, depth, and originality of mind, exhibit prin.
ciples not fundamentally diffbrent from those of the
great systems which have appeared in opposition to
exclusive emrpiricisrm.  To analyze or to reproduce
his peculiar modes of establishing or illustrating these
principles, would occupy too much space to be here
given to writings which present no complete and pe.
culiar system9  Yet the great influence which Cole.




COLERIDGE.               193
ridge has exerted upon the character and direction
of philosophical thinking, entitles his name to a place
in the history of philosophy, and would make it imra.
proper to pass it by without, at least, some general
remarks.
Coleridge represents himself to have devoted the
largest part of' his mature life to the preparation of
a systematic work, which was to contain a full and
complete exposition of his philosophy, and to have
substantially executed a part of his plan. He did not
live to publish any portion of this work. Of the philosophical writings published by him, the most gen.
eral character is critical and polemical, as against
the principles of sensualism in philosophy and of the
selfish system in morals. Of these, in their prinJci.
ples and in their consequences, he was a most ear.
nest opponent, and in various passages of his works
he has placed the objections which may be urged
against them in a very original and striking light.
Coleridge sketched a psychological classification
of the phenomena of the mind under the following
powers or faculties: the senses; the imitative pow.
er, voluntary and automatic; the imagination, or
shaping and modifying power; the fancy, or aggregative and associative power; the understanding, or
regulative, substantiating, and realizing power; the
speculative reason, vis theoretica et scienofica, or the
power by which we produce, or aim to produce, uni.
ty, necessity, and universality in all our knowledge,
by means of principles a priori; the will, or practical reason; the faculty of' choice; and (distinct both
from the moral will and choice) the sensation of vo.
lition, which is included under the head of single and
double touch.
Of the phenomena thus classified, he has, however,
given no complete analysis; and, with the exception
II- -R




194          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
of some remarks upon the distinction between fancy
and imagination, has explained his views distinctly
upon none of them except the moral will and the understanding and reason. In regard to the will, he
strenuously maintains it to be a self.determining power, not subject to the law of cause and effect, and holds
this as the only possible ground of moral accountability.
The distinction between the understanding and the
reason he insists upon as of the utmost consequence
in its relations to all the higher questions of ontology,
morals, and theology. These faculties, he contends,
in the same way as Kant, are different in kind: the
former being. the faculty of judging according to
sense, or the faculty of generalizing the notices received from the senses according to certain forms,
and referring them to their proper names and classes; the latter being the faculty of originating, by occasion of notices of the senses, necessary and universal principles.
Some of the most interesting things in the wri.
tings of Coleridge relate to the differences and to the
analogies between life and intelligence, and to the il.
lustration which may be derived to psychology from
the consideration of the dynamic forces. From these
sources he has drawn many profound and original
views, of great importance in their general bearing
upon the mechanical philosophy and material psy.
chology.
Coleridge borrowed largely from Kant and Schel.
ling; and though, in reading his writings, the impres.
sion can hardly be resisted that he was equal to them
in original speculative ability, and their superior in
learning and critical power, yet, from his indolence,
and his want of constructive talent, and particularly
the talent for clear and systematic exposition, he has




SCHELLING.               195
contributed little that will occupy a permanent and
substantive place in the general history of philosophy.
His writings contain numerous thoughts and fragments of thought, which may continue to be, as they
have already been, rich germes, that may be unfolded by meditative minds endowed with more patience
and skill in development than he possessed. In this
way the influence of Coleridge has been very considerable in opposing the progress of a superficial and
materializing spirit in philosophy, and in establishing
the foundations of the great truths of morals and re.
ligion.
GERMAN PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
SCHELLING'S SYSTEM OF ABSOLUTE IDENTITY.
Historical Notices.
FREDERIC WILLIAM VON SCHELLING was born at
Leonberg, in Wirtemberg, in 1775. He studied at
Leipsic and at Jena. At the latter place he was a
pupil of Fichte, whom he succeeded as professor
there. In 1820 he removed to Erlangen, and lectured in the University. He was made secretary of
the Academy of Fine Arts at Munich, and ennobled
by the King of Bavaria. In 1827 he was appointed
professor in the University of Munich. He publish.
ed a great number of works, a few of which appear
ed in the last years of the eighteenth century.
Schelling was full of originality as a thinker; superior to Fichte in many respects, having a richer
imagination, more poetic spirit, and a much greater
extent of learning and information. He was at first
a partisan of Fichte, whose system  he defended




196          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
against the Kantians; but he gradually separated
himself from his master, and at length brought out
a system of his own: a system so strange in sub.
stance and form, when compared with current philo.
sophical ideas and language, that it is scarcely possible to give the general reader any intelligible account of it within the limits of a work like this. An
attempt will, however,. be made.
Exposition.
Fichte had deduced everything from the subject.
ive as creating and containing all reality. Yet why
may not the objective produce the subjective, as well
as the subjective the objective? No reason can be
given. We can no more deduce the infinite from
the finite, than the finite from the infinite, by any of
the processes of reflection. In order to have complete science, therefore, we must find a principle in
which both the finite and infinite, the subjective and
objective, are originally united.  This principle is the
Absolute Identity of subject and object in cognition.
In Absolute Identity, knowing and being are one.
The absolute in itself contains the essence and the
form of all things. The absolute and its develop.
ment constitute all reality.  The absolute in itself is
neither being nor knowing, neither infinite nor finite,
but the ground of both.
All the phenomena of the universe are the development of the absolute identity either in the direction
of the ideal or of the real, that is, either as the think.
ing principle or as objects of thought; just as all
the phenomena of magnetism are the results of one
identical force manifesting itself in opposite poles.
The absolute identity of being and knowing mani
fests itself sometimes with a predominance of the
ideal, sometimes of the real. This development of
the absolute is apprehended by a process which Schel.




SCHELLING.                 197
ling sometimes calls Intellectual Intuition, sometimes
a spontaneous revelation of the absolute, and sometimes a descent or fall of ideas from the absolute.
Conformably with these views, the following are
the leading propositions of this system:
1. There exists but one sole, substantial, identical
Being. Finite existences, or objects produced by
reflection, Which is altogether relative in its nature,
have only an apparent reality.
2. The absolute Being reveals himself in the eter.
nal generation of things, which constitute the forms
and modes of this sole and only Being. Everything
is therefore a manifestation of God under a determinate form, and nothing can exist which does not
partake of the Divine Being. Nature accordingly
is not dead, but living and divine equally with the
spiritual world.
3. The manifestation of the absolute being in op.
posite directions, like that of the polar forces in nature, which are but different expressions of one iden.
tical force, there are various degrees of development,
the ideal sometimes predominating, and sometimes
the real.  Science is the investigation of this devel.
opment; it is an image of the universe.
This ideal construction of the universe, according
to which all plurality and diversity are regarded only
as a relative form of absolute identity, may be thus
exhibited:
I. The ABSOLUTE, the WHOLE, in its first form (GOD) manifests
itself in
II. NATURE (the Absolute in its second form).
It therein projects itself in two orders of the Relative, to wit:
The Real.                  The Ideal.
Under the following powers;
Gravity-M atter.           Truth-Science.
Light-Motion.              Goodness-Religion.
Organization-Life.        Beauty-Art.




198          MODERN PHILOSOPHY~
As reflected forms of the universe, we have,
Man (the Microcosm)..........   The States
The System of the World (the external Universe). History.
In this way, by Intellectual Intuition, Schelling be.
lieved he had discovered in ideas both the essence
and the necessary form of things. Thus he imagined
he had corrected the error of Kant, who admitted
only a subjective notion of the phenomenal world,
and a simple belief in the reality of things in themselves; and thus, also, he pretended to refute Fichte,
who made the thinking principle the sole reality, and
nature a non-reality, a mere limit or negative of the
absolute activity of the thinking principle.
Schelling applied his fundamental principles chiefly to the philosophy of nature, treating of the ideal
branch only in respect to some special questions in
his later writings.
In morals, he taught that the belief in God is the
primary basis of morality. The existence of a moral world immediately follows from the existence of
God.
Morality is the necessary tendency of the soul to
unite itself to its centre, to God. Virtue is conform.
ity to this tendency. Virtue and happiness are identical.
The social life, regulated conformably to the Divine
type in respect to morals, religion, science, and art,
is social order, or the State.
History, in its totality, is a progressive and unceasing revelation of God.
In his treatise on the freedom of man, Schelling
distinguishes God, conceived in the perfect purity of
the idea, or as the absolute, from God as existent or
revealing himself, in which latter relation he evolves
himself out of the absolute God, in virtue of a prin.
ciple contained in himself, a nature in God, and thus




SCHELLING.                199
comes to the state of complete existence; so that it
is in the world that God comes to a state of personality.  Deus implicitus explicitus.  God is the abso.
lute identity of the ideal and real evolving itself from
the original absolute union, or, rather, confusion, or,
adopting an image from dynamics, indifference of
both.
There is a like double principle in every being produced by nature.
In man this principle is personality, which is composed of reason and will. When personality acts
arbitrarily, in opposition to reason, which is the prop.
er law of freedom, evil arises, which, however, is
only relative.
The Beautiful, which Schelling treats only in relation to works of art, is the representation of the infinite by the finite. Creative art is an expression of
ideas; it is a revelation of God in the human mind.
Observatiom7s.
1. Schelling aimed to give a complete philosophy
of the universe, to deduce and explain all things from
speculative principles. His system reduces every.
thing to a single idea, and thereby maintains the possibility for man of a certain knowledge, not only of
the subjective, but also of the objective, on the ground
that the human mind and God are primitively identical. It thus destroys the chasm between the finite
and infinite, which philosophy, unwilling to leap it by
faith, has ever been attempting to bridge.
It removes likewise all distinction between empirical and rational cognition, between knowledge given
in experience and knowledge given in the necessary
laws of reason; it thus makes speculative principles
equally the basis of all the sciences.
2. Yet the whole system is destitute of a solid ba




200          MODERN PHILOSOPHY
sis. It sets out, not from a fact of consciousness, bul
from Intellectual Intuition, a mere assumption nei.
ther self-evident nor demonstrable.
Again, thought without a thinking subject is a pure
abstraction; absolute identity cannot be conceived
without a relative identity; for without this condition
the Absolute reduces itself to Nothing. The alleged
original confusion of thought and the nature of things
is a mere abstraction; and in pretending that it represents reality and the nature of things, a hypothesis
without proof is set up.
3. This system is more scientific in appearance
than in reality. Schelling's problem was to deduce
by a real demonstration the finite from the infinite,
the relative from the absolute, the particular from the
universal. This is a problem which cannot be sol.
ved, and Schelling has not solved it.  His demonstrations consist of assertions and assurances, support.
ed by analegies, images, and notions borrowed from
experience.
4. The idea of God presented in this system is
both in itself and in its most important relations, ob.
jectionable. God is subjected to a blind destiny, under which he must evolve himself from non-intelli.
gence to intelligence, from a nature in God to God.
This is a mere hypothesis, and, besides, neither ac.
counts for the existence of God, nor renders it any
more comprehensible than the common theory, which
supposes him to have existed from eternity as the
All-perfect Being: a theory which can never be dis.
proved.
It is, also, a system of pantheism in one sense of
the word: it identifies nature with God, and asserts
the immanence of all things in him; thus destroying
all proper notion of the creation and government of
the world by infinite wisdom and holiness. It de



SCHOOL OF SCHELLING.           201
stroys the substantial individuality and personality
of creatures, and all freedom of will in man, and
thereby contradicts the law of duty in conscience,
and destroys the distinction between right and wrong.
Progress of the School of Schelling.
The system of Schelling was attractive by the ap.
parent facility with which it offered to explain the uni.
verse; by its many novel and striking ideas; by the
prospect which it held out of the indefinite extension
of human knowledge; and particularly by its con.
trast with the dry forms of Kant, and the lifeless system of Fichte. With many the attraction was, per.
haps, increased by the very faults of the author's meth.
od and style: his obscure and fluctuating terminologies, and his mystical expressions and images imitated from Plato. These circumstances, combined
with the spirit of his time and of the German mind,
may perhaps explain the enthusiasm excited by the
philosophy of Schelling.  A numerous school was
formed among philosophers, theologians, philologists,
physicians, and naturalists. All branches of science
were treated in the spirit of his system.  The ideas
of Schelling exerted especially a great influence upon
physical inquiries, upon mythology, history, and the
theory of the arts and criticism, in the latter of which
the celebrated brothers Schlegel, at that time associates and friends of Schelling, contributed powerful.
ly to extend the influence of his system.
On the other hand, this school was prolific in fan.
tastic ideas and mystical extravagances, which al.
most revived the age of New-Platonism.
Of the numerous writers who belong to the school
of Schelling, our limits forbid our speaking in detail.
Many of them endeavoured to reconcile his system
II,-16




202          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
with Revelation and Christianity; others did not deny
their incompatibility. Of his early followers, some,
as Eschenmayer and Wagner, became afterward his
opponents; others modified his system in some re.
spects; and Hegel put forth a different system.  Of
those who confined themselves to expounding and
teaching the system of Schelling, the most faithful
interpreter was Klein, professor at Wurtzburg, who
died in 1820. It was reduced to didactic forms by
Thanner and Bixner, and its principles were applied
to theology by Daub. To these might be added a
long list of writers who have developed or modified
this system, or parts of it, in various degrees and applications; but it would be of little use to cite their
names, and we should have room for nothing more.
Among the opponents of the philosophy of Schelling may be mentioned all the principal partisans of
the system of Kant (the most distinguished of whom
are Fries and Krug); the authors of some new systems, as HIerbart, Bardili, Bouterwek, and Jacobi and
his school. Various other attempts to construct the
system of philosophy were put forth in the first years
of the present century; but they are either too eccen.
tric and obscure, or too superficial to deserve attention; and as to the rest, they are mostly the ideas of
others, having a character of novelty only from their
peculiar nomenclature. Of the writers that have
been named, we shall briefly notice Bouterwek and
the school of Jacobi.
BOUTERWEK.
FREDERIC BOUTERWEK, professor at G6ttingen,
born in 1766, died in 1828, was a distinguished
thinker, though his acuteness too often degenerated
into an obscure subtlety, notwithstanding the habitual




BOUTERWEK.                 203
clearness of his style.  At first a follower of Kant,
he became convinced that his philosophy could not
be maintained against skepticism. The system of
Fichte appeared too exclusive to satisfy the desire
for reality in the mind; and, on the other hand, it
seemed to him that science cannot dispense with
the absolute, without which he could not conceive
the possibility of knowledge or thought, since in all
our proofs we always suppose something real, an entity, the absolute, that unknown X, which, according
to Kant, subsists under all phenomena. Bouterwek
therefore proposed, in his Idea of a Universal Apodic.
tic, to supply the defects and correct the vices of anterior systems, which he found fault with as investi.
gating our cognitions and beliefs only in notions of
the understanding and empty formulas, and conse.
quently never attaining to any living fundamental
science.
The doctrine of this work may be reduced to the
following points:
All our sensations and thoughts have for their ba.
sis a true existence, consequently an absolute existence, having its basis only in itself.  This existence
cannot be found and demonstrated by thought, since
all thought presupposes it, and being is superior to
thought.  Consequently, either existence must be
reduced to a caprice of the imagination, and all
thought to a chimera, or there must be a faculty of
absolute cognitions, which is neither sensation nor
thought: a faculty upon which rests the authenticity
of reason itself, and by which we arrive directly (apo.
dictically) at all existence.
Subsequently Bouterwek abandoned this apodictic,
and substituted for it a new scheme: one which he
called a Universal Theory of Truth and Science, ac.
cording to which, on the principle of the faith of rea.




