Rudolf Walter Meyer - Leibnitz and The Seventeenth-Century Revolution (Leibniz Und Die Europäische Ordnungskrise, Hamburg, 1948) - Bowes and Bowes (1952)

LEIBNITZ AND THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY REVOLUTION
LEIBNITZ
AND
THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY
REVOLUTION
R. W. M E Y E R
Lecturer in Philosophy, University o f Zurich
TRANSLATED BY J. P. STERN
B OWE S & B OWE S

The original work in German from which this translation has been
made was first published in 1948 by the Hansischer Gildenverlag
{Joachim Heitmann and Company), Hamburg, under the title Leibniz
und die europäische Ordnungskrise. For the purpose o f the present
translation the original work has been revised in many respects by
the Author in collaboration with the Translator. This translation
was first published in England in 1952 by Bowes and Bowes, Pub-
Ushers Limited, Cambridge
Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgozc

CONTENTS
1231109
INTRODUCTION page 1
A. THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY CONTROVERSY 11
L The Controversy in General 13

II. From the Fronde to Absolutism 19
III. The Cartesian Revolution 38
IV. The Crisis in the Christian Tradition 66
B. LEIBNITZ’S CHOSEN TASK 79
I. The Starting-Point 81
II. The Cultural Crisis and its Solution 85
III. Universal Correspondence 100
IV. The Image of Individual Substance 116
V. Securitas Publica or the Alliance of Power and Wisdom 127
VI. Christian Faith and Faith in Science 141
C. FREEDOM AND THE PREDICAMENT OF MAN 155
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 169
NOTES 171
INDEX 219
INTRODUCTION
To give an account of the personality and thought of Leibnitz is a difficult

undertaking. Surrounded by an aura of almost legendary greatness, he stands on
the boundary-line between two ages, his 4universal genius ’ appearing to defy
all attempts at closer designation. The age of Enlightenment called him a
polyhistor; later times saw him as a mathematician, logician or natural scientist;
others again considered him as a great lawyer or historian, or in his capacity of
Hanoverian diplomat; and he has become famous as the founder of scientific
societies, particularly of the Berlin Academy of Sciences. The philosopher’s
cloak, it seems, does not quite fit him. He is counted among the forerunners of
German idealism, yet his work lacks the systematic coherence of Kant’s or
Hegel’s. His name is associated with philosophical fragments, such as the
Theodicy or the Monadology. He never did more than sketch out a plan of his
philosophical edifice—others came to pick out from what he had begun whatever
fitted their own designs. One of these was Christian Wolff, who built himself a
vast system in which the educated public of the German eighteenth century met
with the name of Leibnitz. The Theodicy, it is true, became one of the most
popular books of the Enlightenment ; to all those who were neither pietists nor
orthodox Christians it was the text-book of current notions on the philosophy
of religion, a devotional tract rather than a philosophical cosmology. Leibnitz’s
real philosophical achievement was forgotten and remained so.
Yet the story of his posthumous fame is not without its significance. The
fundamental answers which he attempted to give to the problems of his own age
have had an effect on the thought of later ages. He hoped 4 to scatter the seeds
from which flowers might grow in other men’s gardens \ 1 Even to-day the con
sciousness of Europe is informed by his ideas. Stimulated to reflection by know
ledge in all its parts, Leibnitz himself remains a universal influence. The extra
ordinary breadth of his interests has prevented both his contemporaries and his
followers from discerning the abundantly harmonious synthesis of his work.
Even his biography remains partly vague and incomplete. Although he was one
of the most prolific letter-writers of his age we know but little of his private life.
The impersonal nature of seventeenth-century letters—which were still largely
substitutes for newspapers and magazines—gives us but little insight into the
workings of this most cotnplex of minds. N or do the accounts of his first bio
graphers afford us much help in such an enquiry.2 Their descriptions vacillate
between truth and fiction, and anecdotes are made to fill factual gaps ; of his
birth and death legendary stories are told. As for Leibnitz’s political activities
(which have only recently been studied in greater detail3), here too a reliable
appraisal seems impossible to come by. Unlike the names of his friends and
patrons, his own name is not recorded in the political history of Germany or of
Europe; his political missions never brought him into thè lime-light of events.
A diplomatic veil lies over his religious and patriotic work.4 He founded no
school and had, during his lifetime, no disciples. There is, in fine, something
anonymous and impersonal in all his activities.
2 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E S E V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y R E V O L U T IO N
This anonymity is partly explained by his failure (in itself significant of a
fundamental trait of his reflection) to collect more than a very few of his writings
into larger works ; of these, only the Theodicy was published in his life-time. A
number of small but important treatises appeared in various learned journals of
the time. Whole books, essays and drafts remained buried in his desk or (in the
case of his political memoranda) in secret archives.5 Compared with other
thinkers of his age he did not set much store by his literary pursuits. His parti
cipation in the controversy of his age was direct and immediate. His writings
are always occasioned by and concerned with the problem in hand. The work
which was not published during his life consists of a great mass of hardly legible
drafts (he was short-sighted), which were put away in his large secret cabinet
and remain largely unpublished to the present day. Ever since 1765 collected
editions of his writings have been appearing. Not until the nineteenth century,
however, did scholars begin systematically to collect his unpublished works;
Pertz in 1843, Klopp in 1864 and the Berlin Academy in 1923 all set about the
gigantic task of publishing complete editions, yet all have failed. Here too (as
in so many other respects) one is tempted to connect the many failures to finish
the task with its universality. Of the forty volumes planned by the Berlin Aca
demy only six have so far been published; until this edition is completed no full
chronological account of Leibnitz’s philosophical development can be given.
2
Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz was born in Leipzig on July 3rd 1646 into a
family of renowned legal scholars. His father died when the boy was six years
old and he was educated by his mother along orthodox Protestant lines. He
was something of a prodigy and soon outstripped all his contemporaries at the
Nikolaischule, which he entered at an early age. At Easter 1661 he matriculated
in the Arts Faculty of the University of Leipzig. His first academic dissertation,
De principio individui, which in March 1663 gained him the Bachelor’s degree,
was written under the influence of his teacher Jacob Thomasius, one of the last
representatives of late scholasticism in Germany. Even before the conclusion-
of this philosophical treatise Leibnitz had turned to legal studies. In 1663 he
spent a term at the University of Jena, where Erhard Weigel introduced him to
mathematics. In January 1664 he submitted a legal dissertation, Specimen diffi
cultatis in Jure; in February of that year his mother died; and in December his
dissertation was approved by Leipzig University and he was admitted to the
degree of Master of Arts. Having conducted a number of legal disputations,
Leibnitz was given a teaching post in the philosophical faculty, for which he
wrote a Disputatio arithmetica de complexionibus; this work forms the basis of
the Ars Combinatoria (1666), the first of his writings to attract attention outside
his native city. He gained his degree of Doctor of Law at the University of
Altdorf (which was a part of the Imperial City of Nuremberg); his dissertation
De casibus perplexis in Iure (1666) was so outstanding that he was offered a
Professorship on the strength of it; this offer he declined.
In Nuremberg Leibnitz became for a time Secretary of the Rosicrucian
Society, and here, too, he made a most important acquaintance. At an inn he
met Baron Johann Christian Boineburg, a late minister of the Elector of Mainz,
who introduced Leibnitz to the political life of Germany and Europe. Follow
ing Boineburg to Frankfurt, he came in contact with the Protestant pietist
IN T R O D U C T IO N 3
Jacob Spener, whose influence seems to have prevented Leibnitz from entering
the Catholic Church. The theological interests aroused by Spener are reflected
in Leibnitz’s Defensio contra Atheistas and in a number of other apologetics
written at this time.
In Frankfurt he had hopes of entering on a political career. His Methodus
nova discendae docendaeque Iurisprudentiae, written for the perusal of the Chan
cellor Johann Philipp of Schönborn, gained him a post in the service ‘of the
Elector of Mainz, and he was given the task of reforming the current code of
law. His main works at that time, however, were written in the service and at
the behest of Boineburg: thus in 1668 he wrote a Specimen demonstrationum
politicarum pro eligendo Rege Polonorum, hoping to help Philipp Wilhelm of
Neuburg, the Count Palatine, to gain the Polish Crown; in 1669 he edited and
prefaced Nizolius’s Antibarbarus (1563), and attacked a learned Socinian in a
Defensio Trinitatis. In 1670, however, he also wrote two treatises on dynamics,
Theoria motus concreti et abstracti.
A political career remained his goal. With Boineburg he took part in the
conference of Schwalbach (1670); in an important memorandum, Securitas
publica interna et externa, he conceived the idea of deflecting Louis XIV’s atten
tion from Germany by proposing (in his famous Consilium Aegyptiacum) to the
King an expedition to Egypt. With this memorandum he went to Paris in 1672.