204          MODERN PIIILOSOPHY.
son in itself, he constructed a less bold system  of
transcendental rationalism.  In this view, the principal object of philosophy is to solve, by the apodictical distinction of' the real and the apparent, the problem of things and the destination of man, as far as
it is possible for human reason to penetrate by itself
this question.  It is therefore upon an apodeiclic (ac.
cording to the last view adopted by Bouterwek) that
philosophy must be grounded: empirical psychology
and logic, ordinarily understood as the science of t{he
forms of thought, can furnish only the preliminary
notions. Here the author agrees with Jacobi, that
all purely logical thinking is mediate.  All our immediate cognitions, without which we could conceive
of a discursive notion only as mediate, and consequently uncertain, rest upon the primitive bond of
connexion of the thinking faculty with an internal
sentiment in the energy of the spiritual life, that is,
in the unity of the active faculties of our being, as
well subjective as objective.  Reason has faith in itself as far as it is pure reason; it believes in the
-truth, inasmuch as it recognises in it, in virtue of the
bond of connexion just indicated, its own peculiar
and original energy, and in that same energy finds
the germe of ideas, by the aid of which it can rise
above the sphere of the sensibility, and investigate
the principle of all existence and all thought, or the
idea of the absolute. Truth, in the metaphysical
sense of the word, is the agreement of our thoughts
with the supersensible essence of things, and their
necessary relation to the principle of all being and
all thought: truth is therefore immediately known
by reason.  To give this idea a scientific form, by
showing how, upon what grounds, and to what ex.
tent, a positive knowledge of things is possible for
the human mind, is the province of metaphysics




SCHOOL OF JACOBI.             205
(including religious philosophy grounded in the religious sentiment).  Bouterwek applied his principles to a system of morals and natural law, and attempted also to form  a system  of aesthetics upon.
purely psychological principles.
New Develonpments of the Philosophy of Sentiment.
JACOBI has already been mentioned, in connexion,
with Kant, as one who exerted a powerful influence
in the reaction against the Critical philosophy.  But
it should be added that he lived till 1819, and no less
vigorously opposed the subsequent developments of
speculation as they appeared in the systems of Fichte
and Schelling. Dissatisfied with the Critical philosophy, as taking away all rational ground for belief in
supersensible things, and equally dissatisfied with all
dogmatical systems of speculation, which, if consistent, can only lead to fatalism or pantheism, and yet
unable to find solid ground in the idea of a supernat.
ural revelation, he continued to ground all philosoph.
ical knowledge upon a sort of rational instinct, an
immediate sentiment or direct apperception of supersensible truth.  This sentiment, this instinctive faith
(quite distinct from positive historical faith in revelation), gives us the knowledge of the external world,
of God, of Providence, of Freedom, Immortality,
Morality: in short, the whole supersensible order of
things, in virtue of an internal sense, an organ of
truth, to which he afterward gives the name of rea.
son, or the faculty of cognition.
Some obscurity in which he left his fundamental
principle, and some want of precision in the distinc.
tion he made between reason as the faculty of supersensible ideas and understanding as the faculty of
logical forms, exposed him to numerous misconcep.
tions and attacks on the part of those whom he op.
II.



206          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
posed. He found, however, numerous partisans, and
may be said to have founded a school. But the
vagueness to which we have alluded gave rise to a
sort of schism among his followers.
Some of them considered ideas as divine revela.
tions, by means of perception, and they attributed
these ideas to reason as their special faculty: they
held, moreover, that the notions of the understand.
ing perform, with relation to these ideas, a part altogether negative; that is to say, that ideas could neither be attained, conceived, nor expressed by the aid
of notions of the understanding; that they are man.
ifested in sentiment alone; in fine, that faith precedes
and surpasses all science.
Others conceded more to logical notions, and made
philosophy consist in the unity of reason and understanding: a unity which takes its substance from reason, and its form from understanding. This second
opinion was adopted by Jacobi himself, but only in
his latter years.
The first of these views was maintained by Fred.
eric Kwppen, a genial writer, and the author of an
excellent exposition of the system of this school.
To the second class of opinions belong the works of
James Salat.
Kceppen, the friend and disciple of Jacobi, sets
out with the idea of freedom: according to him, free.
dom is a causative power, which takes its determination in itself, without any determining principle, and
independently of any relation; it is consequently the
first cause, the ground of all existence; in short, Being properly called. But, at the same time, freedom
is altogether inconceivable by the understanding;
even its possibility cannot be distinctly apprehended,
nor its reality demonstrated; it is a fact of cognition
and of activity perceived immediately. Necessity




HEGEL.                 207
is an order established by freedom.  To speak of
unlimited and absolute freedom is to speak of the divine power. But the nature of human individuality
consists in the relation of the internal and external.
By this relation freedom is found to be limited in
man. All philosophy is consequently a dualism.
On this dualism turns the everlasting and inevitable
contradiction of science. From this, again, it follows
that philosophy, strictly speaking, is impossible, and
that all scientific pretension in the proper sense of
the word, all pretension to a speculative system that
shall embrace both the finite and the infinite, is destined only to fall back foiled upon itself.
The writings of Kceppen, as well as those of Jacobi,
whatever be thought of their system in its fundamental principles, exerted a very salutary influence upon
the philosophy of the day. They opposed the rash.
ness of dogmatic speculation; they developed with
great freshness and spirit many valuable ideas, some
original, some borrowed from Platonism; and their
very inability to substitute anything adequately satisfying to the moral wants of the mind, in place of the
speculative systems they opposed, tended to recall
men to a positive faith, grounded in a higher source
than their principle of sentiment.  It may be added
that Jacobi himself is said before his death to have
admitted the authority of revelation as the source of
the knowledge of divine things.
NOTE.
The most recent German Speculations. Hegel.
IT would be scarcely possible to give within the
limits of this sketch anything like a clear and com.
plete view of the progress of philosophy in Germany
for the last twenty years, or of its present condition.




208          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
While Fries, Krug, and some others continued t&
maintain the principles of Kant, and the school of
Jacobi to oppose all dogmatic speculations, new de.
velopments and modifications, in various directions,
of the principles of Schelling from time to time ap.
peared, until at length philosophical discussion received a new direction from the attempt of Hegel to
establish a system distinct from any of the preceding.
George Will. Fred. HEGEL was born in 1770.
He was professor successively at Jena, Heidelberg,
and Berlin, at which latter place he died of the chol,
era in 1831.
Hegel was at first the disciple of Schelling, and,
as such, published in 1801 a tract on the difference
between the systems of Fichte and Schelling. He
was also associated with him in the conduct of a phil.
osophical journal in 1802-3. But his opinions grad.
ually took a different turn. He rejected Schelling's
Intellectual Intuition as an unwarrantable assumption, although he continued to maintain its ground.
ing idea, namely, the unity of the subjective or ide.
al, and the objective or real; and in this idea endeav.
oured to establish that absolute cognition and abso.
lute truth, which alone, according to this school,
can satisfy the demands of the philosophical spirit.
Hence he maintained that pure conception in itself,
and pure conception alone, is true being, without hav.
ing, however, demonstrated this identity of being and
thinking. Equally arbitrary, also, is the position
that everything rational is real, and everything real
rational: a position which, in a practical view, would
make the moral law, considered as demands of the
reason upon the will, without object, and therefore
superfluous, since the will, by the terms of the posi.
tion, can make nothing real that is not rational.
The weakest part of the system of tlegel is the




HEGEL.                 209
Esthetical, or philosophy of art, and the theological,
or philosophy of religion. It is said by Weisse, once
a very warm partisan of Hegel, but since somewhat
cooled, that aesthetics and theology begin where
Hegel leaves off.  For what we call the ideas of the
Beautiful and of God, Hegel admits only in the way of
psychological and historical appearance; they are to
him merely phenomenal, and the science of them is
merely a part of the phenomenology of the mind.
Hegel seems not, indeed, to have perfectly developed his system; and as he was very deficient in
the talent for exposition, and his writings are not only
extremely obscure, but dry and harsh, it is scarcely
possible to be satisfied that one has a clear and com.
plete view of his philosophy. Of those who would
be thought to comprehend it, very many regard it as
a perfect system  of rational science.  Certain it is
that he exerted a powerful influence on the German
mind; he founded a school, and drew around him a
numerous body of zealous and distinguished followers. He derived, indeed, external support from a
prevalent impression that his system tended better
than any other to secure the permanence of the ex.
isting order of things in Church and State, and this
political popularity increased the number of his disci.
ples. Some eight or ten years since, it was said by
one of Hegel's critics to be a remarkable thing, that
among his numerous disciples, none had yet been able
to relieve the obscurity, heaviness, and dryness of his
mode of philosophizing by a clearer, more agreeable,
and lively exposition; that they all continued to use
their master's words, phrases, and turns of expres.
sion, as if they were magic formulas, which would
lose their power by the slightest change. The case
would seem since then to have become somewhat,therwise, in some respects at least; for while a por.
I'TL-.t 7




210          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
tion of his followers continue to adhere to the more
abstruse and speculative forms and style of Hegel,
others are endeavouring to popularize and extend it
in every direction. A schism appears, indeed, to
have sprung up in the bosom of the school, which,
loined with the powerful attacks made upon it from
without, chiefly in the interest of religion and morals,
would seem to betoken the dissolution and downfall
of which Hegel is said, shortly before his death, to
have expressed a presentiment. At present it is the
centre of nearly all philosophical interest.  Its principles, particularly in their applications to theology
and morals, as developed and defended by its friends,
and opposed by its enemies, are subjects of the most
animated controversy. Some of Hegel's school endeavour to reconcile his principles with orthodox
Christianity; others impose them upon Christianity,
giving its historical documents only a mythical or
allegorical significance; while others reject it altogether, and openly proclaim opinions at variance with
all ordinary notions of religion or morality.
The system of Hegel, equally with that of Schel.
ling, is charged with being a species of pantheism.
That it may be so is to be inferred, not merely from
its pretension of giving the knowledge of the absolute,
but from its identification of the subjective and ob.
jective. Some of the followers of Hegel assert the
personality of God; but others expressly deny it, and
maintain that they only are in harmony with Hegel.
God is represented by them as the immanence of spirit
in the world; as an eternal, universal principle, manifesting itself in individual existences, having no ob.
jective existence but in those individuals; coming to
self-consciousness only in human reason, and having
no personality distinct from the personality of man.
They are also represented as holding that the Abso.




FRENCH PHILOSOPHY.           211
lute attains to consciousness in a series of individu.
als, no one of which perfectly represents him, each
having significance only as a member of the whole.
It is needless to dwell upon the consequences of
pantheism as a part of the system thus represented,
the subversion of all proper ideas of morality, human
freedom, immortality, and another world. Whether or not Hegel admitted these consequences, one of
his most respectable followers shows that some of'the most important of them are logically involved in
his principles, and all of them are expressly maintained by others.-Such is a very imperfect sketch
of the present state of philosophical discussion in
Germany.
FRENCH PHILOSOPHY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
Preliminary Observations.
IT has already been seen how, in the latter half of
the eighteenth century, the principles of Locke were
unfolded in France by Condillac into a complete system of sensualism, and carried out by Helvetius,
D'Holbach, and others to their legitimate consequen.
ces, materialism, fatalism, atheism, and the destruc.
tion of moral distinctions. From this time to the
French revolution sensualism was the reigning doctrine; it pervaded every department of intellectual
production, art, morals, religion, the physical and
economical sciences. It extended itself from Paris
throughout the provinces, and obtained complete control of the education of the country.
During the Revolution all minds were absorbed by
the exciting events of that period, and the little phil




212          MODERN PHILOSOPIH..
osophical activity that existed was directed to politiL
cal theories.  With the restoration of public order
the philosophical spirit began to awaken, and naturally
enough continued in the direction in which it was proceeding when arrested. The philosophy of Condillac
was revived, and, favoured by the organization of
the Institute, and the establishment of the Normal
Schools under the Directorial government, acquired
a predominating influence.  From this time to the
Consulate philosophy was zealously cultivated,
though always in the direction of sensualism.  alNo
opposition as yet had appeared, exceptincidentally
in literary works.  Among the most important works
produced during this period are those of Cabanis and
Destutt de Tracy.
From the time of the Empire tokens of a reaction
began to appear more distinctly, though at first in
productions of imagination and sentiment rather than
scientific works. A more direct token and cause of
the decline of sensualism consisted in the character
of a work produced about this time by Laromiguiere,
a writer avowedly of the school of Condillac, but who,
by the distinctions he introduced, favoured a contrary
system. But it was not until 1811 that the opposi.
tion to sensualism became organized and systematic.
From 1811 to 1814 the celebrated Royer-Collard
expounded the philosophy of Reid, and exerted a powerful influence in overthrowing the system of Condillac, and establishing a contrary system.'I'he reac.
tion against sensualism was still farther strengthened
by a class of writers in the interest of religion and
the Church, such as Le Maistre, Chateaubriand, Bo.
nald, etc.
Thus, from the Empire to the Restoration, sensu.
alism continued to decline, and from the latter period
to the present day it may be said to have lost all au



CABANIS.                213
thority and influence. The disciples and successors
of Royer.Collard have completed the victory begun
by him, and gone forward into a still wider sphere of
speculation. For more than twenty years nearly all
the leading minds have been on the side of the new
movement, and the influence of a spiritual philosophy
has pervaded French literature in almost every department.
A little more particular account of the principal
writers connected with this revival and decline of
sensualism, and with the progress of the new movement, will now be given.
SENSUAL SCHOOL
CABANIS.
PETER JOHN GEORGE CABANIS was born at Cognac
in 1757.  He studied at Paris, where he addicted
himself at first to general literature, but afterward to
medical science. He was a member of the Institute,
clinical professor in the medical school of Paris, and
snbsequently a senator under the Empire.  He died
in 1808. His most important work, Rapports du
Physique and du Moral de l'Homme, On the Relation
of the Physical Organization of Man to his Moral
Faculties (Paris, 1802), attracted great attention.
Exposition.
Cabanis grounded his views upon the system of
Condillac, which explained all the phenomena of the
mind by sensations. I-e adopted this system, and
thought he could perfect and complete it by establish.
ing the nature and origin of sensation itself.
It is not certain that among all animals sensation,
or rather sensibility, is a property of the nerves:
for there are some animals, as the polypi and infuso.