After the death of Boineburg in December 1672 Leibnitz’s position in Mainz
became somewhat insecure. Early in 1673 he went to London (still on behalf of
Mainz), and being elected a member of the Royal Society he began, on his return
to Paris, his mathematical studies under Christian Huygens; these culminated
in the autumn of 1675 in the discovery of the infinitesimal calculus and of its
present method of notation. He contemplated settling in Paris, but finally
accepted an appointment as librarian to the (recently converted) Duke John
Frederick of Hanover. On his return journey to Germany (1676) he visited Eng
land and Holland, where he met Spinoza. -
Leibnitz’s first work in Hanover, De lure Suprematusi is a pseudonymous
treatise on the legal position of embassies, written in preparation for the Con
gress of Nymwegen. There followed a number of attempts to bring about a
reunion of the Churches, and his arduous and unsuccessful activities in the
Harz mines.
Duke John Frederick died in 1679. His successor, Ernest Augustus, an
ardent Protestant, now appointed Leibnitz court historian and gave him the
task of writing a history of the Guelph family. In the following years Leibnitz
published his discovery of the infinitesimal calculus under the title Nova Metho
dus pro maximis et minimis (in the Leipzig Acta Eruditorum of 1684), and his
Discours de Métaphysique (1686). His historical work took him to Italy (1687-
90), where he made contact with the Viennese court through Jesuit emissaries;
here also he declined the offer of an appointment as Custodian of the Vatican
Library. On his return to Hanover Leibnitz supported his Duke and Otto von
Grote, the prime minister, in their endeavour to gain Imperial recognition of the
right of primogeniture and of Electoral status for Mainz; these were granted
in 1692. The following years saw the completion of a large number of works;
among them are Animadversiones in partem generalem Principiorum Cartesian-
orum (1692); Système nouveau de la Nature (1695); Specimen Dynamicum
(1695); Novissima Sinaica (1697); and above all his reflections on Locke, the
Nouveaux Essais sur VEntendement Humain (1696).
Ernest Augustus’s reign, which ended with his death in 1698, was the hap-
l*
piest and most brilliant period of Leibnitz’s life. The Duke’s son Georg Ludwig
(afterwards George I of England) had little sympathy for his varied pursuits,
and once again Leibnitz’s position at the court became precarious. The young
Duke insisted that Leibnitz should at last complete his Annales originum Bruns-
vicensium, a task which involved Leibnitz in endless travail and vexations.
Leibnitz’s longstanding plans for the founding of a learned Society were at
last realized with the help of his enthusiastic and faithful disciple Sophia Char
lotte of Brandenburg (later Queen of Prussia); in 1700 the Berlin Academy was
founded and Leibnitz elected its first President. Yet the political tension between
Hanover and Berlin made him suspect at both courts. Similar plans for aca
demies in Dresden, St. Petersburg (following Leibnitz’s meeting with Peter the
Great in Carlsbad in 1712), and in Vienna all failed, and with the death of the
Queen in 1705 Leibnitz lost all influence in Berlin. The account of his conversa
tions with her, the Theodicy, is the only major work published in Leibnitz’s life
time; both the Monadology (written in Vienna in 1714) and the Principes de la
Nature et de la Grâce (written for Prince Eugene of Savoy, also in 1714) appeared
posthumously.
In 1714 Georg Ludwig became King of England; Leibnitz was banished to
Hanover, where he assiduously laboured on his history of the Guelphs ; he was
promised that upon completing it he would be given a post in London. At the
time of his death on November 14th 1716 he had brought the story down to
the year 1005, and it has remained unfinished to the present day.
3
The study of Leibnitz, enriched in recent years by a great number of special
ized enquiries, endeavours to enlarge our knowledge of the man on all sides.
It appears that Leibnitz’s work has many affinities with all philosophical move
ments since Kant ; even more directly, a study of his work is seen to reflect the
contemporary strife of ideologies and philosophies. Founding their enquiries on
the most disparate metaphysical presuppositions, past historians of philosophy
have, with painstaking labour, collected all available fragments of Leibnitz’s
work, and erected from them new edifices in their own styles and fashions. It
seemed to them that thus an approach was made to 4historical truth ’—yet the
result was a Babel of styles. For the various syntheses which were attempted
proved entirely incompatible with each other. The study of Leibnitz came to
be based on the conviction that his reflective abundance had produced not a
chaotic mass of fragments, but a coherent and orderly cosmos which was now
to be restored. The ‘ real ’ Leibnitz—the strange universality of his person, his
contradictoriness, the baroque anonymity of his work—was replaced by a
‘ true ’ Leibnitz, whose harmonized system seemed to fit every possible ideology.
‘ The total spiritual unity of his being ’ was to be given a splendid place in the
Pantheon of history. The term 4universal genius ’ seemed to be the common
denominator of all trends of thought; and thus at any rate the height of his
pedestal was agreed upon by all. The nineteenth-century preoccupation with
history once more restored a belief in genius; and this belief was the chief
reason for all this intense interest in Leibnitz. The 4inner form of his person
ality ’ (as Schmalenbach had called it) was to conjure up a perennial philosophy
which would not only sanction but even demand an escape into the pre-estab
lished harmony of history. The historically educated intellectual was on the
look-out for historical greatness, for heroes of the human spirit whose doctrines
would arrest the actual decline of all culture and education. Thus Eduard
Pfleiderer’s study of Leibnitz: Bearer o f Culture and Patriot was a manifesto of
the intellectual and cultural aspirations of the ’eighties. The controversial figure
of Leibnitz was endowed with a mythical splendour in which the actual crisis
of the age could be conveniently forgotten.
Closely connected with this nineteenth-century cult of historical greatness
there arose another problem: the restoration of the unity of all the sciences.
And Leibnitz appeared to be significant only in so far as a synthesis of his
personality could be used in establishing a universal synthesis of all the sciences.
To accuse him of having'a mind full of disparate and contradictory interests,
of squandering his gifts upon incompatible pursuits, of eclecticism and encyclo-
paedism—all this was certain to be resented by an age which valued so highly
the notion of an essential unity underlying the manifoldness of all phenomena.
Yet this precisely was the indictment now voiced on all sides. The crisis of
nineteenth-century philosophy began with a rearrangement of the specialized
sciences in their relation to philosophy. The elimination of all philosophical
speculation marked the end of idealism. At the turn of the century the natural
sciences took ,the intellectual lead and assumed the role of arbiters of truth.
Yet faith in science merely hides the problematic nature of all science; and it
was in the territory between science and the humanities that the first cracks of
the scientific ideology appeared. For some time the technical achievements of
the age were able to keep alive the faith in science; and here too Leibnitz’s posi
tion was safely established. But soon a gulf opened up between science and
the humanities. The specialists of an earlier age had been united by a common
ethos of progress; this ethos was now challenged by the absolutist claims of
each specialized science, and replaced, before long, by a false pathos. Yet once
again the historical consciousness seemed to save the critical situation of the
sciences. Hegel’s dialectical method kept up the illusion, for it was superior
to any other doctrine in its pretence of being able to suspend the crisis of the
historical consciousness. The conflict of the sciences was to be solved by in
quiries into the literary and historical minutice of the past. And it was solved—■
at any rate in its historical aspect; yet the present and future predicament
remained. The philosophers of the age—whose originality was entirely histori
cal, and who were working their way backward through the century—were under
the spell of an imminent predicament for which no historical solution could be
found. By clinging to the greatest heroes of the history of ideas they hoped to
be able to meet the pressing questions of the future. Outside the historical
consciousness there was no acceptable solution for the problems of existence.
Every detail of the story which has here been briefly outlined can be retraced
in the many studies of Leibnitz’s work written during the past hundred years.6
4
Let us now briefly consider the kind of interest Leibnitz attracted and stimu
lated.
There is, to begin with, the purely antiquarian interest. Our vague and
ambiguous knowledge of his life has stimulated the learned curiosity of a great
number of historians of ideas. The work of collecting and arranging his post
humous writings and letters began to be conducted on a large scale;7 the material
thus collected was to be made available for an encyclopaedic and systematic
history of the human mind, such as Hegel had conceived it. Yet there was also
something almost serene about this gigantic and infinitely conscientious display
of learning. Johann Eduard Erdmann, who (together with Pertz) is the most
famous of these historians, spent years of his fife in the Leibnitz archives in
Hanover, copying and collating all available manuscripts; in a letter to a friend,
Erdmann wrote, ‘ I know that I leave to those who come after me not honey
combs, but pure wax \
With the growth of historical consciousness academic and educational in
terests began to be stimulated by the study of Leibnitz. The universality of his
learning was now stressed, and Frederick the Great’s remark, 4Leibnitz himself
comprises a whole Academy!’ became the motto of an age; every savant believed
Leibnitz to be his own spiritual ancestor, and everyone felt an individual obliga
tion to complete Leibnitz’s work. The nature of Leibnitz’s reflection, his com
mitment to the problems of his age, all this was lost in an attempt to establish
Leibnitz as the timeless genius of his nation, to turn him into an academic myth.
Regretfully writers note that 6he did not withdraw himself from the influence
of his time and that ‘ he did not, like Spinoza, seek in philosophy merely the
tranquillity of his own mind; on the contrary, he plunged into the busy activities
of the contemporary world; and thus he did not remain unstained by his age... .’8
The modem praeceptores philosophiae now set about building their academic
cosmologies explicitly on Leibnitz’s ideas. Thus Windelband’s synthesis9 demon
strates the continuity and coherence, in Leibnitz’s work, of all specialized
sciences; the same thesis is advanced in Wundt’s study,10 where a dogmatic
attempt is made at subordinating the humanities to the natural sciences. In
Dilthey’s study11 (the culminating point of this movement) Leibnitz is celebrated
as an exemplar of the spontaneous generation of objective idealism out of self-
conscious individualism. To Dilthey, Leibnitz appears as the leading spirit in
the intellectual culture of modern Europe; the Academy Leibnitz founded is
for Dilthey a safeguard of all future culture and progress, it is the one institution
which, in his view, will overcome the present crisis.
Yet while the historical consciousness extolled Leibnitz’s heroic greatness,
inevitably the contradictoriness of the baroque thinker was brought to fight.
Certain scientific, philosophical and religious doubts, very much alive in the
academic world, seemed as yet to find an apparently adequate explanation in
the historical account. One of these explanations consisted in viewing the many-
sidedness and diffusion of knowledge ‘ perspectively ’ ; and the perspective
method was discerned as fundamental to Leibnitz’s own philosophy. Thus
Dietrich Mahnke12 strung together all the perspectives of, and opinions about,
Leibnitz and constructed from them a total critical synthesis ; and 6in accor
dance with the advance of thought ’ he attempted A New Monadology13 on the
basis of a plan of 1714. Edmund Husserl’s concept of eidetic intuition (in which
a coincidence of essence and reality is postulated), or Lotze’s concept of an
harmonious cosmic system (in which a coincidence of real experience and ideal
value is postulated) were to supply the basis on which a metaphysical unity of
the ‘ double nature of the historical Leibnitz ’ could be constructed.
And now even an actual disharmony of points of view was admitted into
the history of ideas. Heinz Heimsoeth14 based his study of Leibnitz’s inner
contradiction upon an antinomy between a metaphysical and religious per
sonalism on one hand, and a methodological formalism on the other. The
‘ central difficulty of Leibnitz’s work * had already been pointed out by Eduard
IN T R O D U C T I O N 7
von Hartmann in his History o f Metaphysics. Heimsoeth’s work stresses this
difficulty, and yet the fundamental significance of Leibnitz’s critical situation
nowhere emerges. For in giving an account of the baroque Zeitgeist as it is
immortalised in Leibnitz’s system, Heimsoeth’s contrapuntal method of dis
cussing incompatible reflective theorems turns his experience of the actual
crisis of his age into an aesthetic adventure. In Schmalenbach’s study15 the
bare antitheses of Leibnitz’s reflection are worked out. Here Leibnitz is seen
to be involved in an inner conflict between Calvinist pluralism and the arith
metical mode on one hand, and mystical monism and the geometrical mode on
the other—and this conflict is seen as the foundation, too, of the Western
philosophia perennis. This ‘ totally destructive self-contradiction ’ is, for Schmal-
enbach, ‘ the curse that lies on this spirit ; sometimes Leibnitz is aware of it, as
when his inquiétude is transformed into the torment of an endless and hopeless
search. . . .’
Indeed, a present-day student of Leibnitz may well share this feeling of
anxiety when, in surveying the spiritual situation of his age, he is seized—as
Leibnitz was once seized—by an awareness of the threat to that very tradition
in which he, as its historian, is ensconced.
5
This cultural and philosophical tradition affords us a refuge no longer. The
political and religious problems of Europe are no longer historical. The failure
of the traditional order, which is our present experience, gives rise to a new
critical and responsible interest in the history of Western thought. We are
anxious to discover the origin of our own predicament ; the sole motive of our
interest is a concern for the future of European culture. And thus the nature
and method of our enquiry changes. The works of past philosophers are no
longer expressions of ‘ classical truths nor do we see in past philosophical
systems timeless landmarks of what Hegel had called 6the intellectual develop
ment of mankind and of its self-consciousness ’. Ages less precarious than our
own have been too easily contented with histories of philosophy which begin
straightaway with an enquiry into the nature and formal function of this or
that type of reflection. Yet are not the meaning, object and content of philo
sophical reflection determined by its occasion? Is it not this occasion which
impels philosophers to reflect on, give an account of, and ultimately to elucidate,
the predicament of their own specific situation?
Such then are the presuppositions of the present enquiry, whose subject is
Leibnitz’s philosophical commitment to his own revolutionary age. His sig
nificance for us is not merely of academic interest. Leibnitz is not the detached
philosopher of German idealism, reflecting upon the abstract themes of a past
metaphysics. He lived and thought in an age of crisis. He was impelled to
reflect and to postulate philosophical coherences by contemporary events which,
in spite of the passage of time, have lost none of their actual importance.
The name of Leibnitz is closely connected with the conception of Europe
as a cultural and political unity, a conception which no longer exists at the
present time. To give an account of Leibnitz’s ideas on this issue may therefore
be useful in an attempt to determine the causes of the decline. But such an
account can be meaningful only if it also discerns the dangers to our own
existence inherent in Leibnitz’s cultural and philosophical synthesis, and if it
succeeds in tracing back his description of European self-consciousness to the
real crisis of his age. The philosophical self-assertion inherent in Leibnitz’s work
and the ambitious claims to power of his sovereign intellect must be discerned
as the ultimate sources of his imperious will to erect a philosophical system.
Hence our task will be to determine where Leibnitz’s responsible awareness of
his philosophical commitment ends, and where the direct assertion of his philo
sophical self-consciousness (expressed in a system with absolute claims) begins.
The following is a plan of the present enquiry:
A. In the first part an attempt will be made to describe the intellectual,
political and religious aspects of the chaotic controversy into which the European
continent was plunged after the end of the Thirty Years’ War. In his political
memorandum of 1670 Leibnitz described the ‘ chief dangers’ of the contem
porary situation in these words:
These consist in a badly established trade and manufacture; in an entirely debased
currency; in the uncertainty of law and in the delay of all legal actions; in the worthless
education and premature travels of our youth; in an increase of atheism; in our morals,
which are as it were infected by a foreign plague; in the bitter strife of religions; all of
which taken together may indeed slowly weaken us and, if we do not oppose it in good time,
may in the end completely ruin us; yet, we hope, will not bring us down all at once. But
what can destroy our Republic with one stroke is an intestine or an external major war,
against which we are entirely blind, sleepy, naked, open, divided, unarmed; and we shall
most certainly be the prey either of the enemy or (because in our present state we could
match none) of our protector.16
But the hidden intellectual and religious contradictions of the age are no less
powerful than its manifest ruin in inciting Leibnitz to participate everywhere and
at all times in the contemporary controversy. The learned and trivial discussions
in which he is involved have little to do with grand disputations and Councils.
He experiences all the concrete, detailed controversies of the age, the direct
assertions of incompatibles: tradition against reform, myth against science,
law against power, freedom against commitment, individual will against
the common will—these are the antinomies he has to face. Hence the pro
blem of peace dominates his way of thinking. Born into an age of unrest, he
attempts in every field to maintain the ‘ dearly-bought peace ’ of Münster and
Osnabrück. With the beginning of the absolutist age of Louis XIV the political,
intellectual and religious crisis has reached a new stage. Now the philosopher
has a concrete task to fulfil: he is to elucidate the foundations of a future order.
This is the task which Leibnitz takes up, interpreting it in terms not of Germany
but of Europe. Yet this elucidation—Enlightenment—is only possible if peace
prevails.
B. In the second part of the present enquiry the nature of Leibnitz’s reflec
tion and of his responsible commitment are to be described in terms of his
universal participation on one hand, and of his self-conscious account on the
other. In leaving the University of Leipzig he takes up with open eyes his
position in the contemporary controversy; his is not a mere flight from scholastic
orthodoxy, but a hesitating emergence into contemporary reality. We shall
follow Leibnitz in his conscientious and critical progress through the labyrinth
of his age: as a diplomat and lawyer in Mainz; as a mathematician and scientist
in Paris and London; as a statesman, economist, mining expert, theologian
and diplomatic adviser in Hanover and Vienna; as an historian and traveller in
Italy; as an organizer of academies and as a political agent in Berlin, Dresden
and St. Petersburg. His greatly admired universality—the intellectual centre of
his philosophy—cannot be explained except by his profound concern for the
problems of his time. As a responsible thinker Leibnitz attempts to elucidate
the contemporary position by reflecting upon the conflicting claims to absolute
validity advanced by various types of contemporary self-assertion; and to
consider him in the light of his chosen task seems more relevant to our own
experience than to see in him the founder of German idealism. The critical
claims of his philosophy must be distinguished from its speculative claims. For
as a critical thinker he conceives it as his task not merely to get to know the
limits of man, but also humbly to acknowledge them; the theoretical principle
of his critical account of the Self is the principle of toleration.