214           MODERN PHILOSOPIHY.
rial insects, who have feeling, and yet are apparently
destitute of any nervous apparatus. But in animals
that resemble man, and in man especially, sensibility resides exclusively in the nerves, as the simple
experiment of cutting or tying the trunk of any set
of nerves demonstrates.
Sensation, moreover, depends upon every impres.
sion made upon the extremities of any set of nerves
being followed by a reaction from the centre of the
organ towards the extremities, so that sensibility unfolds itself in two distinct stages.  In the first it
acts, in the second it reacts; in the first it flows back
from the circumference to the centre, and in the sec.
ond returns from the centre to the circumference.
In whatever way this may be conceived, it is certain that sensibility resides in the nerves, and thereby
all the moral faculties, intelligence, will, etc. Man
is a moral being only because he is a sensitive being;
he is sensitive only because he has nerves: man is
entirely constituted by nerves.'These are the principles unfolded in the work of Cabanis.
The extreme simplicity of the system is the first
point with which one is struck. An impression re.
ceived, an action and reaction of the nerves, a sentiment resulting: this is the whole theory. The relations between the physical and moral in man no
longer offer any difficulties; the intellectual and
moral faculties are the effect, the physical nervous
organization the cause; sentiment or feeling is at
once the last term of the phenomena which constitute life, and the first of those which we attribute to
mind.
It is remarkable, again, with what ease this theory
submits to a multitude of particular applications. It
is well known, for instance, that age, sex, temperament, regimen, climate, exert a great influence on




CABANIS.                 21 l
the intellectual and moral character of men: nothing
is more easily explained; these are only so many
circumstances affecting the nervous system, and
through that the sensibility, intelligence, will, etc.
Only get at the causes which act upon the state of
the nerves, and the feelings that result from them,
and you may easily explain all the moral phenomena
of the human soul.
Observations.
t. But all this does not establish the truth of the
theory of Cabanis.  That in the present state of
human existence a nervous organization and ner.
vous impressions are the necessary condition of all
intellectual and moral phenomena, may be readily
admitted, and is certainly true; but it does not follow
that they are their constituent principle and cause.
So also it may be admitted that the nervous organization exercises a great influence in modifying intellectual and moral development, and yet it does not
follow that the intellectual and moral in man result
from this organization. In short, the facts establish.
ed by Cabanis prove nothing against the, distinct ex.
istence, the substantial nature, the unity and simpli.
city of the soul, as a principle different in itself from
the organization, though at present intimately connected with it, and conditioned by it in regard to its
activity.
2. The theory of Cabanis is burdened by insuper.
able difficulties. In the first place, it is impossible
to explain how feeling should result from the action
and reaction of the nerves. We can conceive that
the first can take place, that the external object can
excite an action (affection) of the nerve; but no
principle is shown that is to produce the reaction.
In the second place, if the nerves themselves feel




216          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
and are conscious, there is no way of explaining the
unity of consciousness, which is nevertheless a fact
of experience.  For, according to the theory, there
must be as many selves as there are different kinds
of nervous impressions.  It is to no purpose to say
that the different nerves and their various affections
all unite in a central organ, and thus produce our
consciousness of unity, of our being one and the
same self. This is merely taking a verbal for a real
unity.  For this nervous centre is only a collection
of nerves designated by a common name.
3. It is needless to remark at length upon the mor.
al consequences of this theory.  It is a system of
materialism, and, as such, involves fatalism, and the
destruction of moral distinctions, of the belief in a fu.
ture life and in God. Cabanis himself did not derive
these consequences, and did not wish to hold them.
It may be added that the views of Cabanis were
considerably modified at a later period, as appears
from a letter of his published after his death. In his
first work he did not consider the soul as a principle
by itself; in this letter he no longer regards it as a
result of the organization, but as a distinct living
force present in the organization.
DESTUTT DE TRACY.
COUNT DESTUTT DE TRACY, peer of France, was
born in 1754. His Elements of Ideology were pub.
lished in 1801.
He was the metaphysician of the sensual school
of that period, as Cabanis was its physiologist. Caba~nis, though a sensualist, and holding the principle
of' 2ondillac, occupied himself with it less as a phi.
losopher than as a naturalist, desirous to explain the
principle by a physiological hypothesis.  De Tracy




DE TRACY.                 217
implicitly adopts the principle of Cabanis without an.
alyzing or unfolding it. His object is to analyze all
mental phenomena into sensation. Assuming his
grounding principles from Condillac, he reasons from
them with great strictness and with remarkable clear.
ness of style.
His theory is very simple. The mind is nothing
but sensibility. The sensibility is susceptible of four
sorts of impressions: 1. Those which arise fiom the
present action of objects upon the organs; 2. Those
which result from their past action, by means of a cer.
tain disposition which that action left upon the or.
gans; 3. Those of things which have relations, and
may be compared; 4. Those which spring from our
wants, and lead us to seek satisfaction for them. Ev.
erything comes from the affection of the sensibility
through impressions made upon the organs of sense.
When the sensibility is affected by the first sort of
impressions, it feels simply; when by the second, it
repeats or recollects; when by the third, it feels relations or judges; when by the fourth, it desires or
wills. Thus sensation, according to the nature of its
objects, manifests itself respectively as pure percep.
tion, or memory, or judgment, or will. It is, therefore, the sole principle of all our faculties, and of all
operations of the mind, since there is none of them
which may not be reduced to one or the other of
these forms of sensibility.
With respect to the fundamental principle of De
Tracy, the general objections that have been indicated in regard to Cabanis, Condillac, etc., apply of
course.  With respect to the particular analysis by
which he has endeavoured to explain all mental phe.
nomena according to that principle, it may be enough
briefly to remark, that there are operations of the
II.-T




218          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
mind which cannot be explained by his method.
Generalization, for example, is neither perception, nor
recollection, nor judgment, nor volition, though it
may presuppose them all. Imagination likewise,
though conditioned by perception and aided by memory, is different from either; its function is to repre.
sent something that has never precisely existed for
sensation.  So, also, in regard to all the absolute,
necessary, and universal convictions of the mind, they
are presupposed in experience (sensation); they are
suggested by it and applied to it; but they are never
facts of sensation. By no analysis can the absolute
conviction of the relations of the angles of all possible triangles to two right angles, of the relation of all
possible phenomena to a cause, etc., be made facts of
sensation. The same remark applies in regard to
moral and religious ideas; and, finally, to select another example, without intending a complete enumeration, his confusion of will with desire, and reduction of
all volitions to sensitive desires, contradicts our con.
sciousness.  If there are volitions (in his sense of
the word) which he can explain as particular movements of the mind in sensation, there are otherswhich
he cannot so explain.
VOLNEY.
CONSTANTINE FRANCIS CHASSE-B(EUF, COUNT DE
VOLNEY, was born at Craon, in Brittany, in 1755.
Inspired from his youth with an ardent desire of see.
ing foreign countries, he travelled in Egypt and Syr.
ia, and studied the Oriental languages for some time
at the convent on Mount Lebanon. He was a deputy of the tiers etat in the States-General in 1789,
where he embraced the popular side.  In 1794 he
was professor of history at the normal school. He
afterward travelled in the United States. Under the




VOLNEY.                 219
Consulate he was a member of the senate. After
the restoration in 1814 he was made a peer of France.
He died in 1820. His most celebrated work is his
Ruins, an infidel production. He is connected with
the history of philosophy in France by his Citizen's
Catechism, or Physical Principles of Morals.  He is
the moral philosopher of the sensual school of his
time.
There is very little originality in his moral philosophy.  It is essentially that of all the partisans of
the sensual system; in particular, it is that of Hel.
vetius, D'Holbach, and Saint-Lambert. Volnay has
only reduced it to its simplest expression.
His principle is clear and simple. Seyf.preserva.
tion, to take care of his life, is man's only duty. By
this he means nothing profound, refined, or out of the
ordinary sense. He understands the words as all the
world understand them. He means that man should
take care to preserve his life, to maintain himself in
a sound physical state. Even if he were not explicit,
the general system of philosophy which he adopted
would remove all doubt.  A partisan of the physio.
logical theory of the sensual school, man was for him
a collection of nervous organs; he had no soul, or,
what comes to the same thing, his soul was nothing
but a result of organized matter; there could, of
course, be no other self-preservation, no other end of
human actions, than to maintain the functions of life
in a sound condition; no other duty than to follow
the rules which tend to this end. Volney was not a
man to be frightened at this consequence of his prin.
ciple; he goes to it without flinching, and proclaims
it without circumlocution. The applications are
equally simple and clear. Good and evil, right and
wrong, are easily determined. Moral good, right, is




220          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
nothing but what tends to preserve and to improve
the physical organization; moral evil, wrong, is nothing but what tends to destroy or impair it. The
greatest good is life, the greatest evil is death; no.
thing is superior to physical enjoyment, nothing
worse than bodily pain: the supreme good is health.
Vice and virtue are and can be only the voluntary
habit of actions conformed or contrary to the law of
taking care of one's organization.  Particular virtues and vices in the individual, domestic, and social
relations are determined by the same criterion.
In the particular application of his principles, Volney Cannot be charged with doing violence to received moral opinions. Those things that he lays
down as virtues are truly virtues: temperance, cleanliness; chastity, industry, economy, contentment; honesty, veracity, kindness: and the contrary of these
he rightly denominates vices. His error is in the
principle and motive on which he grounds their nature and obligation, namely, their adaptation to pro.
mote physical health and long life. Considered as
prudential maxims subordinated to a higher principle,
his practical ethics would be faultless as far as it
goes; but as actually exhibited by him, it is not only
incomplete, for there are obligatory practical maxims which cannot be analyzed into maxims of wellbeing, but also, as before said, corrupt in principle;
for the ground of our obligation to honesty or veracity, for instance, is not their tendency to promote
tranquillity, and thereby good health; they are obligatory apart from these consequences, and in special
cases may entail opposite consequences, and yet be
equally obligatory. In short, in common with all the
selfish systems, by erecting a partial and contingent
criterion into a universal maxim, and confounding
that maxim with the principle of virtue, he destroys
the essence itself of all virtue.




GALL.                  221
GALL, AZAIS, AND OTHER WRITERS.
The only other names of any note in the sen.
sual school of the present century in France, are
those of Garat, Lancelin, Broussais, Gall, and Azaes.
The writings of the first two offe-r nothing special.
BROUSSAIS was a celebrated physiologist, and coatended strongly for the sensual and materialist system
against the new spiritual views that had then become
predominant.  His work on Irritability and Madness
was published in 1828.
The celebrated Dr. GALL (born in 1758, died in
1828), though more properly ranked with the sensu.
al school than with any other, was yet the. founder
of a system entirely his own.  He holds, indeed, the
fundamental principle of sensualism, that all our faculties are derived from  the organization; and he
agreed with the physiologists of that school in regard.
ing the brain as the productive source of all our faculties. But he did not consider the brain as a single
organ, but an assemblage of many distinct and special organs, whose locality and functions he minutely
described; and from the relative size, activity, and
mutual influence of which he explained all the intellectual and moral phenomena of man. This system
was subsequently greatly developed, modified, and
extended by Spurzheim, and has been, and continues
still to be, zealously propagated under the name of
phrenology.  It is not necessarily a scheme of ma.
terialism; for, though it may be held in the materialist
sense that all the phenomena of the mind are produced by these cerebral organs, it may also be held in
the spiritualist sense that these organs are only the
conditions and instruments of the manifestation of a
spiritual principle distinct from them, though connect.




222          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
ed with them. As to the rest, it is not worth while
here to go into an examination of the exclusive pretensions made in behalf of the system of phrenology.
Its true things are no new things, and its new things
(so far as they are of any importance to the proof
of the system) have not yet been sufficiently proved
to be true things.
AZAIS was born in 1766. He belongs in strictness to no school. His doctrine is peculiar to himself. He is here put in connexion with the sensual
school, from the materialist character of his system
in a moral point of view. He unfolded his system
in lectures, delivered during the period of the Empire to crowded and brilliant audiences with great
distinction and success; he also gave his views to
the public through the press. His system is a peculiar physical explanation of the universe.  Matter,
the substance of being, is the passive subject of a
universal action or movement impressed by God.
This universal action has but one sole mode, expansion; every material substance is pervaded throughout by a force which tends to indefinite enlargement
of the space it fills, and thereby to dissolution.
But this dissolution of each body is prevented by
the same indefinite force of expansion acting in all
other bodies in the universe. Hence a force of re.
pression or conservation, which results from the very
aw of universal expansion.  By this force the heavenly bodies, their relations and motions, the earth,
its various bodies and their properties, are explained;
so, also, all organized beings, with their various phe.
nomena. Man is the most perfect of organized be.
ings. The moral and social world are also explain.
ed by this tendency to universal expansion, and the
repression which results from the mutual action of




DE MAISTRE.               223
all individuals upon each. It is needless to follow
the details of these explanations. It is enough to
state its conclusions in regard to the mind: the soul
is a composite whole; the mind is a body, ideas are
corpuscles; thought has extension, form, etc.
THEOLOGICAL SPIRITUALISM.
IT has been already stated that the reaction against
sensualism was strengthened by the influence of
many writers in the interest of religion and the
Church. The most remarkable of these date from
about the period of the restoration. While RoyerCollard and his disciples combated sensualism, and
endeavoured to establish a contrary system by the
philosophical observation of consciousness, the writers of the theological school confined all speculation
within the limits of theological authority, and con.
sidered its only function to be that of explaining and
justifying the doctrines received on the ground of
Catholic faith. Negatively they bitterly opposed the
doctrines of the sensual school, and wielded against
them with great force the weapons of dialectics, invective, and ridicule.
Among these writers may be named CHATEAUBRIAND. Though a writer of imagination and sentiment rather than a philosopher, yet his aversion to
sensualism, and the spiritual and religious tone of his
works, were in harmony with the more decidedly
philosophical writers of the theological school.
DE MAISTRE.
COUNT JOSEPH DE MAISTRE (born in 1753 in Piedmont, died at Turin in 1821) was a statesman and
diplonmatist, as well as a man of letters and a philosopher. He was an enemy to liberal principles in religion, politics, and philosophy, and an advocate of




224          BIODEruN PHILOSOPHY.
the principles typified by the Holy Alliance. i-is
principal works are On the Pope (1819), and Soirees
at St. Petersburgh (1821). The latter work, which,
by its popular form, and its talent and wit, exerted
great influence, touches upon almost all the great
problems of metaphysics, running through a series
of closely connected ideas with the apparent easo and
grace of unstudied conversation.
+ The principal topic of his writings, in a philosophi.
cal view, is the temporal government of Providence.
He endeavours to explain and justify the spectacle
of the world so full of calamities and miseries foir the
good. He maintains, 1. That the good and the bad
are both subject to suffering here below, but the good
less than the bad; 2. That the good man suffers not
as good, but as a man; 3. That man suffers in con.
sequence of original sin; 4. That there are two means
of deliverance, prayer on our own part, and intercession and merits of the good availing for us.
The foundation of political authority in the will of
God; the divine right of legitimate sovereigns; pass.
ive obedience; the authority of the Church in matters
of faith, the supremacy of the pope, and the superi.
ority of ecclesiastical over the temporal authority:
these are some of the religious and political principles of De Maistre. The practical tendencies of his
system are to asceticism and mysticism.
LA MENNAIS.
To the same school, as indirectly an opponent of
the sensual philosophy in behalf of the Church, belongs
the celebrated Abbe de LA MENNAIS, who was born
in 1780. In his earlier writings he was an ultra
monarchist, and supporter of the principles of abso.
lutism. In religion he was in favour of a state establishment, though he held the doctrines called in