C. In his later life Leibnitz becomes fully convinced that he has found a
solution to the problem of relating the individual to the universal. In the third
part of the present enquiry we shall therefore be concerned with the conse
quences of this speculative over-valuation of his own solution. His critical
account of the actual Self gives way to a speculative synthesis founded in a
theoretical self-consciousness. The ultima Thule of monadological reflection is
complete retreat into an isolated Self; biographically speaking, freedom and
commitment cease to be related in any stable manner, until, at the very end of
Leibnitz’s life, they break out in a fatal conflict. At the point where Leibnitz
advances the self-conscious claim of raising the essence of his own individuality
to a universal law lies the distinction between his critical and his speculative
philosophy; and at this point the philosopher becomes isolated from the rest
of the world. He flees the noisy, chaotic controversy of the contemporary scene
in order to listen to the distinct, quasi-mathematical voice of his inner mono
logue; for only within himself can he now find the two fundamental principles
of his monadological system, the principles of 4uncontradicted truth ’ and of
‘ sufficient reason \
Leibnitz claims that 4the observation of the essence of things is nothing else
but an observation of the essence of our own spirit \ 17 With this claim he raises
the essence (which is 4ratio et voluntas ’) of his own spirit (the 4 individual sub
stance ’) to an entirely new level. The intellectual individuality of man, informed
by an entirely new ethos of intellectual achievement, becomes the measure of
all human existence. In this doctrine of personalist absolutism—which is
essentially the same as Louis XIV’s doctrine of political absolutism—no real
community is possible. And at this point Leibnitz’s conception of man’s sove
reign spirit comes to contradict his own idea of toleration. The commonwealth
becomes a mere 4aggregate of monads ’, and the aesthetically significant con
cept of an 4harmonia mundi ’ can no longer bridge the gulf between individual
men, states, or nations.
It is obvious that in creating his idea of a world harmony Leibnitz is leaving
the realm of critical philosophy and expressing an essentially poetic idea. He
rules over his world of monads as freely as a general rules over his men, or an
artist over the 4material ’ of his imagination. Accordingly, his cosmology was
taken up mainly by poets. Herder was the first to admire the 4reflective poetry ’
of the Monadology, although even earlier Frederick the Great had spoken some
what contemptuously of a 4Monadenpoeme ’. Lessing too turned to the 4great
Leibnitz ’, finding in his work those 4psychic values ’ (Gemiithswerte) which he
missed in the disciples of Wolff, who claimed to be the legitimate heirs of Leib
nitz’s philosophy. But it was Goethe above all others who recovered the values of
the 4monadic poem ’; it was he who informed its abstract concepts with his live
and concrete imagination. The gulf, fundamental to modern European experi
ence, between political and academic life is created by Leibnitz’s assertion of the
absoluteness of his synthesis; this gulf Goethe attempted to bridge with his
own mode of life. It was a last attempt, and it too was in vain; universality
remained the myth and the dogma of an absolute individuality. And this was
also true for Schelling’s and Hegel’s philosophies. Leibnitz’s mathesis univer
salis seu divina became r i x vr! on one hand and poetry on the other. In this
mathesis, in this mental discipline, the great achievements of German idealism
are founded : its systems of natural and moral sciences ; its music and literature ;
its philosophical cosmologies; and its great Academies. The monad, however,
entered bourgeois life and became the symbol of an unbounded individualism.
The monad remains the symbol of a world which is on the brink of chaos be
cause its myth, the harmonia mundi, fails to give a total account of experience.
A
THE
SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY CONTROVERSY
CHAPTER I
THE CONTROVERSY IN GENERAL

1
The dates of Leibnitz’s life (1646-1716), which roughly coincide with the
Peace of Westphalia and with the end of the War of the Spanish Succession,
mark off the period that concerns us in the present inquiry.
It will be our task to listen to the general controversy of this critical period,
to attend to an exchange of views concerning problems fundamental to human
existence, to problems which even to-day—though under a different aspect—
form the topics of a European controversy. The possibility of a violent solution
of these problems threatened the peace and unity of Europe, and heralded the
clangour of arms that was to fill almost unintermittently the restless continent.
Whenever the common will to keep the peace was exhausted, the controversy
came to an end. The problem of peace assumed a more radical importance
than it had ever had before, because the relationship between individual men
and society, and between individual states and the European whole, had become
questionable in the extreme, and thus tended to favour extreme solutions.
Naked power with all the means at its command made a bid to determine this
relationship. The fundamental human conflict that was voiced in this contro
versy was to be not solved but disposed of by thinking in terms of power. But
the problem of peace cannot be disposed of by the sword. Thus in the seven
teenth century—as to-day—the critical controversy of Europe took place on the
verge of an abyss in which human voices were drowned in blood. Leibnitz—
no less than Pascal, creator of the image—appears to be intimately aware of this
abyss; to keep alive this controversy between the universal and the individual
powers, between states and nations and individuals, and to secure it for the
future is his life-long concern. This deep concern informs all his political works:
4For as regards maintenance,’ he writes, 4it is well known that the security of
everyone is founded upon the common peace, the disruption of which is like
a great earthquake or hurricane, in which all is confounded and none knows
whither to turn for succour or advice. There are but few who can escape this
turmoil. But the many who cannot escape it give themselves up to it helplessly,
awaiting in resignation the imminent disaster; all of which has, during the
present wars, been again and again our own experience.’18
Before examining Leibnitz’s participation in the controversy of his age we
must turn to the critical and perilous questions which, 4like a great earthquake
or hurricane disrupted the 4common peace ’. When, further, these critical
questions came to be experienced as personal accusations, they tended also to
disturb the 4private peace ’ of Leibnitz himself, who—Lutheran and legal
scholar—had a fine ear for the crisis in the controversy of his age.
As long as its character (as a more or less excited exchange of views) is pre
served, a controversy moves simultaneously on several different levels. Thus
when we examine an historical epoch, rounded off and concluded, it is usually
its political history (whose factualness is often overestimated) on which our
attention is focused. But what is enacted before the eyes of all on the political
13
14 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E S E V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y RE V O L U T IO N
stage is only the ultimate outcome of a dark and confused struggle of ideas and
ideologies whose ‘ factual ’ background is obscure. A history of thought and
culture, again, is usually concerned with just this ideological and philosophical
sphere of a controversy, and seeks to deduce the political strife from certain
ideas and principles. A last reductio occurs in the writing of a history of religion,
which, by examining its relation with the transcendent, seeks to understand the
controversy of an era sub specie aeternitatis.
In what follows we shall keep apart ,these three planes (the political, the
philosophical and cultural, and the religious), for our aim is merely to make
clear the manifold dangers that surround the controversy. There is a constant
criss-crossing and mutual confounding between these three discussions; and it
would be very difficult to draw unequivocal border-lines. Nevertheless, we must
attempt to distinguish between these three ‘ realms ’ in which historical happen
ings are discussed.19 Leibnitz was frequently active in all.of them simultaneously.
He was for ever in danger of overestimating the importance of one controversial
topic at the expense of the others; of wilfully failing to hear a ‘ discordant voice
in the concert of Europe ’; and of thus forfeiting his claim to a balanced and
responsible participation in it. And every synthesis of these mutually contra
dictory areas of controversy that is based either upon an immanent principle
or upon a transcendent force, is beset by the same danger. For it is this con
fusion—truly baroque in its dimensions—of controversial areas which brings
about the crisis of the seventeenth century.
In order to describe this crisis it will, first of all, be our aim to show in a
general way the chief modes of thought of the age as they emerge from the
decline of the mediaeval cosmology. We shall then consider the controversies
on the political, cultural and philosophical, and religious planes. Throughout
we must bear in mind that it is the absence of peace everywhere and in everything
that gives rise to the many critical questions which Leibnitz takes up and attempts
to answer in the spirit of his time.