LA MENNAIS.               225
France ultramontane, denying the freedom of the Gallican Church, and asserting fbr the pope absolute au.
thority in spiritual matters, and insisting upon the
dutiful submission of all governments to God in the
Church. Subsequently he abandoned the political
views he had at first put forth, and became a power.
ful advocate of liberal principles.  Bold and vigorous
in his tone of thinking, brilliant and eloquent in his
style, his various writings have attracted great attention, and some of them have exerted great influence,
though for the most part the ideas which they pre.
sent are not within the scope of this work.  He engages in philosophical investigations only for the sake
of' establishing a criterion of truth independent of
reason.
The principal points in his book on Indifference
in Religion are: his skepticism in regard to the in.
tellectual faculties; authority as the sole principle of
belief; and the applications of this principle.
1. He denies the possibility of philosophical knowledge.  The senses are deceptive; sentiment is equal.
ly uncertain; and reason, operating only upon data
given in sensation and sentiment, is more to be dis.
trusted than either.  All the contradictions, conflicts,
extravagances, and impieties which the history of
philosophy exhibits, show that, if man is to have truth
and certainty only on philosophical grounds, man
must forever remain in doubt.
2. There is no resting-place for the human mind
but in the principle of authority.  Authority is the
sole rule of judgment.  In defect of this, our judgments must be erroneous, or at least doubtful.  Authority, with La Mennais, means the testimony of a
sufficient number of competent witnesses. We are
to confide in those who know.
3. La Mennais applies his principle chiefly to the
I, —1 8




226          MI0DERN PHILOSOPHY.
religious history of' man.  There have been three
forms of religions in the world: the Patriarchal, the
Mosaic, and the Christian-all derived by revelation
friom God.  These three are substantially one.. All
forms of paganism and false religions are corruptions
of revealed religion.  His views imply the possibility,
if not the likelihood, of still other developments of re
ligion in the progress of humanity.
It is scarcely necessary to offer any critical re.
marks on this system. Unless the author allows in
man some ground of truth, some faculty of cogni.
tion, his scientific skepticism becomes absolute skep.
ticism.  How is man to know what is a sufficient
number of competent witnesses to give to testimony
the force of authority?  How did the witnesses de.
rive the truth?  From others, and they again from
others, till we come to God?  Had the first witness.
es any certain faculty of recognising the revelation
not given to us? The denial of' all trustworthiness
to sensation, sentiment, and reason, would make it
impossible to answer these questions so as to avoid
universal skepticism.
BONALD.
OF a more philosophical cast of mind is the Viscount DE BONALD, although he has philosophized only
on religious and political subjects. He was born in
1762.  In 1791 he belonged to the liberal constitutional party, and was president of the departmental
administration of Aveyron.  Subsequently he at.
tached himself to the legitimatist party.  In 1815
he was a member of the chamber of deputies; afterward a peer of France, and under Villele a censor
of the press. As a writer he is artificial and obscure
in his style, yet sometimes expressing himself with
simplicity arid eloquence.




BONALD.                 227
Bonald rejects consciousness as the instrument of
philosophical investigation.  Hee takes his starting.
point from a primitive language given to man at creation.  This fact he seeks to establish by historical
and by metaphysical considerations.  He considers
it a sufficient demonstration of the impossibility of
the invention of language, and, consequently, the ne.
cessity of its being a primitive revelation, that a sys.
tem of' words could never be invented without thought,
and that thought would be impossible without words.
From this fact Bonald deduces a demonstration of
the existence of an intelligent first cause; but beyond this he has made but little use of his principle
in explaining the human faculties and their relations
to language.  In his principal work, Inquiries concerning the Primary Objects of Moral Knowledge, he
has discussed a great variety of questions, and argued with great force and eloquence against macerialism and its moral consequences, but the arguments
he employs have no dependance whatever upon the
fact which he set out with proclaiming as the sole
principle of science.
The object and result of Bonald's speculations is
to establish the Church as the highest authority in
matters of truth.  Everything not conformed to the
Bible, as interpreted by the Church, is error and de.
lusion, whether in religion, metaphysics, morals, or
politics.
To the same class of writers belong also Baron
D'EcKsTEZIN (born in Denmark in 1785, settled in
France since 1815), and BALLANCHE (born In 1776).
Their writings, however, offer nothing for special
remark. They write in a pure and elevated, but, at
the same time, somewhat mystical religious spirit.
In common with the writers already noticed, they




228          MODFRN PHILOSOPIHY.
maintain the insufficiency of philosophy, and uphold
the principle of catholic authority.
RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGISTS, OR ECLECTIC SCHOOL.
WE come now to trace the more strictly philo.
sophical movement in opposition to sensualism.  We
begin with the physiologists Berard and Virey.
BERARD.
BERARD was born in 1793, and died in 1828.
Contrary to Cabanis and Bichat, he maintained the
existence of an immaterial principle distinct from the
organization in and through which it manifests it.
self.  This principle is a force or power which actuates all organized nature, vegetable and animal. Be.
rard distinguishes between the vital principle as man.
ifested in the vegetable and merely animal world and
in man; maintaining, however, the existence in both
cases of an immaterial principle. In man, the bodily
organs, so far from.being the efficient or productive
source of our faculties, are only its external instru.
ments. It is not the brain that thinks, nor the stom.
ach that digests; it is the intellectual power that thinks
in the brain, it is the digestive power that digests in
the stomach. The brain and the stomach are the
conditions of the manifestation of these forces, the
theatre on which they act. So far is life from result.
ing from the organization, that the organization itself
is formed, sustained, unfolded, and preserved by the
concurrence of a vital principle totally different firom
matter.  Organized matter and these immaterial
forces are intimately united, and exert a mutual influence in manifold ways. In man the vital and the
intellectual power are both united to the physical organization, and the relations become still more com.
plicated. The facts are observable: the manner of




VIREY.                  229
their union and action is inexplicable.  Nevertheless,
nothing can render the facts of observation and consciousness admissible, nothing can satisfy reason, but
the supposition of these spiritual forces as the principle of the phenomena of life: while, on the other
hand, the theory of materialism  is burdened with
great difficulties.  Berard shows, fiom various facts,
that it is not so certain as has been generally held
that the brain is even the sole condition of sensation.
" The soul," he concludes, therefore, " is one, indivisible, immaterial. United to a body, it can come
into this union only as a spirit, and not according to
the law which unites body to body. It is not in jux.
taposition with the organs, it is not interposed; it
is simply present to them; it there feels; it imparts
and receives activity. It is linked in the exercise of
its activity to certain physiological and vital condi.
tions, without which it could not display its faculties;
but it does not owe its faculties to themn: it is a force, a
power, working in harmony with other forces, which,
likewise united to the organism, have yet their special
functions and properties."-Doctrine of the Relations
of the Physical and Moral in Man, Paris, 1823.
VIREY.
VIREY, fn his treatise on Vital Power (1823), takes
the same general ground.  The active power which
is displayed in the universe is not to be conceived as
a property or as a result of matter; it is a principle
by itself, pervading, informing, and actuating matter,
and producing all the phenomena of nature.  Man
is not a compound of material particles, whose or.
ganic combination engenders all the vital functions,
but a simple force which penetrates, animates, and
disposes the organism, and there produces the pheII.



230          MODERN PHILOSOPRY.
nomena of life.  God is the creator of all these pow.
elrs.
We pass now to the psychological and metaphys.
ical writers.
KERATRY.
KERATiRY (born in 1769) published an ontological
work under the title of Mloral and PPhysiological In.
ductions.  In the beginning there existed notihing but
the Absolute Being.  He was intelligent; willed to
clreate;'penetrated the infinite void of non.being, the
eternal ground of the possibility of matter and spirit 
gave reality to them, in the innumerable different
forms of combination with which the universe is filled.  In our world there resulted three great species
of beings, mineral, vegetable, and animal —mixed beings, which all exhibit the alliances of spirit (or force)
and matter in different degrees.  These beings sub.
sist for a time, then die; then force and matter, before united, are dissolved, not, however, to return to
nonentity, but to go into new combinations. Of the
soul of man, in particular, such is the constitution,
that at the beginning it is united to the, body only
that it may afterward be set free, and reappear in
different relations, where, doubtless, it will have other organs, more delicate and more perfect than those
it possesses here below.  Such is his theory of the
creation by God of the spiritual and material world;
their terrestrial union; their restoration in another
world.
These ideas are developed by analogies and de.
scriptions of a poetical cast, and by physiological and
physical considerations.
His moral principles partake of a refined selfish.
ness, though elevated by their alliance with his belief
in God, in immortality, and a future life.  He makes




MASSIAS.                 231
moral obligation rest on the generous and benevolent
satisfaction of virtue, the sentiment of well-being that
accompanies it. He makes happiness exclusively
the chief end of man, and therefore the principle of
virtue, forgetting that man was made for goodness;
and, if made for happiness, it is because happiness is
the consequence, the token, and reward of goodness.
He thus resolves virtue into a certain kind of utility,
though widely different from the utility of Volney
and the grosser utilitarians. In a similar way he
explains the beautiful into a form of the useful.,IASSIAS.
MAssxAs  (born in 1764) published a number of
philosophical works, in which he not only opposed
the principles of materialism, but attempted to establish the foundations of philosophy more securely than
in his view had before been done. His disquisitions
relate to nearly all branches of philosophy.  His Re.
lations of IYan to Nature and of Nature to Man, and
his Problemn of the Mind, are his principal works.
His views do not appear to contain anything peculiar, except the pretension of having discovered a firm
basis for philosophy in a fact overlooked, in his opin.
ion, by other philosophers.  To us it seems to be an
attempt, so far as it amounts to anything, analogous
to those of Malebranche and Cudworth, to imagine
an explanation of the inexplicable fact of the mutual
influence of mind and matter in the human organism.
We will, however, give the author's own words: "It
is impossible to conceive any modification of our own
being without an organic action; an intelligent action,
which causes or which perceives it; and a universal
action, which gives law both to the organization and
the intelligence, and maintains them in their form
and character.




232          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
"If it is undeniably true that nature acts continually upon our organization, exciting and regulating
its operations, and if, nevertheless, this intervention
has hitherto been made no account of, but man has
always been considered apart from this primitive ele.
rnent of his being, it follows that no philosophy has
yet been able to solve the problem of the mind, and
lay the sure foundations of human knowledge....
This relation, this third element of the constitution
of man, of which no account has hitherto been made,
forms a TERNARY UNITY, having in itself the cause
of its action, and, consequently, the means and the
effect; and out of itself, consequently, its object, its
stimulus, and its regulative principle, which, in per.
ception, it associates with its action.... e Man is thus
a finite creature, dependant in his organization and
his thinking upon the universe, and the laws which
govern the universe, to the action of which he asso.
ciates himself by perception and intelligence, and, in
respect to his free-will, subject to the law of duty.
which he can obey or disobey."
DEGERANDOo
DEGERxANDO, in his earlier works, was a foloxlower oi
Condillac, but subsequently abandoned his system,
and attached himself to the spirit of the philosophy
introduced by Royer-Collard and Cousin.  He has
not written any systematic works; but his book on
Moral Improvement, and his Comparative History
of Philosophy, are pervaded by an elevated and spiritual tone of thinking, and have been much esteemed.
LAROBI [GUIERE.
LAROMIGUIERE has been mentioned as having given
a special direction to the philosophical movement in
France.  He was a writer of eminent abilities, im.




LAROMIGUIERE.               233
bued with the true philosophical spirit; simple, lively,
and acute in thinking; clear, easy, and graceful in
style; expressing his iJeas with equal elegance and
precision.  Hie was generally ranked among the disciples of Condillac; yet he introduced many impor.
tant modifications, combating the sensual system on
some points, and abandoning it on others. In regard
to the faculties of the human mind, he does not follow
Condillac either in the order of their development, or
the number and systematic relation of them.  But
one of the most important points in which he departs
from his master is in respect to the explanation which
he gives of the principle of the faculties.  Instead of
seeking for the germe of them in the sensitive passivity, in sensation, he finds it in an opposite element,
in the activity.  Condillac supposes the soul alto.
gether passive; Laromiguiere believes it to be like.
wise active, and makes this activity an absolutely
essential condition of its development.
So, also, he differs materially from Condillac on
the question of the origin of ideas.  With Condillac
they are all derived from sensation alone as their
origin and cause. Laromiguiere distinguishes be.
tween the origin and matter of ideas, and the instru.
ment and means of their production; between the
matter of ideas or perceptions, and the form of them:
the former he admits to be derived from sensation,
but the latter is given by the intellectual activity.
To experience a sensation is not in itself to think:
this is a function of the intellectual activity.'This
activity is therefore admitted as an original attribute
of the mind, and a co-ordinate source of knowledge.
This view is contrary to the system of Condillac, and
comes much nearer to the doctrine of Reid and Kant.
As to the rest, his analysis and classification of
fhe faculties of the hunkan mind is liable to many ob.




234          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
jections, which were brought forward by De Biran
and others.  His lectures, however, exerted a very
salutary influence in weakening the exclusive control of sensualism; and were better adapted to this
end, from the fact of their coming from a disciple of'
Condillac, and in the form they took, than if they had
been in open, thorough, and consistent opposition.
DE BIRAN.
MAINE DE BIRAN (born in 1766, died in 1824) was
originally a disciple of Cabanis and De Tracy, but
afterward abandoned their system, and, in his Examination of the Lectures of Laromiguiere, main.
tained that the soul is a cause, a power, an active
principle: a view which he carries out to the exclu.
sion of almost every other.  He afterward maintain.
ed a modified form of the system of Leibnitz: an absolute spiritualism, which explains God, man, and the
world, their essence and relations, by active princi.
ples and their activities.  He adopted the monadism
of Leibnitz, all but its doctrines of pre-established
harmony and fatal predestination. He sets out from
the observation of consciousness.  This reveals the
soul as an active force: active in all the modifications of the mind. External objects are only for.
ces; consciousness recognises them only as causes
of certain impressions; their different properties are
different modes of their action. Minerals, vegetables,
animals, all bodies, all beings in nature, are only forces or combinations of forces: active substances and
their various actions.  All forces are not, like the
soul, intelligent and free, but all are more or less
endowed with activity; even resistance, that most
passive quality of matter, as it is commonly considered, is but a mode of activity. There are, therefore, not two sorts of substances in the vorld, forces




DE BIRAN.                235
and particles, but only forces; extension, fbrm, etc.,
are only the impression produced by the active ele
ments, whose property or mode of action is resist.
ance. Matter is, accordingly, the continuity and coexistence of resisting forces producing a certain ima.
pression.  Matter, therefore, is not denied any more
than spirit; only their substantial difference is deni.
ed; both are explained in the same way; both are
forces.
To explain the relations which exist between the
soul and the body on these principles, becomes, in
the view of De Biran, an easy thing. It is no longer necessary to inquire how a simple and active substance, and an inert and compound substance, can act
and react upon each other; no need of imagining a
mediator, half spirit, half matter: a contradictory notion, and useless besides; no need of the hypothesis
of occasional causes or of pre-established harmony,
which suppress the fact instead of explaining it; and,
finally, no need of taking refuge in our ignorance,
and bowing down to a mystery.  We have only to
reflect that the relations of body and soul are only
relations of forces, of action and reaction. These
forces, according to their peculiar degrees and modes
of activity, appear now active, now passive; they are
some of them the body, and some of them the mind.
The Creation is a composition of forces; the Cre.
ator is himself a force, an active principle; infinite,
eternal, all-pervading; possessed of the plenitude of
intelligence, goodness, bliss, will, and power.-Such
is De Biran's doctrine of immaterialism.  We shall
make no other remark upon it than that the ques.
tion of adopting or rejecting it turns entirely upon
the question whether, in the analysis of consciousness, we find: 1. Sensations or impressions; 2. The
reference of them to a cause or force; 3. An inert