From the thirteenth century onwards the Holy Roman Empire was declining,
while the power of the European states was rising. The Empire faded into a
legendary dream of past world dominion; the territorial Princes consolidated
their powers within their own countries in a manner unequalled by any ruler
of the Sacrum Imperium. This was not a specifically German phenomenon, but
one of European importance. Inherent in the mediaeval secular and spiritual
order, which governed the whole of Europe, there had always been a dangerous
contradiction. Since the early fifteenth century two fundamental concepts of
the peace in Europe stood opposing each other. The religious order, expressed
in the concept of Respublica Christiana, was challenged by the Renaissance and
by the Reformation. And since then a 6natural ’ order, concerned mainly with
secular problems, was gaining ground. The ‘ divine ’ and the 4 natural ’ orders
clashed for the first time at the beginning of the sixteenth century in Charles V’s
idea of Empire and in Francis Fs idea of State.20 The contention between
Charles and Francis concerned two entirely different ideas of the relation of
powers. Charles’s order was based on the concept of ‘ Christendom ’. In his
view, countries, peoples and princes, in brief all the powers that had organized
themselves in the Estates, were to have an almost complete freedom and self-
determination with regard to all internal and foreign affairs, limited only by
their common allegiance to the great body of Christendom. This allegiance
entailed corporate action against the Infidel—the Turkish crusades—and against
T H E C O N T R O V E R S Y IN G E N E R A L 15
the renegade Lutherans; and further, it entailed ratification of the rights,
stipulated in treaties, of other, particularly of neighbouring, states.
Francis, the Invasor reipublicae christianae, had, in Charles’s view, violated
this order. It was Charles’s duty—both because it was he who was attacked, and
because he was the Moderator of Christendom—to restore this order. The King
of France, on the other hand, saw around him, not Charles’s corpus christianum,
but Europe, that is a number of states large and small, a multitude of greater or
lesser ‘ powers each in its own view sovereign and almost independent, with
no more than its own interests to guide it. Within this multitude his own king
dom was one of the greatest powers. But these powers could maintain their
sovereignty only as long as one of them was not excessively strong. It was not
the idea of Empire which Francis consciously opposed, but only the contem
porary arrangement of powers in which he found Charles; for in this arrange
ment Francis saw a threat to France, and therefore to all the other ‘ states
No concept, let alone a term, existed for what all these states had in common.
The King had to borrow a word from the imagery of antiquity in order to drive
home the danger which threatened from the Emperor; he accused Charles of
tyrannis, of striving after ‘ monarchy \ He did not, however, go so far as to
call the number of ' sovereign states ’ a republic; for this the idea of sovereignty
had not yet advanced far enough. And the only idea which would have been
relevant was the idea of ‘ Christendom ’ as a secular, political idea. But this
precisely was the Emperor’s idea. Therefore Francis not only had to abandon
it, but was forced into fighting it. And this he now did by openly acknowledging
his alliance with the Turks, the very enemies of ‘ Christendom ’, an alliance
which so far had only been an unacknowledged matter of fact. As for Charles,
he understood the policy of his opponent perfectly. He did not, however, see
that what was gaining ground in tontemporary France was a political6 solution \
fundamentally opposed to and competing with his own policy; even less did he
see that this was an idea which one day would carry the field. He saw in Francis
the captain of a ship that had lost its bearings. Unwilling to abdicate from his
faith in ‘ Christendom ’ as the highest principle of the political order, he abdi
cated in his own person.
This, then, was the political situation; it was a situation of permanent
crisis. And this critical situation determined not only the future course of
politics, but also the historical climate in which Leibnitz experienced the impetus
of reflection. The idea of Empire and the idea of State permeated each other in a
singular manner in the political thought of the young Leibnitz. ‘ Europe ’ and
Christendom ’ were the fundamental concepts of the order which he wished to
effect in a political synthesis. Yet the struggle between these two concepts (and
they belonged to a religious and philosophical controversy no less than to
politics) was still undecided. Politically speaking, the seventeenth century was
the age of the Fronde ; the attempt to establish and realize the idea of the ab
solute state clashed with the religious claim of the idea of Empire. Absolute
dynasty was at stake; the struggle was carried against the nobility and the priest
hood; for both were the last bearers of the powers that had once been vested in
the Estates. As to philosophy, the age was engaged in a passionate altercation
between modern thought (tending towards rationalism, individualism and
empiricism), and the mediaeval authority of the scholastic tradition. While the
new concepts of science, education and ethics were fought over, a similar struggle
went on within the Christian Church. Here the parties, split up (in the Protestant
camp as well as in the Catholic) into innumerable sects, opposed each other
implacably. Calvinism, which had taken up with the new idea of state, opposed
Lutheranism, which adhered to the old mediaeval idea, and which, since Melanch-
thon’s days, had grown even more rigidly orthodox. And both attacked and
defended themselves against the fanatical ecclesia militans, the Societas Jesu,
which made use of political absolutism for its own ends.
The controversy which ensued between the contesting parties lacked all con
tinuity with the past and broke with tradition at every point. The polemic
and the struggle were carried on, not only between parties of one common
language and one common sphere of interest, but even within the parties them
selves; and this it was that made confusion worse confounded. Thus the nobility
and the priesthood joined forces against the dynasties for political reasons. The
dynasties themselves (with Louis XIV at their head) fostered a splendid and
luxurious culture, in order to stifle the reproaches which were coming from the
various denominations (e.g. the Huguenots). The Protestant denominations
joined the struggle armed with the ideas of the new science (Bayle), which they
used against political absolutism for religious ends. Protestantism again drew
for its strength on the Peripatetics and on Melanchthon, in order to challenge the
Jesuits with their Aristotelian schooling the more effectively. And the Jesuits, in
their turn, assailed Jansenists and Oratorians, who were schooled in St. Augus
tine. The rationalist element of the new science permeated religious feeling and
created the Protestant mysticism of Boehme. Spener and Francke, the voices of
German pietism, attempted in their own spheres to overcome the absolutist
spirit of the time. Calvinism on the other hand compromised with this spirit,
and created a Protestant ecclesia militans, the bellicose puritanism of the English
Independents.
Within the new philosophical movement itself there flared up a conflict of
antithetic principles. Significant of this conflict was the dualism between the
intellectual and natural categories, which, since Descartes’s enquiry, had divided
the educated classes into two hostile camps. For from now on there existed not
only a ius divinum and a ius naturale; an esprit de géomètre and an esprit de
finesse; a vérité de raison and a vérité de fait; revealed theology and natural
theology; from now on, too, there were two kinds of European politics—the
politics of the feudal Estates and of the dynasties.
The most characteristic trait of the age following upon the Thirty Years’
War was its attempt to overcome all conflicts by an exertion of the will. And
this exertion was to be found not only in the systematic constructions of philo
sophy, but also in a practical, quasi-stoic attitude towards the will. In philosophy
itself the rational will carried with it the impetus towards the construction of
systems, and the formulation of a metaphysic of the will became the most urgent
philosophical task of the age. The will was manifest in the natural sciences;
here Kepler and Newton were soon to establish a universal mechanical theory
with its concepts of force, motion and space. It appeared in theology, for here
the dualism of Will and Grace focused the scholars’ attention once again on the
doctrines of Predestination of St. Augustine and Calvin, and Loyola’s dogma
tism of the will gave a new lease of life to the Catholic Church; and here, too,
Leibnitz’s idea of a reunion of the Churches as an act of the good will appeared
as a possible solution of the conflict. Again, this exertion of the will appeared
in the realm of education, where stoic ideals and conduct were influential; it
was manifest in the poetry of Corneille and Gryphius; and, finally, it was to be
seen in the legal realm and in the day-to-day life of ordinary citizens, who now
became politically conscious as they had never been before.
THE CONTROVERSY IN GENERAL 17
This, then, was an age in which values came to be designated in terms of
the Self, and in which the will became the sole criterion of all activity. The con
temporary mind saw man surrounded by perils and launched into the world
in some haphazard and incomprehensible manner. The individual human
being was now postulated as the ultimate value and measure of all things ; and
the age took it as its particular task to make this individual secure and conscious
of himself. This act of self-assertion in a period of crises was interpreted as a
conscious act of the will. At all levels, therefore, the controversy endeavoured
to formulate a valid ontology, a ‘ constitution of being ’, in terms of ratio and
voluntas. The controversy was not merely concerned with a political system
that would guarantee the peace of a particular country or of Europe; nor
with clerical improvements; nor even with a reunion of the Churches that
would secure for the bewildered Christian the threatened unity of knowledge
and faith. The ultimate aim of the contemporary controversy was an ethical
and moral reconstitution of individual man. Like Calderon’s Prince, man was
to encounter fate coolly and in a composed manner; neither he nor society
were to be unhinged by the great contradictions that tore reason and sentiment
apart. The freedom of the individual will, which informed all critical thinking,
was to be asserted not only against the traditions, dogmas and prejudices of
the past, but also against a sinister future. It was this concept of the freedom
of the will that enabled men to surrender their old convictions in the belief that
they would soon hold the future, their political and religious fate, in their own
hands. Thus Hobbes attempted to shackle the Leviathan with an abstract
natural law ; and thus Leibnitz and Malebranche, in their theodicies, attempted
to calculate and determine God’s rational plan for man, and the relation it
implied between divine promise and Grace. To postulate and to maintain a
faith in reasonableness as the foundation of all things was an act of one and the
same will.
The grand revision about to take place concerned the concepts of law, of
the state, of the Christian tradition; man himself, his language, his position as
a citizen of the state and of the world—all these were the topics of the discussion.
Either the past order of a Paradise Lost was to be restored, or a new and original
order, that of the Leviathan, was to be instituted. Traditionalism and the spirit
of the Reformation belonged to the past; both were schools of thought based
upon a continuity or discontinuity of the historical consciousness. The reformist
mode of thinking in particular, with its historically unparalleled emphasis upon
religious fervour, was attempting solutions which had been tried and had mis
carried long before. Underneath the conflicting claims of the conservative and
the revolutionary orders of thought there was, in actual fact, nothing but chaos
and strife. It is only when we bear in mind this contemporary experience of
strife and of the suffering it entailed, and the acute and unprecedented nature
of this experience, that we can understand the intensity of this will to an orderly
and systematic mode of thinking, which seemed to anticipate no disappointment.
The number and magnitude of revolutionary discoveries in the realm of reason
which were made within this brief period and this narrow space, is truly astonish
ing. In the second half of the century, at the height of the crisis, there were born
the great philosophical systems of Leibnitz, Spinoza, Hobbes and Malebranche;
mathematics and analysis were developed by Fermat, Wallis, Newton, Leibnitz
and Bernoulli. The new directions which were given to astronomy by Newton
and Halley; to mechanics by Huygens and Newton; to acoustics by Mersenne,
Rouhault and Sauveur; to chemistry by Boyle, Stahl and Boerhaave—these
new directions remain valid to the present day. And finally, it was the age of
French—Racine’s—classicism, and with Bach and Haendel the first great peak
of Western music was reached. No European country can be excluded from this
great exertion of the mind and spirit of man. Beyond and independently of the
increase in numbers and disruption of individual states, a European culture was
being formed. It seems that later generations hardly noticed the flaw in the
foundations of this great intellectual activity. Yet this flaw is unmistakably
manifest in the way in which this experience of a chaotic reality, impelled the
abstract will to institute a rationalist order of the world.
It will now be our aim to localize the contemporary controversy in its dif
ferent areas, and to examine this quest up to the point where it enters Leibnitz’s
own life. We shall have to follow not merely the historical contradictions, but
the practical experiences of the age. These experiences, these concretely ex
perienced arguments, threatened the logical and methodological foundations of
Leibnitz’s reflection, and constantly violated his ‘ will to system ’. In the course
of these arguments he came to understand his own personal problems, which, in
his contact with the external world, he endeavoured to hide, and, in the intimacy
of his own mind, to harmonize with his philosophical system. But his critical
conscience gave him no peace to the last; he never attained to the philosophical
eudaimonia for which he so passionately strove ; to the end of his days his con
science remained in conflict with his powerful self-assertion. There are many
hints of this inner strife in his letters, even though he was forever intent upon
retaining a balanced frame of mind.
CHAPTER II
FROM THE FRO N D E TO ABSOLUTISM

1
The theoretical and actual dispute between the universalism of the Empire
and the individualism of the states—both of which aimed at securing the peace—
resulted during the seventeenth century in a series of wars infrequently inter
rupted by brief periods of peace. At the centre of the political struggle between
the individual will and the will of the community stood the monarch and the
Estates. Although they remained dependent upon each other, the controversy
between them was suddenly broken off at the beginning of the seventeenth
century. In France the Estates-General had shown themselves superior to the
combined forces of state and bourgeoisie, and the French Crown did not convoke
them after 1614. In England Charles I attempted after 1628 to rule without
Parliament. Germany witnessed the outbreak of the Thirty Years’ War. The
immediate cause of the war was an attempt of the Bohemian Estates to depose
the House of Hapsburg—and their power was terribly crushed by the execu
tions of 1621. The war had a profound religious significance; but apart from
this, its aim had been to bring to a head the conflict between Imperial power
and the Great Fronde of the Grand Electors on one hand, and the individual
Princes and the Small Fronde on the other. In Spain the war against the Bour
bons had greatly reinforced the powers of the absolute state, embodied in the
principle of dynasty and opposed by the Cortes. In all European states the
controversy between the political parties was broken off by the ruling houses; the
Estates were either not convoked at all or else their powers reduced to mere sham.
The monarchs relied no longer upon the traditional legal system, but on the
new legal concept of raison d'état, the concept of the common weal (salus publica),
which demanded concentration of power in the hands of a single sovereign.
The assertion of the individual will—opposed to thé will of the community—
led to the breach; and the strife, which in the West took the form of the fronde,
broke out everywhere almost simultaneously. In the years 1668-1670, when
Leibnitz began to be interested in matters relating to the ‘ political constellation ’
of the time, the strife was already past its climax. Estates against absolute state
—this was the chief controversy of his time; having reflected on the dispute in
his own mind, his aim was to solve it theoretically in accordance with the status
of his unhappy country, and to achieve in Germany a practical balance between
the two contesting forces.
It is characteristic of this controversy that the sovereigns themselves stepped
into the background of events, leaving government and the fate of the Western
world in the hands of individual statesmen. In Madrid the ruler was Count
Olivarez—the most powerful personality of the Europe of his time. He was
opposed in Germany by Wallenstein (d. 1634), defender of the Imperial idea,
and in France by Richelieu (d. 1642), defender of the idea of the absolute state.
Later there followed Mazarin (d. 1661) in France, Cromwell (d. 1658) in Eng
land, and Oxenstierna (d. 1654) in Sweden. The * great statesmen ’ grafted the
new idea of the absolute state on the traditional institution of Kingship, which,
19
in the middle of the seventeenth century, had regained its old powers and had
bestowed on modern absolutism the religious sanction of the mediaeval concept
of ‘ the divine right of Kings \ The idea of the statesman as mediator was fully
alive in Leibnitz’s own mind when he endeavoured to play the part of a premier
ministre in the manner of Mazarin at the courts of the Dukes of Hanover and
Brunswick.
Let us now look briefly at the fronde itself. The fate of Germany, decided by
the Thirty Years’ War, lay in Wallenstein’s hands. He continued in the tradition
of Charles Y, in the myth of Empire. Since Charles’s abdication in 1556, the
powers of the Imperial Estates had become absolute; during his first campaign
Wallenstein opposed the Estates, standing resolutely for the Emperor and his
absolute Imperial state. Like Richelieu in France, Wallenstein saw the Princes
as rebels (Leibnitz too shared this conception) who were to be deposed, and
whose territories were to be confiscated. And at the height of his power, at the
end of the year 1629, when he was master of the military situation of Germany,
Wallenstein is said to have remarked in a discussion that he was anxious to see
the Emperor sovereign in his own country, like the King of France and Spain.
The Imperial Diet of Ratisbon, 1630—at which Wallenstein was not present—was
carried by th s fronde of the Great Electors against the Emperor; by threatening
Ferdinand with deposition (Louis XIII was to be enthroned in his stead), the
fronde forced Wallenstein to surrender his command. From that moment on
wards Wallenstein (like Turenne in France) began to side more and more with
the Estates. The ultimate outcome of his desertion was the end of the Imperial
state in Germany.
Yet precisely at this time circumstances were once more favourable to it.
For in 1641 (the year of Galileo’s death) the decisive battle between state-
absolutism and the Estates broke out in Spain, France and England. The
Cortes of almost all the Spanish provinces rose up against Olivarez. As to
England, it is important to separate the constitutional struggle (waged between
the King and the gentry in control of the House of Commons) from the religious
issue. But the growing opposition of the lower classes against Cromwell—which
forced him to resort to military dictatorship—and the popularity of the Restora
tion of 1660 show to what extent the fall of the Kingdom had been caused by
constitutional and social rather than religious issues. When Charles I—‘ tyrant,
traitor, murderer and enemy of the Commonwealth ’—was executed on January
30th 1649, there was a revolution in Paris also, which forced the royal family
into exile. As in England, the republic was proclaimed. Had Cardinal de Retz
been more like Cromwell, it is possible that the party of the Estates might have
overthrown Mazarin. But quarrels between the conspirators, their treasonable
alliance with Spain, the traditional enemy, and the tyrannical régime they insti
tuted in France, eventually (in 1653) gained for Mazarin the victory. The last
revolt against the absolutism of the Crown was quelled.