236          MODERN PtHILOSOPHY.
passive substance, in which the force resides, or witi
which it is connected.-The common sense of man
kind believes the latter.
ROYE- COLLARDn.
PETEFr PAUL ROYER-COLLARD was born abSut th%
year 1768.  Before the revolution he was an advo.
cate in the Parliament of Paris. During the revolu.
tion he was for a long time member of the Communal Council and of the Council of Five Hundred
His moderation, and his hatred of anarchy and blood
shed, subjected him to persecution during the Reigr,
of Terror, and he withdrew into retirement, and de.
voted himself to philosophical studies.  In 1811 he,
became dean of the Faculty of Letters at the Nor.
mal School, where he lectured with great applause.
Subsequently, in 1814, he returned to public life;
was president of the Council of Public Instruction,
and when removed from that office on account of his
liberal principles, was chosen a member of the Chain.
ber of Deputies, of which body he became president.
He was at the head of the political party of the Doe.
trinaires, who opposed the movements both of the ul.
tra-liberal and of the royalist parties.
This celebrated man is entitled to an eminent place
in the history of philosophy, less as a philosopher
than as a professor. IHe was not the founder of a
new system, but the eloquent and able expounder of
the philosophy of Reid, and the successful opponent
of the sensual system, which, up to the time when he
began his lectures in 1811, was the ruling philosophy.
The task he undertook required eminent personal
qualities, and they were combined in him: a mind
singularly vigorous, profound, and clear; ease, pre.
cision, and force of language; richness of imagina.
tion, and great eloquence. The influence he exerted




ROYERI-COLLARD.             237
was prodigious; it wrought a complete revolution in
the philosophy of France. Of his philosophical la.
bours, nothing exists in print but fragments of his
lectures, published with explanations by his pupil
Jouffroy, in connexion with the works of Reid.
In opposing the doctrines of Condillac and the
sensual school, Royer.Collard rested chiefly upon the
doctrines of Reid, whose system he expounded and
enforced with great ability, though he has modified
it in some respects by the manner and form of his
applications, developed it more fully on some points,
and added some special analyses of his own, particu.
larly in regard to the theory of perception.
Directing against Condillac the objections urged by
Reid against the doctrine of Locke, Berkeley, and
FHume, he shows that, by the system which resolves
all mental phenomena into sensation, we can have no
knowledge of the existence of an external world.
All we know are certain states of our own mind in
sensation: we call them properties of an external
substance, of matter existing out of the mind. But
how do we know that there is any such substance
really existing? By the sensual system we cannot
know it; for it is in itself not a matter of sensation.
We must even pronounce that it does not exist; for
sensation is all the existence there is for us.
Royer.Collard then explains his view of the manner in which we attain the knowledge of the existence
of the external world.  It is in virtue of a fact of
consciousness which he calls natural induction.  It
is not a reflective process, like scientific induction,
but a spontaneous and necessary action of the mind
which leads us to the idea and irresistible belief in
the reality of the world without us. This fact is
much insisted on, described and analyzed with great
precision. It is at bottom, however, substantially




238          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
one of Reid's principles of common sense, or Stew.
art's fundamental laws of human belief; and where
Royer-Collard has gone farther than Reid in minute
analysis, he has sometimes rendered himself liable to
objections.
In like manner, he shows that the ideas of substance,
cause, time, space, etc., cannot be explained on the
principles of Condillac. They are not matters of
sensation: they can in no way be resolved into any
modification of it. So, likewise, of moral ideas.
Royer.Collard rendered important service to the
progress of philosophy in France by his clear, ori.
ginal, and striking expositions of the method of observation and experiment in application to philosophy.
But the chief' monuments of the powerful influence
he exerted are his disciples and successors.  He
founded a school; he gathered around him a body
of ardent and elevated young minds. To them he
imparted his zeal, his spirit, his method, and his principles. In their labours we recognise the heart and
mind of their master; while, at the same time, in
conformity with the spirit which he inculcated, they
have not rested in mere repetition of his particular
views: if in some respects they have more fully developed and extended the doctrines of Royer-Collard,
in others they have taken the course of free and in-lependent inquiry. Among his disciples, the most'elebrated is Cousin.
COUSIN.
VICTOR COUSIN, born in 1792, was educated at the
Aormal School, where he became an instructer in
3812. In 1815 he succeeded Royer.Collard as pro.
fessor of philosophy in the Faculty of Letters in the
University of Paris. He fell under the displeasure
of government in 1820, and his lectures in the Uni



COUSIN.                239?ersity were suspended; subsequently the Normal
School was suppressed. On the fall of the administration of Villele in 1827, he was restored to his
chair, and commenced a course of lectures, which
was continued with brilliant success till 1830.  He
was then made member of the Council of Public
Instruction, and principal of the Normal School,
which he reorganized.  In 1831 he went to Germany, under a special commission from government to
examine the state of public instruction in that coun.
try. His reports have excited much attention. In
1832 he was made a peer of France, and in 1840
minister of public instruction.
In philosophy, Cousin acknowledges his obligations
to Laromiguiere and to De Biran, by whom his mind
was put in a direction contrary to the prevailing sensualism; but more especially to Royer-Collard, whose
pupil and disciple he was before he became his sue.
cessor.  In his earliest instructions he confined himself chiefly to expounding the ideas of his master.
He soon, however, extended his researches into every
sphere of philosophical inquiry, particularly the critical history of philosophy, both ancient and modern;
until at length he formed a system of his own, which
has received the denomination of Eclecticism.
This system has not been developed at large in
any one complete and systematic work; but all the
leading principles of it, with their systematic connex.
ion and their applications, may be gathered from the
author's various writings. A brief summary will be
attempted.
Exposition.
The principal points to which everything in this
system may be referred, are: its method; application of its method to psychology; passage from psy



Zz1O         MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
chology to ontology; general views on the history of
philosophy.
I. Iethod.
There is nothing peculiar in the principle of his
method; it is the method of induction, which has
been everywhere proclaimed in the philosophy of the
eighteenth century.  It is the same method applied
to the phenomena of the mind, as in physical science
is applied to the phenomena of nature. Philosophy,
equally with physics, is a science of facts. In physics these facts are given by the senses, in philosophy
by consciousness. In both cases the application of
the method of induction is substantially the same,
and governed by the same general rules. In the
first place, a careful and complete observation of
facts; in the second place, experiment and reasoning
applied to the facts observed. In philosophy no less
than in physics, mere observation of facts is barren,
and leads to no results.  It is not sufficient merely
to listen to nature, we must interrogate it; it is not
enough to observe, we must experiment. In philos.
ophy, reflection is the instrument of experiment, and
is analogous to the artificial instruments and repro.
ductive processes of physical experiment. —So much
for method in general.
In regard to method in particular, Cousin makes
psychology the basis and starting.point of all true
philosophy. Psychology is the observation and classification of the phenomena of the mind.  These phenomena must be accurately observed; none omitted;
none supposed.  They must be observed in simplici.
ty and good faith.  If neglected, or if observed with
any systematic bias, psychology, and with it all philosophy, are corrupted at the source: we fall inevi.
tably into hypotheses.




couSIn.                241
The true method was proclaimed by Descartes,
by Locke and his followers; but it was almost immediately corrupted in its application by systematic
views. They looked only for such facts as suited their
preconceived conceptions; hence facts were partially observed and distorted; observation, experiment,
and induction were vitiated from the beginning.
They fell into hypothesis.
On the other hand, the new German philosophy
has repudiated the psychological method. It begins
with the absolute, and comes to psychology by metaphysics and physics combined. Now, even although
ontology contain the root of psychology, it can never
be known until verified by psychological observation;
and to set out from it is to enter upon the hazardous
path of hypothesis. It is to make philosophy, not an
inductive, but a constructive science. Building thus
the structure from the top downward, we are liable
to substitute for facts arbitrary abstractions and the
caprices of the imagination. The new German phi.
losophy has committed a serious error in point of
method. The psychological method is the true meth.
od; psychology is not the whole of philosophy, but
it is its foundation.
II. Application of Method to Psychology.
Cousin divides all the phenomena of consciousness
into three classes, referable to three great elementary faculties, which in their combinations comprise
and explain all others. These faculties are sensibility, activity, and reason. These three faculties
enter simultaneously into exercise, and are blended
together in the unity of consciousness: but, however
inseparable they may be in the unity of the intellect.
ual life, they are yet perfectly distinct.
Sensible and rational facts have one characteristio
rr1 a-~




242          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
in common, which distinguishes them from voluntary
facts: they are both independent of the control of the
will; that is to say, we do not impute sensations and
judgments of reason to ourselves as the products of
our own voluntary activity. When the conditions
of a sensation or a rational idea are accomplished,
our will cannot prevent the sensibility or the reason
from entering into exercise. The sensation or the
idea become facts of consciousness necessarily, in
spite of the will.
The activity alone is marked with the characteristics of personality and responsibility. The will is
the constituent element of personality.  It is only in
the activity of the will that we are able to recognise
ourselves, to say me; yet it is only by distinguishing
ourselves from our sensations and their objects that
we can have self-consciousness; and, as we cannot
perceive ourselves, and distinguish ourselves from
our sensations, except by a faculty of perception in
general, it follows that the exercise of reason is con.
temporaneous with the exercise of personal activity
and with sensible impressions. The essential ele.
ment of cognition is reason; and consciousness,
though composed of three integrant and inseparable
elements, has its most immediate foundation in rea.
son, without which there would be no possible knowl.
edge, and, consequently, no consciousness. Reason
is thus intimately connected with personality and
with sensibility, but it is neither the one nor the other.  Sensibility is the external condition of consciousness; the will is its centre, and reason is its light.
Of the SENSIBILITY a more particular psychological
analysis is not necessary here, as there is nothing
in the system of Cousin which particularly distin.
guishes it from other systems in relation to the or.




COUSIN.                 243
gans of sensation, and the classification of their vari.
ous affections with respect to the corresponding qual.
ities of external objects.
The WILL is the element of personality and causality. Our notion of cause is first apprehended by
the reason in the consciousness of our own personal
activity. The movements of the sensibility, desires,
passions, etc., so far from constituting the will, are
entirely distinct from it, and may stand in direct op.
position to it. The will is in its essence a cause,
a power, a force. The internal causal energy of
the will must not be confounded with any of its
instuments or external manifestations.  We do not
find the primitive notion of cause in the action of
the will on our nervous and muscular organization,
and much less in the force communicated by the
muscles to external objects.  A perfect paralysis of
the muscles could not prevent the internal act of the
will. The primitive notion of personal cause, to
wit, our own will, becomes the type and condition of
the notion of cause in general, and of external imrnpersonal causes.
There is a twofold activity of the will, spontane.
ous and reflective. The spontaneous is the primitive
form, the reflective is the ulterior.  The fact of
the former is necessarily presupposed in the latter;
we cannot reflect upon what has not existed in a
spontaneous form.  These two forms of activity are
distinguished by Cousin by the terms spontaneous
and voluntary, or spontaneity and will, appropriating
the terms voluntary, and activity, and will to the re.
flective form of activity.
All personal acts, whether spontaneous or voluntary, have their cause in an active power; the activ
ity is itself the only cause of all particular actions;




244          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
in this consists the essence of freedom. The very
notion of liberty is that of a power which acts by an
energy within itself-a power of self.determination.
Liberty is not self-determination in act, but self-determination in power, which in act, in volitions, determines itself in this or that particular form.
In the REASON or intelligence analysis discovers
three integrant elements or laws of thought, which
both constitute it and govern its activity: 1. The
idea of infinite (expressed likewise indifferently by
the terms unity, substance, absolute cause, the absolute, etc.); 2. The idea of the finite (expressed likewise by the terms plurality, phenomenon, relative
cause, the conditioned, etc.); 3. The idea of the're.
lation between the infinite and finite: a relation not
simply of inseparable coexistence, but of cause and
effect.
These three elements are given inseparably in the
primitive synthesis of thought.  They constitute the
unity of reason, which is manifested in this triple ac.
tion.
Reason, which manifests itself in these three ideas,
is not individual or personal.  It is not a part of our
free activity. Reason is constituted and governed
by these absolute and necessary conceptions.  It is
therefore absolute in its essence; it is one with the
eternal and divine reason; it is relatively human
only as manifesting itself in the phenomena of human consciousness. The necessary convictions of
reason which we find in our consciousness cannot be
conceived by us as merely relative to our minds or
to the minds of our fellow-men. They appear as
universal truths, truths for all intelligences, truths to
the divine intelligence equally as to us, but no more
than to us; that is, they are truths in themselves,




COUSIN.                 245
truths absolute; truths which we can neither make,
deny, nor modify by an act of our own will; which
no will in the universe can make, deny, or modify.
It is only when, by a voluntary act of reflection, we
fall back upon them as phenomena of our own con.
sciousness, and they thus become blended with what
is individual and personal in our consciousness, that
they have any appearance of being subjective and
relative to our personality.  In itself and its action,
reason is essentially impersonal.
All the absolute laws of thought or regulative
principles of reason may be reduced to two: the
law of causality, that every phenomenon supposes
a cause; and the law of substance, that every quality supposes a substance.  These two are the fundamental principles, of which all others are derivatives.
They are given to us contemporaneously in the unity
of consciousness; or, if they are to be distinguished,
the law of substance is logically the first, and that
of causality the second; the idea of substance, that
is, being necessarily implied, as that without which
there could be no idea of cause: but the law of cau.
sality is chronologically the first, and that of substance
the second; the idea of cause, that is, must be first
in the order of acquisition as the condition of the
idea of substance.
In reducing the laws of thought fundamentally to
these two, Cousin differs from preceding philosophers.
Plato attempted no enumeration and classification.
Aristotle gave a complete enumeration of them, but
he did not reduce them to their fundamental elements;
and, besides, his arrangement of them is arbitrary,
and does not correspond to the development of in.
telligence.  The Cartesians recognised necessary
truths, but made no attempt at a complete and pre.
cise enumeration of them.  The sensual school of




246          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
the eighteenth century recognised none, and, of
course, gave no classification.  The Scottish school
restored them to honour, but gave no complete ac.
count of them. Kant renewed the attempt of Aristotle, and was the first among the moderns who at.
tempted a complete list of the laws of thought; but
he is arbitrary in his classification, and his list is ca.
pable of reduction.
The development of reason is twofold. The constituent elements of reason are all found in consciousness. But how are they found? In the developed
state of human intelligence we find them by reflec.
tion.  The finite supposes the infinite, the infinite
the finite: they are reciprocally correlatives.  But
these elements were not originally given in a reflective process of intelligence, in which an act of attention, of will, is blended with reason. Reflection
only adds itself to what already was in the mind: it
falls back upon, analyzes, distinguishes, throws clearer light upon, but does not create the elements to
which it applies itself.  Reflection therefore pre.
supposes an anterior operation of the intelligence.
As this operation is not of reflection, it does not im.
ply the exercise of the voluntary activity or will. It
is therefore an instinctive development of thought;
and as intelligence does not begin by negation, this
primitive operation is an instinctive perception of
truth, an immediate intuition and a pure affirmation.
There is thus a twofold development of reason:
the first primitive, unreflective, instinctive; the seec
ond ulterior, reflective, voluntary.  The first is term.
ed spontaneous reason, spontaneity of reason, or,
briefly, spontaneity; the second reflective reason,
reflection of reason, or, briefly, reflection.




cOUSIN.                 247
III. Passage from Psychology to Ontology.
Ontology is the science of being.  It has to do, not
with mere subjective or phenomenal, but with objective or substantial existence.  Its province is to an.
swer the question: Whether anything exists beyond
the sphere of our own consciousness, and whether we
can have certain knowledge of it? Cousin maintains
that we can proceed legitimately from the facts of
consciousness to the knowledge of our own existence,
of the world, and of God. And this knowledge he
makes to be immediate, positive, and absolute.  The
principle of it he finds in the distinction between
spontaneous and reflective reason.  Reflective reason becomes subjective by the blending of an element
of personality, an act of our own will, with the operation of reason in our consciousness; but reason in
itself is impersonal, and in spontaneous reason there
is nothing subjective: it is a pure apperception and
absolute affirmation. It is immediate cognition, in
which is given to us everything that subsequently, un.
der a logical form and by means of reflection, becomes necessary truth.
The regular development of reason in conscious.
ness takes us legitimately beyond the limits of con.
sciousness, and attains to the knowledge of external
or objective existence. We must either deny the authority of consciousness altogether, or admit its authority without reserve for the facts it attests, even
though they transcend the sphere of our phenomenal
states. The reason, in its development in conscious.
ness, is no less certain and real than the sensibility
and the will; its certainty once admitted, we must
follow it when it conducts us from our own sphere to
things existing out of ourselves.
For example, it is a rational fact attested by con



248          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
sciousness, that, in the view of intelligence, every phe.
nomenon which is presented supposes a cause. It
is a fact, moreover, that this principle of causality is
marked with the characteristics of universality and
necessity. If it be universal and necessary, to limit
it would be to destroy it. Now, in the phenomenon of
sensation, the principle of causality intervenes universally and necessarily, and refers this phenomenon to
a cause; and our consciousness testifying that this
cause is not the personal cause which the will repre.
sents, it follows that the principle of causality con.
ducts us to an impersonal cause, to an external cause:
the aggregate of such causes, generalized as laws,
make up the outward world, nature, or the universe.
Here, then, is objective existence, but existence re.
vealed by a principle which is attested by consciousness. Here is a primary step in ontology, but by
the path of psychology, that is, of internal observation.
In a similar way we are led to the Cause of all
causes, to the substantial Cause, to God; and not only
to a God of Power, but to a God of Justice, a God of
Holiness.
The laws of thought thus being demonstrated to
be absolute, induction can make use of them without
hesitation; and from absolute principles, obtained by
observation, can legitimately conduct us to a point
beyond the immediate sphere of observation itself.
The two fundamental laws of thought, as has been
said, are the law of causality and the law of sub.
stance.
Applied to the phenomena of our own personal
activity, they give us the knowledge of our own sub.
stantial and causal existence.
Applied to our sensations, which we cannot refer
to ourselves as their cause, they give us the external




COUSIN.                 249
world, nature, in the character of the cause of the
phenomena we experience.
Thus we have the knowledge of the me and of the
not.me. These are both given in consciousness as
limited or finite.
But it is equally a fact of observation that reason
does not stop with the finite. As soon as the notion
of the finite is given, we cannot but conceive the infinite. With every notion of finite cause and sub.
stance is immediately and necessarily connected the
notion of infinite cause and substance, that is, of God,
and of the relation of the finite to the infinite.
Such as a psychological fact is the necessary development of reason in consciousness. In this triplicity the unity of consciousness unfolds itself. This
we now recognise by reflection; but this process has
all taken place in the spontaneous reason, and there.
in gave us immediate and positive cognition before
we reflected on it; and it still and always gives
knowledge to such as may, perhaps, never reflect
upon it.  In the spontaneous operation of reason
mankind instinctively distinguish between their
thoughts and volitions, and the substance and subject
of them, calling the latter me; instinctively, also, they
recognise the relation between thoughts and volitions
and themselves, referring the former to the latter, as
attribute to substance, and effect to cause.  They
may never express this in terms; they may never
reflect upon it; or they may not possess the power
of reflection and expression sufficiently to state it;
but none the less does the process take place.  It is
the universal process, the same in all minds, the peas.
ant and the philosopher; only the philosopher re.
flects, analyzes, abstracts, and expresses the process
in logical formulas or with scientific precision.
So, likewise, the spontaneous reason distinguishes
I1.-20




250          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
between sensations and their external causes, and in.
stinctively recognises the outward world as the sub.
stance and cause of all the qualities and phenomena
which the mind observes in sensation.
So, again, the spontaneous reason, immediately that
it recognises the me and the not-me, self and the
world, as finite, instinctively recognises the infinite
cause and substance to which everything finite must
be referred. The finite and the infinite are correlatives in knowledge; the former cannot be regarded
as a matter of positive cognition any more than the
latter. If we deny the latter as an object of positive
cognition, we must likewise deny the former; for
they have both the same title; both are given insep.
arably in the unity of consciousness.
Psychology thus contains and reflects all knowledge, God and nature no less than man.
God is the absolute substance and cause; absolute
intelligence, will, and goodness. The divine intelligence is likewise a triplicity in unity.
Creation is comprehensible and necessary; that is
to say, it is the manifestation of the infinite in the
finite, of unity in variety.  God, as absolute sub.
stance and absolute cause, is the absolute One. But,
as absolute cause, we cannot but conceive that God
should act; it is repugnant to reason to conceive that
the absolute cause should forever remain inactive.
But we cannot conceive the absolute cause to act
otherwise than by determining itself; that is to say,
we cannot conceive the infinite to manifest itself ac.
tively but in the finite, the unity in variety. For God
to act, then, is to create; and creation, at least relatively to our mental constitution, is the necessary
manifestation of the divine activity.
God is not, however, to be confounded with the
creation; nor is God a mere soul of the world. God




COUSIN.                  251
is the cause, the universe is the effect.  While the
universe, both of intelligent and unintelligent beings,
is the necessary manifestation of the creative activity of God, the Creator still remains in his absolute'
divine essence and personality, distinct from, and un.
exhausted by, the creation, and retaining all the superiority of cause to the effect, of infinite cause to the
(necessarily) finite effect. While, therefore, the creation is a manifestation and reflection of God, it is a
limited, and, therefore, necessarily imperfect reflection of him.
Psychology also contains the principles of all true
Physics. Two laws, and their connexion in perpetual reaction, govern and explain the material world.
These two laws are expansion and attraction. Ex.
ternal nature is conceived as an assemblage of forces, governed by these two laws; the various phe.
nomena of nature are results of the reciprocal action
of these laws, and of the multiform determinations
of these forces.
In Morals, Cousin strenuously maintains, as the
only possible condition of a moral law, that freedom
of the will which he had also psychologically demon.
strated as a fact. The moral law can command only
a free will. The Infinite and Eternal Will is reveal.
ed to us in conscience in the supreme law:" Will
what is good;" and the human individual unites with
the Infinite Will only in freely obeying its voice.
Repudiating also the doctrine of the exclusive origin of our ideas in sensation, and demonstrating that
our ideas of right and wrong, and of duty, can never
be found in sensation, nor in consciousness except as
revealed there by reason, he earnestly opposes every
form of the selfish system by which virtue is rcsolvec




252          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
into utility, and self-interest made the ground of oh.
ligation and the motive of action.
He also opposes all moral systems grounded upon
sympathy or benevolence, or any other sentiment,
considered as mere sentiments or emotions.  Mere
emotion is variable and contingent, not in itself the
subject of moral law; and, even if erected into a
principle of obligation, would not suffice to explain
all moral facts, or constitute a system.
The general principles of the morality of self-in.
terest are variable and contingent principles, and, if
erected into an exclusive system, are destructive of
the absolute moral principles revealed in the reason.
The fundamental maxim of the morality of self.
interest in regard to an action to be performed is:
Look only at its consequences relative to personal
happiness.
The most important general maxims resulting
from this are:
Do right, abstain from wrong, from hope or fear
of the rewards and penalties of civil society;
Do right, abstain from wrong, from hope or fear
of divine rewards or punishments;
Do right, abstain from wrong, from fear of blame
from others, and even of remorse, and in order to
gain the pleasure of a good conscience and internal
happiness.
These contingent principles of self-interest oi
prudence have a legitimate sphere of influence in
subordination to the absolute principles of the moral
law, and only in such subordination. But there is
an absolute, essential, and immutable difference between right and wrong. Right and wrong are abso.
lute and ultimate conceptions of the reason; all actions, conceivable as well as real, in all times and
places, are necessarily and universally qualified by




COUSIN.                 253
reason, according to these conceptions, as right or
wrong in themselves, or else they are morally indif.
ferent. Hence necessary moral principles.
The conceptions of right and wrong necessarily
and immediately awaken the idea of obligation, the
moral law.
The fundamental principle of obligation, or enun.
ciation of the moral law, is: Do right for the sake of
right; or, rather, Will the right for the sake of right.
The criterion by which an act or resolution may
be recognised as conformed to this principle, is the
impossibility of not considering the immediate motive of the particular act or resolution as universally
binding.
With the conception of right and wrong is connected not only the absolute conviction of obligation,
but also of merit and demerit; a principle not to be
confounded with the moral law, nor with the instinctive desire for happiness.
The question of the sovereign good cannot be resolved by a single element.  The Epicureans make
it the satisfaction of the desire for happiness; the
Stoics make it the fulfilment of the moral law.  The
true solution is in the harmony of both, not as equivalent principles, but in virtue as the antecedent of
happiness. In this connexion the sovereign good is
constituted of both; but of the two, virtue is the
chief good.
In IEsthetics, Cousin maintains the idea of the
Beautiful, as also an absolute conception of the reason, and, like other absolute ideas, having an absolute
object existing independently of our necessary con.
ception. This idea he distinguishes from every form
of the agreeable or useful, and upon it builds a cor.
responding system of 2Esthetics, or theory of the arts




254           MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
and criticism of the productions of the creative im.
agination.
IV. Application of Rational Psychology to the History
of Philosophy.
It is in relation to the views which it takes of the
history of philosophy that Cousin denominates his
system eclecticism.  Eclecticism is a method rather
than a system: it is the method by which a system
is applied to the criticism of all other systems, on
the ground that a truly complete and correct system
will explain the whole history of philosophy, and will
be itself justified by the history of philosophy.  For
all the great systems that have appeared in history,
however subversive of each other, contain each some
portion of truth, and, consequently, some things in
common with the comprehensive system by which
they are judged.  Eclecticism is therefore a method
both philosophical and historical. Rational psychology at once explains and is verified by the history
of philosophy. Three things are accordingly to be
distinguished in eclecticism: its starting-point, its
processes, and its end; or, in other words, its principle, its instruments, and its results.  It supposes a
system as its starting-point and clew through the labyrinth of history; its instrument is a rigid criticism,
sustained on solid and extensive erudition; its primary result is the decomposition of all systems; and
its final result the reconstruction from their materials of a new system, which shall be a complete representation of consciousness in history, and, at the
same time, correspond to the results of rational psy.
chology.
rhe application of this eclectic method discloses,
as a matter of fact in the history of philisophy, four
great systems, which comprehend all the attempts of




COUSIN.                255
the philosophical spirit, and which are found in eve.
ry great philosophical epoch. These systems are
sensualism, idealism, skepticism, and mysticism.
Sensualism takes sensation as the sole principle
of knowledge. Sensation, indeed, is the principle of
a large share of our knowledge, but not of the
whole. Sensualism has therefore an element of
truth: its error is ih its exclusive pretension of ex.
plaining all knowledge by sensation. Its consequen.
ces are materialism, fatalism, and atheism.
Idealism, on the other hand, makes the intelligence
or the ideas, which are the laws of reason, the sole
principle of knowledge.'An important part of our
knowledge has, indeed, its origin in reason, but not
all; and idealism, by erecting a partial truth into a
universal one, finds all reality in the mind, denies
rnattei, and absorbs all things, God and the universe,
into individual consciousness, and that into thought.
Skepticism, disgusted with the extravagances of
the two exclusive systems, easily demonstrates the
error that there is in both; but not distinguishing
the part of truth and the part of error that there is
in both, it falls likewise into exclusiveness, declares
every system false, and finally, with equal extravagance, declares that there is no such thing as certainty. thus falling into the absurd and suicidal dogmatism: it is certain that there is no certainty.
Mysticism is not the despair of philosophy and the
renunciation of reflection to take refuge in religious
authority, though this is a state of mind not infrequent; but it is reflection itself, grounding a system
on an element of consciousness overlooked by sen.
sualism, by idealism, and by skepticism-the element of spontaneity, which is the basis of reflection,
reason, namely, referred to its eternal principle, and
speaking with his authority in the human intelli.




256          MODERN PHILOSOPHIY.
gence. But this system, overlooking the other ele.
ments of human nature, engenders multiplied extrav.
agances, such as were displayed in the Alexandrian
school, and have been displayed in every age.
These four systems contain all the fundamental
elements of philosophy, and, consequently, of the history of philosophy. They have each their part of
truth, which it is the business 6f eclecticism to distinguish from their part of error, and to combine to.
gether into the unity and harmony of a comprehen.
sive system.
Observations.
1. In adopting the method of internal observation,
and making psychology the basis of all philosophy,
Cousin agrees with Locke and the sensual school,
with the Scottish school, and with Kant, and differs
from Schelling and the new German philosophy.
But he refuses to limit philosophy within the sphere
of psychology, and contends for a philosophy of the
absolute and infinite.  In this respect.he differs from
Locke, Reid, and Kant, and agrees with Schelling
and the later Germans.
But while he agrees with Schelling in making the
absolute and infinite a positive in knowledge, he differs fundamentally from him in the mode of attain.
ing it. Cousin finds it in consciousness; Schelling
in a faculty transcending consciousness: Cousin in
the spontaneous reason; Schelling in Intellectual Intuition, which, being a faculty out of consciousness,
is a pure hypothesis.
It will be seen, therefore, that the peculiarity of
the system of Cousin consists not merely in making
the absolute and infinite a matter of positive cogni.
tion, but in holding the twofold distinction of reason
into spontaneous and reflective, and in making the




COUSIN.                257
former, as impersonal, and, therefore, not subjective,
the faculty of immediately knowing the absolute and
infinite. The spontaneous reason apprehends the
absolute and infinite by an act of positive knowledge;
it reveals them in consciousness, but without thereby making them merely subjective.
It is, indeed, the great problem of speculative in.
quiry, whether there can be any objective knowledge
of the unconditioned, or, in other words, whether philosophy is possible, considered as anything more than
the observation and analysis of the phenomena of
consciousness.  The objective reality of the infinite
and absolute may, however, be admitted on either
ground. Reid and Kant admit the existence of God on
the ground of the necessary convictions of the reason
(we need not here advert to the differences in their
modes of arriving at their result); Schelling and
Cousin admit the Divine existence on the ground of
positive knowledge. The former attain to God by
Faith, the latter by Cognition.  In a practical point
of view, it may be thought to come to the unimportant verbal question whether our conviction of the
Divine existence be a belief or a knowledge. But
in speculation the difference is material.
2. The system of Cousin has been accused of pan.
theism. This charge is denied by the author. Pan.
theism is certainly not expressed anywhere in his
writings, but the reverse; nor is there anything in
his principles from which it becomes a necessary
consequence, taking the word either in its proper or
improper sense.  He neither (in the proper sense of
the word pantheism) confounds the infinite with the
finite, making God to be nothing but the collective
Whole of the universe, nor (in the improper sense
of the word) confounds the finite with the infinite,
denying, that is, the substantial existence of the finite,




258          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
and making the Infinite One the only Being. Spino.
za and the Eleatics make God the sole substance, and
a mere substance, of which all finite particular be.
ings are merely attributes or qualities.  Cousin rep.
resents God, not only as the absolute substance, but
also as the absolute cause, free, personal, and intelligent, and perfectly distinct from finite beings, which
are his creatures.  The Infinite One is neither identified with the Whole, nor is the distinct substantial
existence of the world, the substantial and personal
existence of man, absorbed into the Absolute Unity.
On the one hand, the collective Whole of all things
does not constitute God; nor, on the other, is the
collective Whole merely modes of God, the One and
Sole Being. He neither makes the All the only Being, nor God the only Being.
3. The system  of Cousin, from what has been
seen in the exposition, must not be confounded with
the Alexandrian doctrines, as perhaps the termn ec.
lecticism might at first lead one to imagine. That
system, though professing the principle of eclecticism, belongs to the class denominated by Cousin
mystical.  Neither, as will be obvious from  what
has been said in the foregoing pages, is it the absence of system. Eclecticism is a system, or, rather, it supposes a system, sets out from a system,
and applies a system.  It takes a system as the criterion of the truth or falsehood of the systems it
judges.  Nor is it the mixture of all systems.  It
is the very opposite of syncretism.  It does not
mix; it chooses out: it does not confuse; it dis.
criminates.