The fronde was an intestine controversy. Upon its outcome depended not
only the internal fate of individual states, their future constitutions, but also
the international controversy; and it was this altercation between the various
powers which dominated the second half of the seventeenth century. Neither
the absolutist nor the constitutional solution of the conflict was capable of
overcoming the crisis. Even after the treaties of Münster and Osnabrück the
peace remained precarious.
The outcome of the fronde was, first, the absolute and individual state,
developing increasingly into a power-state; and secondly, the European system
F R O M T H E F R O N D E TO A B SO L U T ISM 21
of powers. What has come to be known as the European balance of powers
has its equivalent in the idea of sovereignty as held by Francis I. But inherent in
the concept of sovereignty is the concept of homogeneity; for only states that
are fundamentally similar, and whose sovereignties are equivalent, can form a
comity of European powers. Exceptionally small members which represented
no power—such as Holland, Burgundy or Switzerland—relinquished by their
very nature their claims to statehood. Exceptionally large members—France
and England—suspended the sovereignty of their neighbours potentially, in so
far, that is, as the latter were unable to withstand their attack. This dangerous
antinomy between power and sovereignty upset permanently the balance of the
new European system. The securitas publica became the most disquieting
problem of the time. And this is most clearly seen in the relation between
France and the United Netherlands, and between France and constitutionless
Germany. From the enthronement of Louis XIV in 1661 onwards the peculiar
and precarious relation of the ‘ overpowering * part to the European whole
became the main political dilemma of the age. This dilemma—which, at the
beginning of the sixteenth century, we found expressed in rather different terms
—represents the essential crisis of the West. How was this increasingly acute
crisis to be overcome? Which institution, what court was capable of guarantee
ing the common peace and the safety of individual European countries?
To these urgent questions—which were asked not only in the political realm,
but in the cultural and religious realms as well—the age gave a single decisive
answer; its answer was an ultimate appeal to the ‘ reasonableness’ of man.
Man now stands alone; he is stripped of his traditional bonds and obligations;
he feels himself to be the measure of all things; it is he who fashions the world.
This anthropocentric rational faith created its new forms of political life. And
in this sense it is possible to-speak of a Cartesian revolution in politics as well as
in philosophy and science. The revolution took place not only in the concepts
of state and nature (where it brought with it the doctrines of the absolute state
and of natural law): the idea of international obligation too had changed (as
is reflected in Grotius’s doctrine of international law). Natural law changed the
concept of the state in three ways: first as regards the origins of the state,
secondly as regards its purpose, and thirdly as to the extent and content of its
power. While in the Middle Ages the law of the state had been derived from
Canon Law; while, further, the Reformation had acknowledged the powers
that be as ordained of God, natural law now attempted to explain the state
entirely from natural causes. The state, it argued, owes its existence to an associa
tion of men endowed with a will and with the power of reflection—ratio et
voluntas—for the purpose of organizing themselves into a natural and reason
able order. The foundation of society is the ius naturale as it emerges from
reason; this natural law is entirely independent of the religious faith of men, it
does not enter into the religious dispute. And this entirely secular deduction of
the concept of state is closely linked with a changed view of its purpose. It is
true that Luther had already voiced the view that the state should restrict its
jurisdiction entirely to worldly matters; but this idea was not given effect until
Leibnitz’s age. Only now did the raison d'état and the common weal {le bien
public) become the highest ends of the modern state. But Leibnitz himself
connected these ends with the religious idea of the Reformation; to him the
highest end of the state was the glorification of God.
The third aspect of the modern state, the problem of its absolute sovereignty,
was not clearly solved in the religious reflection of Leibnitz; for in his view
Church and state wielded an equal authority. He hoped to resolve the struggle
for supremacy by a theory of balance. This idea of the balance of powers—
the scales are the appropriate symbol of the rationalistic, age of tolerance—is
also to be found in the dispute concerning the potestas clavium, a dispute whose
very occurrence presupposed a complete change in men’s conception of the
Church. To the Middle Ages the Church had been a divine institution, a divinely
instituted means of salvation. It now became a community, a fellowship of
men of one denomination, of men feeling the same religious needs. What had
once been the sacred unity of the Church now became a profane plurality of
religious societies held together by a common agreement, such as the Triden-
tinum or the Augsburg Confession. Only with regard to the similar derivations
of the concepts of Church and state is it possible to speak here of a balance of
powers or values ; for it is the unaided ‘ divine reason ’ inherent in the nature
of man which was now called upon to weigh and determine this balance. Apart
from Samuel Pufendorf (1631-1694), Christian Thomasius (1655-1728) and J.
H. Boehmer (1670-1748) it was Leibnitz who entered most fully upon the debate
concerning natural law; his adversaries were Grotius, Hobbes, Spinoza and
Locke, its adherents abroad.
In domestic as well as in foreign politics a new relationship was postulated
between the individual and the state, and between the states themselves. France
was the first country to realize and to put into practice this new relationship;
and thus she became the leading country on the Continent. The predominance
of France in Europe since 1660 was not only political but also cultural (French
now became the language of polite society everywhere) and philosophical. The
Cartesian revolution of Western philosophy has remained the clearest indication
of this fact. The political constitutions of the past, the social order of the feudal
Estates with the respublica Christiana as its highest political principle, stood
from now on in direct opposition to the new rationalist constructions of the
age; they in their turn were no more capable of securing the common peace of
Europe or the internal unity of individual states.
2
The results of this Cartesian revolution in politics are diverse and dissimilar.
Thus the struggle between the Estates and the dynasty in France and Spain
ended with the defeat of the former, but entailed a victory of the Bourbons over
the Hapsburgs, whose Spanish branch lost gradually in importance. ‘ Hispani
civiliter mortui ’, Leibnitz remarked laconically in his political reflections of
1670. And this development also took place in the vassal states of France: in
Sweden, which, owing to its financial difficulties, depended increasingly upon
Louis XIV ; in Poland—‘ the Spain of the East ’ as Leibnitz called it in his
Memorandum on the Election o f the Polish King (1669); and among the German
territorial Princes. The circumstances were different in the territory of the late
German Empire, and in Holland and England, the two sea-powers. Under
Jan de Witt the Dutch Republic maintained its position as a great power, and
after the Peace of Breda in 1667 considerably enlarged its colonial empire. But
the antagonism between the ruling town-dwelling aristocracy and the supporters
of the House of Orange (whose members were since 1654 completely excluded
from all high public offices) became more and more acute as time went on, and
was reflected in the social and religious controversies. And when Louis XIV in
1672 began his campaign against the States-General, this antagonism led to an
internal crisis. In England the fronde in Parliament subjugated the state and the
kingdom, and made its own victory permanent by the 4glorious revolution ’ of
1688. Locke became its philosopher, and it is in the light of this fact that we
must see the subsequent attack of Leibnitz—a Baron of the Empire—upon the
empiricism of Locke’s political philosophy. As to the German Empire, the
Peace of Westphalia established both the English system of the relation of
powers (favouring the Great Fronde against the Emperor), and the French
system (favouring the Princes against the Small Fronde). From 1648 onwards
it was the Estates in the Imperial Diet of Ratisbon which ruled the Empire, but
in their own territories government lay in the hands of the dynasties of Princes.
From 1648 onwards the German Empire and the English Kingdom were mere
names, names surrounded by the hispanic splendour of early Baroque; yet
Leibnitz, like Hobbes, was a political nominalist. Individual German Princes
—e.g. Leibnitz’s first patron, John Frederick Duke of Hanover—and the leading
families of the English aristocracy—whom Hobbes accompanied into exile in
Paris—succumbed to the fashions set by Paris; politically as well as culturally
their small-scale absolutism was an image of the style of Versailles.
In international politics an entirely new situation was created; for only now
did a policy on a European scale begin to be formulated. There had been but
few connections between the Western, Central and Eastern European wars of
the sixteenth century; their courses had hardly affected each other. But during
the Thirty Years’ War and the Scandinavian campaign close interrelations
were established, particularly as a consequence of French alliances and of
French colonial policy. Countries and crowns became figures on the chessboard
of Europe, figures which could be moved or exchanged at the will of each player.
This kind of international politics was as yet directed in almost every instance
by individual rulers, it bore the mark of dynasty. In hardly any other period of
modern history was the part played by the 4republican states ’ so insignificant
as in this era of absolutism. Treaties, coalitions, alliances, princely marriages
and even the reputation and fame of a prince now became the chief influences
in politics; and it was these factors which gave diplomacy its great current
importance. The art of diplomacy became the art par excellence. And Louis’s
supremacy in this art became manifest to all at the Congress of Nymwegen in
1678. For it was solely upon diplomacy that he had to rely in order to assert
there his own interests against a European coalition; thus, by tying down the
Spanish in Italy, the Emperor in Hungary, and the armies of Brandenburg in
their own Mark (which was threatened by a Swedish invasion), he eventually
succeeded in dissolving the coalition by diplomatic means. At this Congress
each of his enemies concluded a separate peace with him—first the Estates-
General, last of all Brandenburg and Denmark. The Bourbon King was now at
the very summit of his power. He was the true 4arbiter of Europe ’, the true
master of the favourite art of his age.