JOUFFROY.                259
NOTE.
Disciples of Cousin.-J-.Tffroy.
Cousin has gathered around him numerous disci.
ples, several of whom  have already distinguished
themselves in the cultivation of philosophy.  Among
these are Damiron, Jouffroy, Garnier, Vacherot.
Of these, the most distinguished is THEODORE JOUFr
FROY, born in 1796, and now professor of philosophy
in the Faculty of Literature in Paris.  He is the
translator of Stewart's Outlines of Moral Philosophy,
which he accompanied with a valuable preface; also
of Reid's Works, with which he connected the Frag.
ments of Royer.Collard's Lectures. Though adopt.
ing the general conclusions of Cousin, he is no mere
repeater of his ideas, but exhibits eminent abilities
as an original scientific observer; his modes of
thinking and developments are entirely his own.
He has especially devoted himself to illustrating
and establishing the general principles of the true
psychological method of observation, and to morals.
The great question, in his view, which lies at the
bottom of all genuine philosophical inquiries, is that
which concerns the nature and the destiny of man;
two distinct points, yet never to be separated.  This
view constitutes the unity of his philosophical labours, which have been devoted to the progressive
development of his ideas on this question.  Of the
lectures he has given in this course, a portion, under
the title of Introduction to Ethics, has been publish.
ed, which contains a critical review of the various
systems that have prevailed in relation to the fun.
damental principles of morality. Another volume,
containing the full exposition of his own systematic
views, is to complete this Introduction; and this is to




260          MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
be followed by four other works on the different
branches of ethics.
Of this course it is not time to speak; only it is
but just to remark of the portion already published,
that it is a production of' the very highest ability,
characterized by a scrupulous adherence to the
methods of psychological observation, by the greatest depth and accuracy of thought, united with a
transparent clearness of method and style.  It proclaims and vindicates the absolute and immutable
distinction of right and wrong, the absolute law of
moral obligation, and the idea of right in itself as the
votive of moral action.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
OF THE
RTTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
PFOM THE TIME OF THALES.
640 Thales born, according to Apollodorus.
630 Solon born.
629 Thales born, according to Meiners.
611 Anaximander born.
608 Pythagoras born, according to Larcher.
598 Solon publishes his laws. Pherecydes born about this
time.
597 Thales prodicts an eclipse.
584 Pythagoras born, according to Meiners.
561  Solon died.
557 Anaximenes flourished;
548 Thales died.
547 Anaximander died.
543 Thales died, according to some. Pherecydes died.
540 Pythagoras founds a school at Crotona.
536 Xenophanes at Elea.
504 Pythagoras died. Parmenides flourished, according to some.
500 Anaxagoras and Philolaus born. Heraclitus and Leucippus
flourished.
Anaximenes died.
496 Ocellus Lucanus flourished.
494 Democritus born.
490 Battle of Marathon.
489 Pythagoras died, according to some.
480 Battle of Salamis.
472 Diogenes of Apollonia flourished.
470  Democritus born, according to Thrasyllus.
469 SOCRATES born. Parmenides flourished.
460 Parmenides comes from Elea to Athens with Zeno.
Archelaus flourished. Democritus born, according to Apol
lodorus.
Empedocles flourished, according to some.
456 Anaxagoras comes to Athens.
450 Xenophon born.




262            CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE.
B.C.
444 Melissus.
Gorgias writes his treatise Of iature.
442  Protagoras-Prodicus flourished.
432 Beginning of the Peloponnesian War.
431  Anaxagoras accused of impiety.
430 Plato born, according to Corsini.
428 Anaxagoras died.
427 Gorgias sent to Athens. Diagoras flourished.
414 Diogenes of Sinope born.
407 Democritus died, according to Eusebius.
404 End of the Peloponnesian War.
400 SOCRATES died. His disciples withdraw to Megara. Eu
did flourished.
389 First voyage of Plato to Syracuse.
384 Aristotle born. Pyrrho born.
380 Antisthenes and Aristippus flourished.
Aristotle goes to Athens.
Eudoxus the Pythagorean flourished.
364 Second voyage of Plato to Syracuse.
361 Third Voyage of Plato to Syracuse.
360 Xenophon died.
356 Alexander born.
348 Plato died. Speusippus succeeds him.
347 Aristotle attaches himself to Hermias.
343 Aristotle preceptor of Alexander.
340  Diogenes and Crates, Cynics. Pyrrho and Anaxarchns
flourished. Zeno of Citium born.
339  Speusippus died. Xenocrates begins to teach.
337 Battle of Cheronea. Epicurus born.
336 Philip, king of Macedon, died. Alexander succeeds him.
335 Aristotle opens his school at the Lyceum.
324 Diogenes the Cynic died.
323 Alexander the Great died. Ptolemy Lagus in Egypt.
322 Aristotle died. Theophrastus succeeds him.
320 Demetrius Phalereus and Dicaearchus of Messina flourished
316 Arcesilaus died (or later).
314 Xenocrates died. Poletno succeeds him.
313 Theophrastus becomes celebrated. Crates.
305 Epicurus opens his school at Athens.
300 Stilpo and Theodorus the Atheist flourished.
Zeno founds a school at Athens.
Diodorus and Philo.
288 Pyrrho died. Strato succeeds him.
286 Theophrastus died.
285 Ptolemy Philadelphus king of Egypt.
280 Chrysippus born.
272 Timon flourished.
270 Epicurus died.
269 Strato died. Lycon succeeds him.
264 Zeno the Stoic died (or later). Cleanthes succeeds him.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                   263
B.C.
260 Perseus. Aristo of Chios. Herillus flourished.
241 Arcesilafis died (or later).
217  Carneades born.
212 Zeno of Tarsus flourished.
208 Chrysippus died, according to Menage. Diogenes of Baby
Ion.
185 Panmatius died (according to others, later).
155 Embassy of the Athenians to Rome (Critolaiis, Carneadeb
the Stoic, and Diogenes of Babylon).
146 Greece and Carthage subdued by Rome.
Antipater of Tarsus.
142 Macedonia a Roman province,
135 Posidonius born.
129 Carneades died. Clitomachus succeeds him.
115 Panawtius accompanies Scipio Africanus to Alexandria
107 Cicero born (or, according to some, 106).
106 Clitomachus died. Succeeded by Philo.
Posidonius flourished.
86 Sylla takes Athens. Philo flees to Rome.
Antiochus.
84 Lucretius born (according to others, earlier).
69 Antiochus died.
63 Judea a Roman province.
50  Posidonius died. Succeeded by Jason.
Lucretius died.
48  Cratippus the Peripatetic flourished.
44
or Cicero died.
43a
30 Egypt a Roman province.
27 1 Augustus emperor. Philo the Jew born.
AD. Roman Emperors.
2 Augustus.           Seneca born.
Sextius the Pythagorean.
Nicholas of Damascus and Xenarchus
flourished.
Athenodorus the Stoic.
14 Tiberius.
15                     Sotion.
33                     Death of our Lord.
34                     Philo the Jew flourished
37 Caligula.           Plavius Josephus born.
41  Claudius.
50                     Plutarch of Cheronea born.
54  Nero.
65                    Seneca put to death.
66'Cornutus and Musonius exiled.




264            CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
A.D.  Roman Emperors.
69 Galba, Otho.
Vitellius.         Apollonius of Thyane flourished.
70  Vespasian.         Euphrates of Egypt.
79 Titus.
81                     Musonius recalled from exile.
82  Domitian.          Philosophers and mathematicians ban.
89                      ished from Rome.
Justin Martyr born.
Epictetus flourished.
90                     Apollonius of Thyane died.
97 Nerva.              Plutarch flourished.
99 Trajan.             Tacitus.
The Gnostics.
118 Hadrian.            Secundus of Athens. Plutarch died.
120
122                     Euphrates died.
131                     Galienus born. Phavormnus.
Basilides the Gnostic.
134                     Arrian flourished.
138                     The Rabbi Akhiba died.
139 Antoninus Pius.    Calvisius Taurus.  Apollonius the
Stoic.
Basilides the Stoic.
Apuleius.
161 Marcus Aurelius.   Alcinofis. Numenius.
165                     Peregrinus the Cynic died.
Justin Martyr died.
Lucian.
170                     Athenagoras and Tatian.
Atticus the Platonist.
Bardesanes.
180 Commodus.           Maximus Tyrius.
Sextus Empiricus.
Irenaeus.
The Rabbi Juda. The Talmud.
185                     Origen born.
193 Pertinax.           Ammonius Saccas founds a school.
Salvius.           The New-Platonists.
Julian.            Clement of Alexandria.
Septimius Severus. Alexander of Aphrodisia.
Galienus died.
205 t                   Plotinus born. Philostratus.
205
212 Caracalla.          Clement of Alexandria died.  Sue
ceeded in the school of Alexandria
by Pantwenus.
218 Marcrinus.          Tertullian died.
220 Heliogahalus.
222 Alexander Severus,
232                    Plotinus becomes the disciple of Am,
I  moniu,




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                     265
i.a.  Ronan Emperors.
233                      Porphyry. Ulpian.
235  Maximin.
238  Gordian.
239  Gordian iI.
242                      Plotinus travels in the East.
243                      Plotinus comes to Rome.
244  Philip.
246                      Amelius disciple of Plotinus.
250  Trajan Decius.
252  Trebonian.
Gallus and Vibius  Longinus flourished.
Hostilianus.
253    inEmlius Valerian.  Origen died.
269  Flavius Claudius.
270  Aurelian.           Plotinus died.
275                      Longinus put to death.
276  Tacitus.
277  Probus.             Manicheism.
282  Aurelius Carus.
284  Diocletian.         A rnobius.
304  Constantine and     Porphyry died.
M axirnin.
306  Constantine.
321  Constantine be-     IarL:.icbls flourished.
comes a Christian.  Lactarntius flourished.
326                      Ar mobius died.
Lactantius died.
333                      lamblichus died. Themistius
337 { Constantine and
Constans.
340                     FEusebius died.
354                      Augustinre born.
355                      Thetnmlstius teaches at Constantinople,
360  Claudius Julian.    Sallust.
363  Jovian.
364  Valentinlan and Va.lens.
379  Theodosius.         Eunaplus.
380                      Netnesius flourished.
384                      Dldynmus of Alexandria. Jerome flot.
ished.
391                      Gregory Nazianzen.
394                      Gregory Nvssen.
395  Arcadius and Ho. Division of the Roman Empire.
norius.
398                      A mbrose died.
400                     lNemesius died.
401                      Plutarch, son of Nestor, flourished.
I1. —21




266           CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE.
A.D.   Greek Emperors.
402 Arcadius.
408 Theodosius II.
409                     Macrobius. Pelagius.
410                     Synesius.
412                     Proclus born.
415                     Death of Hypatia.
418                     Pelagius condemned.
430                     Augustine.
434                     Syrianus flourished.
450 Marcian.            Hierocles. Olympiodorus flourished.
457 Leo I.
470                     Clandian  of Messina  flourished.
Boithius died.
474 Leo 1f.             Marcian Capella flourished.
Zeno the Isaurian.
476 End ol the Western
Empire.
480                     Salvian. Cassiodorus born.
485                     Proclusdied. Succeeded by Marinus.
Ammonius, son of Hermias.
487                    LEneas of Gaza flourished.
490                     Marinus died.
491 Anastasius.         Isidore succeeds Marinus.
518 Justin I.
526                     Boethius beheaded.
527 Justinian.
529                     Philosophical schools formed at Athens.
533                     Damascius returns from Persia with
the Platonists.
Philoponus flourished.
539                     Cassiodorus shuts himself up in a
cloister.
549                     Damascius and Simpliciusflourished.
563 Justinian II.
575 Tiberius II.        Cassiodorus died.
582 Maurice.
602 Phocas.
604                     Gregory the Great.
610 Heraclius.
622                     Flight of Mohammed.
636                    Isidore of Seville died.
641 Constans III. and
IV.
Constantine II.
668 Constans V.
673                     The Venerable Bede born.
685 Justin II.
694 Leontius.
698 Tiberius III.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                    267
A.D.   Greek Emperors.
711 Philippicus.
713 Anastasius II.
716  Theodosius 111.
717  Leo Ill., the Isaurian.
735                      Bede died.
736                      Alcuinus born.
741  Constans VI.
753 (Caliph Almanzor.)
754                     John of Damascus died.
776                      Rhabanus Maurus born.
796 Irene.
German Emperors.
800  Charlemagne.
(HarounAlraschid.) Alkendi flourished.
804                     Alcuinus died.
814  Lewis the Pious.
840  Lothaire.
855 Lewis II.
856                      Rhabanus died.
875  Charles the Bald.   J. Scott Erigena comes to France.
877  Lewis III.
879                     Alfred the Great of England.
880  Charles the Fat.
886.    Erigena died.
S87  Arnolph.
891                      Photius died.
899  Lewis IV.
912 Conrad.
919 ]Henry the Fowler.
937 Otho the Great.
954                     Alfarabi died.
974 Otho II.
980                      Avicenna born.
987  Otho III.
999                      Pope Sylvester II.
1002  Henry II.
1003                      Sylvester II. died.
1020                      Michael Psellus born.
1025 Conrad IL.
1034                      Anselm born.
1036                      Avicenna died.
1039 Henry 111.
1042                      Lanfranc enters the convent of Bec.
1055                      Hildebert of Lavardin born.
1056  Henry IV.
1060/                     Anselm prior at Bec.
1072                      Father Damien died. Al Gazel born,
1079                      Abelard born.




268             CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
A.D.  German Emperors.
1080                      Berenger of Tours died.
1089                     Lanfranc archbishop of Canterbury.
1091                      Bernard of Clairveaux born.
1092                     Opinions of Roscellinus condemned at
Soissons.
1096                     Hugo St. Victor born.
1100                      Michael Psellus died (or later).
Eustachius of Nicea.
1107  Henry V.
1109                     Anselm archbishop of Canterbury.
1114                      Alain de Lisle born,
1117                      Anselm de Laon died.
1118                      Abelard teaches at Paris.
1120                     Abelard monk at St. Denis.
William of Champeaux, bishop of
Chalons, died.
1126 Lothaire.
1127                      Al Gazel died at Bagdad.
1134                     Hildebert died.
1138  Conrad III.
1139                      Moses Maimonides born.
1140                     Hugo St. Victor died.
1141                      Gilbert Porretanus bishop of Poictiers.
1142                      Abelard died.
1146                      Ecclesiastical assemblies at Paris and
Rheims against Gilbert Porretanus.
1150                     Peter Lombard writes his Sentences.
1153  Frederic Barbaros- Bernard of Clairveaux died.
sa.
1154                      Gilbert Porretanus died.
1164                      Peter Lombard and Hugo of Axniens
died.
1173                      Richard St. Victor and Robert of Milan died.
1180                     John of Salisbury died. Walter de
St. Victor.
1190  Henry VI.           Tophiil died.
1193                      Albert the Great born, according to
some.
1198  Otho IV.
1203                      Alain de Lisle died.
1205                      Maimonides and Peter of Poictiers
died.
Albert the Great born, according to
others.
1206                      Averroes died, according to some.
1209                      David de Dinant. Amalric de Char.
1214                       tres died.
1217                      Roger Bacon born.
Averroes died, according to others.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                   269
A.D.  German Emperors.
1217                     Michael Scott at Toledo.
1218  Frederic II.
1221                     Bonaventura born.
1224                     Thomas Aquinas born.
1234                     Raymond Lully born.
1236                     Albert the Great doctor of theology at
Paris.
1245                     Alexander of Hales.
1247                     Thomas Aquinas goes to Paris..Egidius Colonna born.
1248                     William of Auvergne, bishop of Paris,
died.
Thomas Aquinas begins to teach according to the views of P. Lombard.
1250                     Peter Albano born.
1251  Conrad IV
1252                     Foundation of the Sorbonne.
1253                     Robert Greathead died.
1254                     Nicephorus Blemrnmydas flourished.
1256                     Thomas Aquinas doctor of theology.
1264                     Vincent de Beauvais died.
1273  Rodolph I.
1274                     Thomas Aquinas died. Bonaventura
died.
1275                     J. Duns Scotus and Walter Burleigh
born.
1277                     John XXI., pope (Peter Hispanensis),
died.
1280  Adolph of Nassau.  Albert the Great died.
1294  Albert I.          Roger Bacon died, according to some
1300                    IRichard of Middleton died.
1308  Henry VII.         Duns Scotus died.
1309
1310                     George Pachymneres died about this
time.
1314  Lewis V.
1315                     Raymond Lully died.
Francis Mayronis introduces the Ac
tus Sorbonnicus.
1316                     A,E gidius Colonna died.
Peter Albano died.
1322                     Occarn resists the pope.
1323                     Harvay (Harvaaus Natalis) died.
1325                     Francis Mayronis died.
1330                     Occam takes refuge with the Enmper
or Lewis.
1332                     William Durand died.
Theodore Metochyta died.
1337                     Walter Burleigh died.
1343                     Occam died.




270            CHRONOLOGJCAL TABLE.
A.D.  German Emperors.
1346  Charles IV.
1347                     Occam died, according to others.
1349                     Thomas de Bradwardyne and Rolert
Holkot (lied.
1350                      Peter D'Ailly born.
1357                      Thomas of Strasburg died.
1358                      Buridan.
Gregory of Rimini died.
1361                      J. Tauler died.
1363                     J. Gerson born.
1374                      Petrarch born.
1379  Wenceslas.
1382                     Nicholas Oramus.:38Y8                     Thomas, Kempis.
1395                      Bessarion and George of Trebizond
born.
1400  Robert.
1401                     Nicholas of Cusa born.
1408                      Laurentius Valla born.
1410  Sigismund.         Matthew of Cracovia died.
1415                      Ermmanuel Chrysoloras died.
1419                     J. Wessel Gansfort born.
1425                     Peter D)'Ailly died.
1429                     J. Gerson died.
1430                     Theodore Gaza in Italy.
1435                      Marsilus Ficinus born.
1436                      Raymond of Sebonde teaches at Tou
louse.
1438  Albert 11.          Gemisthius  Pletho  and  Bessarion
come to Florence.
1440  Frederic III.      Invention of Printing. Foundation of
the Platonic Academy at Florence.
Nicholas of Clernange died.
1443                      Rodolph Agricola born.
1453  Taking of Constantinople.
1455  Nicholas V.         Reuchlin born.
1457                     Laurentius Valla died.
1462                      Pomponatius born.
1463                     John Picus Mirandola born.
1464                      Nicholas of Cusa died.
Cosmo de Medici and Pius II. died.
1467                      Erastmus born.
1472                     Bessarion (lied.
1473                     Persecution of the Nominalists at Par.
is.
1478                     Theodore Gaza died.
1480                      Thomas More born.
1481                     Francis Philelphus died.
1483                     Paul Jovius born.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                       271
A.B.    German Emperors.
E484m                      Julius Cesar Scaliger born. LUTRER
born.
1485                        Rodolph Agricola died.
1t186                      J. A rgyropulus and George Trebizond
died, accordling to some.
1489                       J. Wessel Ganstort died.
1492                        Lorenzo de Medici died.  Ludovicus
Vives born.
1493  Maximilian I.
Theophrastus Paracelsus born.
John Picus Mirandola died.
Angelo Politian died.
[497                        Melancthon born.
149'9i                      Marsilus Hicinus died.'150)                       Domrinic of Flanders died.;1501                       Jerome Cardan horn.
1508                       Bernardino Telesio born.
1509                       Andrew Caesalpini born.
1515                        Peter Ramus born. Machiavelliflous
ished.
1517' (Beginning of the
Reformation.)
1519
1520  Charles V.
1522                        Reuchlin (lied.
1.525                       Pomponatius died.
15r)7                       Machiavelli died.
k_529,                     Pa trizzi born.
1533                       John Francis Picus Mirandola slain.
M,ntaigrne born.
I 535                     j Cornelius  Agrippa  died.  Thomas
i More died.
5J6                         Eriasmus died.
I:37                      J. Fa!,er died.'i.5!, *E 1jLudovicus Vives died,
institution of the Jesuits
i L'beop)lihrastus Paraceisusdied. Charrrl died.
Copertlicus died:; ~ i                I Augustline Niphus died (born 1473).
Jamies Sadolet died.  Nicholas'T'aurellus and Justus Lipsins born.
Paul Jovius died.  Ces. Cremoninu
born.
5j5l                      Simon Porta died.
i;-  Ferdinand L 
i 360 I                   Melancthon died.'0 1 i J                    Francis  Bacotn bort.
i 52                      it Anthony Talon dilad   Ftancis San.
J chez b.rn.




272               CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
A D.   German Emperors.
1564  Maximilian Il.
1568                        Thomas Campanella born.
1569
1572                         Peter  Ramus died.  Dan. Senn.er
born.
J. Sepulveda died.
15744                         Robert Fludd born.
1575                        Jacob Bcehme born.
1576  Rodolph IIt.Jerome Cardan died.
1577                        J. B. Van Helmont born.
1578 1                       Willian Berigard born.
1580 }                      Jordano Brunlo leaves Italy.
1581                       I Lord Herbert of Cherbury born.
158:3                      | Grotius horn.
586:Jacoblus Schlegkdied.  Lueilio Vanini
|  arm  i,  Vayer born.
15s i,''  lesl died'1hormlas Hobbes born.
1589  1                       Jalres ZAtbarella died.
1 5902'i                    Ylml.a ignt-a e died.:;asselvdi tiori.  Comnenu.s born.
5!)6;?, t',* i)escarites born.  J Bodin died,
~153                 ir;~ ~cis,    ['atrizzl died.',(.~::' iao Brunro burned.
tk}{3i                      t't;~l'rt>ll acin ri asalpil died,
i)60)                        iraliis Phi(.:0ol.(nii  d1id.
1606                        N i:cholas'l'a.urellus and Justus LipsXu
(lled.
1614  Mathias                Martin Schook born.  Francis Suarez
died.
Fred. Mere. Van Helnont born.
1619  Ferdinandr I.          Varrirl burned.
1621                        J Barclay (lied.
1623                         Blaise Pascal born.
1'2,4                       Jaco'b lcehmrre died.
i625                        Clarlberg, Geulinx, aMn  Wittich born
6'26                         Francis Bacon died.
1628                         Ralp  Goelenus died.
1630                        Elnet born.  Creeuomni died.
1632                         t anchez died
I  Benedict.>pnoza, Joh-n Locke, Syl
Richard Curmberland born.
1634  P. Becker born.
16?3  Fer3din          and 11t  Driel Sennerr anrd  Robert Fludd
1t39                        3 d  led.
x.i\ ici: s.e. —.trar'<he horn.
154!',:;.::::2  (;:-,:3;,a(;e( v,':':!.
101a                         -ai -yt J,   >8v  >  l:~z
) ~2t  )rv;w XB |; i).. ti F.  i.: a:):1t  jt t. 0).1   el-r...tt.




CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE.                    273
A.D.  German Emperors.
1646                      Leibnitz born. Poiret born.
1647                      Peter Bayle born.
1648                      Herbert of Cherbury and Mersenne
died.
1650                      Descartes died.
1651                      Williai de'I'schirnhausen born.
1654-                     J. Selden died.
1655                      Gassendi died. Christian Thomasius
born.
1657  Leopold t.
165'J                     Adrian Heerebord died.  Wollaston
born.
1662                      Pascal died.
1663                      Berigard died.
1665                      J. Claltberg and Mf. Schock died.
1666                      J. de Silbon died.
1669                     (t;elinx and J. Cocceius died.
1670                      Sorbiere dieid.
1671                      Cornenius died. Shalftesbury born,
s672                      La Mothe le Vayer died.
3675                      Sarmuel Clarke bo-n.
i677                      Benedict  Spinoza  died.  Thomas
Gale, Francis Glissorn, and Harrington died.
t67.9                      Christian Wolff born. Hobbes died.
1680                      Joseph Glanviil and La Roch`coucault
died.
1684                      Berkeley born.  James Thomnasius
died.
1685                      Lambert Velthuysen died.
1687                      Henry More arnd Wittich died.
1688                      Cudworth aind Parker died.
1692                      Bishop Butler born.
1694                      Arnauld and Puffendorf died.
Francis Hutcheson and Voltaire born.,
1695                      Nicole died.
1698                      B. Becker and J. Pordage died.
1699                      Frederic Merc. Van Helmnont died.
1704                      Locke and Bossuet died.
1705 Josepkh I            J. Ray died.  David Hartley born.
Bayle died.
1707                      Sylvain Regis died.
1708                      Tschirnhausen and Jacquelot died
3711                      Hume born.
1712                      Crusius and Rousseau borm
1713                      Shaftesbuiry died.
1715                      Mi alebrai:che  lied.  Condillia aA
Helvemtiis born.
Giltert loral
1716                      Lebr.li  liz.d,




274             CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
A.D.   Getman Emperors.
1718                      Augustus Fardella died.
1719                      Poiret and Richard Cuinberland died
1720                      Bonnret born.
1721                      Huet died.
1722                      Boulainvilliers died.
1723                      Adam  Smith born. Richard  PricA
born.
1724                      Wollaston died. Kant born. Fergu.
son born,
1.727                     Newton died.
1728                      Christian T'homasius died.
t729                      Samuel Clarke, Collins, and Buddwus
died.
A ndrew Riidiger died.
1731                      Mandeville died.
1732                      Erasmus Darwin born.
1733                      W. Derham died. Joseph Priestley
born.
1735                      Le Clerc died. James Beattie born
1736  Charles VII.
1740  Frederic  I1  king
of Prussia.
1742                      Garve born.
1743                      Jacobi born. Paley born.
1744                      John Baptist Vico and Joachim Lange
died. Platner born.
1745  Francis I,
1747                      Francis  Hutcheson  died.  Jeremy
Bentham born
1748                      Crousaz and Berlamaqui died.
1751                      La Mettrie died.
1752                      Hansch died   Bishop Butler died.
1753                      Dugald Stewart born.  De M aistre
born.
1754                      Berkeley and Christian Wolff died.
Destutt de T'racy born.
1755:                      Montesquien died.  Volney born,
1756                      Larormiguilre born.
1757                      David Hiartley died. Cabanis born.
1758                      Gall born.
1759                      Mt aupertius died. Reinhold born.
1762                      Alex. Banmgartendied.  Fichte born,
1764                      M assias born
1765  Joseph Il.,         Reiknarus died. Sir James Mackintosh born.
1766                      Tlhormas Ahbt and Gotsched died.
1.768                     Bouterwekborn. Azais born. Maino
de Biran born. Royer- Collard born.
1769                      Gellert died. Keratry born.
1770                      VVinckler, D'Argens, and  Formey
died. Hegel born.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.                    275
A.D.  German Emperors.
1771                     Helvetius died.
1772                     Cramer died. Coleridge born.
1774                     Quesnay died.
1775                     Crusius and Walsch died. Schelling
born.
1776                     Hume died. Ballanche born.
1777                     Meyer and Lambert died. Dr. Thomas Brown born.
1778                     Voltaire and Rousseau died.
1779                     Sulzer died.
1780                     Condillac and Batteuxdied. De Lamenais born.
1781                     Ernesti and Lessing died.
1782                     Henry Home and Iselin died.
1783                     D'Alembert died.
1784                     Diderot died.
1785                     Beaumeister and Mably died.
1786                     Mendelsohn died.
1788                     Hamann and Filangieri died.
1789 French Revolutlon.
1790 Leopold I1.         Adam Smith, Fr. Hemsterhuys, and
Basedow died.
1791                     Richard Price, Daries, and Nettelbladt
died.
Victor Cousin born.
1792 Francis II.
1793                     Bonnet, Moritz, Beccaria, and Con.
dorcet died.
Berard born.
1796                     Thornas Reid died. Theodore Jouffroy born.
1798                     Garve died.
1800                     Maimon died.
1801                     Heidenreich and Darwin died.
1802                     Enget died
1803                     James Beattie and Herder died.
1804                     Kant, Joseph Priestley, and St. Mar
tin died.
1805                     Paley died.
1806                     Tiedemann died.
1808                     Bardili died. Cabanis died.
1809                     J. A. Eberhardt and Steinbart died.
1812                     Christian E. Schmidt died.
1813                     J. A. It. Ulrich died.
1814                     Fichte died.
1816                     Ferguson died.
1817                     De Dalberg (lied.
1818                     Platner and Campe died.
1819                     Jacobi and Solger died.
1820                     Wyttenbach and Klein died.




276            CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
A.D.  German Emperors.
1820                       Dr. Thomas Brown died.
Volney died.
1821                       Feder and Buhle died.
De Maistre died.
1822                       Eschenmayer died.
1823                       Reinhold and Maass died.
1824                       Maine de Biran died.
1828                       Dugald Stewart died.
Bouterwek died
Gall died.
Berard died.
1831                       Hegel died.
1832                       Jeremy Bentham died.
Sir James Mackintosh died
1834                       Coleridge died.
THES END