The art was subtle and elegant, and its effects far-reaching. Russia, the
North American colonies, even the Indian states were drawn into its orbit;
the mere weight of a startling combination of states, when brought to bear
upon an entirely different part of the world, was capable of deciding great
issues. And this cunning game, with its strict rules, its alliances and congresses,
received at that time a significant name; it was called 4the concert of the Euro
pean Powers ’. The Wars of the Fronde eventually developed into the Wars of
Succession. All these were wars decided upon in Cabinet meetings and fought
out in a gentlemanly fashion by small armies. To be politically à la hauteur
meant to be perfectly at home in the game of diplomatic combinations; the art
of diplomacy was closely connected with mathematics, the favourite science of
the age. An inner connection obtains between the Ars Combinatoria—the first
philosophical masterpiece of the young Leibnitz—and his political memoranda
written during his stays at Mainz and Hanover; among them is the Memoran
dum on the Election o f the Polish King, in which Poland’s place in the European
constellation of powers was worked out in a quasi-mathematical fashion. Not
only philosophy and theology, but also politics were treated more geometrico.
Everything that could not be expressed with mathematical exactitude was con
sidered to be out-moded; and this applied especially to the idea and reality of
the German Empire. The rational and political constitution of the absolutist
state, on the other hand, the constitution of France, was seen to be in harmony
with the spirit of the age. Since 1660 political calculations had become fashion
able; thus in 1690 there was published in London a book by the economist
Sir William Petty, entitled Political Arithmetic. The method of these political
enquiries, which had become popular in England with the Restoration, was in
spired not by religion or morals, but (as might be expected in this age of the
great French and English scientists) by mathematics and physics.21
‘ U exactitude est la politesse des Rois\ This maxim of Louis XVIII is an
exact description of the absolute state which Louis XIV had created in France.
His régime represented a dangerous extension of the Cartesian concept of reason
ableness into the realm of politics. Unconsciously but consistently political
absolutism began to translate the Cartesian mode of thought into the activities
of the court; exactitude and politesse were symbols of the age itself. And this
is true even though the King himself banned the teaching of Descartes’s doc
trine at the Collège Royal in 1665 and at the Universities of Paris in 1671. For
where the King claimed the sole and exclusive right to philosophy, there the
philosopher had no choice but either to acquiesce or to leave the country;
Descartes decided upon the latter. Even though the age itself was not clearly
aware of it, there exists a close link between political absolutism and Cartesian
rationalism. Leibnitz himself at any rate felt the dangerous consequences of
Cartesianism in political life. He experienced the dangers to liberty in Europe
and to the securitas publica which emanated from the court of Louis XIV; he
opposed Cartesianism, and not only for religious reasons; it therefore seems
probable that he connected the one with the other.22
'J'hree properties characterize the new state. First, the centralization of all
powers in one place—Versailles—and in the hands of one person—Louis XIV;
secondly, the unification of law, economics and fiscal policy—in Colbert’s mer
cantilism; lastly, the fusion of state and science—in the Académie des Sciences,
and of state and Church—in the Gallican Articles. The administration of
the state was strict and centralised. Intent upon suppressing, by means of an
autocratic monarchy, all guilds and Estates and their characteristic anomalies
and local associations in the various provinces, the state succeeded in creating
a ’ classical ’ style informing language, literature and the arts, a style which to
this day remains representative of French culture. The essential affinities between
absolutism and classicism are unmistakable. The predominance, in classicism, of
the concept of rule is analogous to the function of the monarch’s will in absolu
tism, the Art de Penser of the Port Royal is analogous to Boileau’s Art Poétique.
The classical rule is as it were the depersonalized will within the context of a
logical and aesthetic system; ratio and voluntas are the new virtues of man.
F R O M T H E F R O N D E TO A B S O L U T IS M 25
The centralization of power within one area—‘ VEtat c'est Moi ’—was most
obvious in the realm of politics. But Leibnitz’s work shows us concretely that
this concept of centralization also determined practical and theoretical reflection
outside France. As a practical lawyer it was his aim—from early manhood on
wards—to codify the traditional legal system, and to organize it in a mathemati
cal fashion ; this aim he formulated in a letter to the Emperor written in August
1671.23 And during his stay in Mainz (and even later, in Hanover), his whole
endeavour was concentrated upon turning this plan into practice. This was the
background of his Corpus iuris reconcinnatum, and also of his early plans for an
Academy (1670). These plans by far surpassed Colbert’s intentions, for in Leib
nitz’s work the fusion of state and science was advocated not merely for political
and economic reasons, but also for the sake of religion. In the Academy—and
not only in the courts—Leibnitz saw the real centre of both the new state and of
the reunited Church. His religious-scientific Academy was to give a new lease of
life to the constitution of an Empire which, after the Peace of Westphalia, had
become a mere chimera. With the foundation of the Berlin Academy in 1700,
Leibnitz believed, this rebirth had taken place. The situation was not unlike
the crisis in the Athenian constitution, which Plato, at the end of his life, sought
to solve by founding his own Academy.24 It is the intellectual and religious
aspect of the idea of Empire which is emphasized in Leibnitz’s work; and this
idea lives on in his philosophy as ‘ the Realm of intelligible truths ’.
This centralization of power within one area (which we have here considered
in its imperialistic aspect) Leibnitz invested with a metaphysical significance.
The Monadology, a description of his age in theoretical terms, was an outcome
of his philosophical reflection on this political process. The monad is the pivot
of spiritual and intellectual forces, it is an expression of the contemporary
political, intellectual and religious modes of existence. It is a pivotal point,
acted upon by the elemental quantity of force and by the psychic quantity of
the will. As such it is a concept familiar to Leibnitz’s contemporaries, for it is
analogous to the 6sun-kingdom ’ of Louis XIV, itself the centre of all secular,
intellectual and spiritual realms. The monad is, further, a mathematical and
metaphysical ‘ point ’. As such it remains a notional concept, no less adequate
for that as an interpretation and account of existence. Like mathematical
mysticism from Valentin Weigel to the Cherubinische Wandersmann, it answers
a need of, and is contingent upon, the age in which it was conceived. Thus both
the modern state and the new science are given in Leibnitz’s work their meta
physical foundation and their religious sanction. But the formal structure of this
metaphysics is equally involved in the idea of scientific progress. For mathe
matics has burst open its Euclidian confines—partially in Descartes’s work and
fully with Leibnitz’s infinitesimal calculus—and before it lies a multitude of
unpredictable new possibilities. The consequences of Leibnitz’s attempt to give
the state a metaphysical foundation do not become manifest until after the turn
of the century; the form they eventually assume is the dangerous and at last
disastrous over-emphasis of the political self-consciousness of man.
In the past, the traditional symbol of European government had been the
ellipse. It is significant that Church and state—its traditional foci—now move
towards each other. From time to time they even coincide in one focal point.
This point need no longer be Rome; Paris, London or any other baroque
metropolis serves equally well to ‘ represent ’ Europe. Thus the image symbolic
of the age is no longer the ellipse, but the circle. And never before had European
thinkers been so stubbornly and passionately intent upon 4 squaring ’ this circle;
never before, that is, had there been such a consistent and passionate attempt
at reaching a rational solution and elucidations of contemporary problems by
means of mysticism and philosophy, mathematics and politics. But many anxious
questions lie hidden behind this mathematical passion: Should not this centrali
zation of power in the hands of an absolute sovereign be replaced by a more equi
table form of government? How could such a change be effected, and justified?
This centralization of state and Church is the object of the struggle in which
the forces of imperialism are spent. Because he has to suffer its consequences
in his everyday life, Leibnitz transfers the idea of this imperialism into the
world of the intellect. Throughout his life he is anxious to safeguard his own
personal freedom against the attacks of the power-state and of Church dogma ;
and in his Academy he hopes to build a haven for this freedom. This is the con
tent of his faith; and this faith he defends conscientiously—but sometimes also
‘ diplomatically without very much courage—against the secular and spiritual
princes, against Louis XIV and Bossuet. Out of these concepts of individual
freedom and personal faith (which Leibnitz’s contemporaries pledge themselves
to defend against every autonomous power) is built the new ideology of toler
ance, which gradually spreads to all the countries of Europe. The threat to
freedom in its most radical form is part of Leibnitz’s experience ; let us, there
fore, look more closely at the political aspects of this threat.
The abolute claims of the monarchic order soon began to disturb the balance
of France’s external and internal forces. With the revocation of the Edict of
Nantes in 1685 and with the expulsion of the Huguenots25—which Jacob Burck-
hardt has called 4the greatest sacrifice ever offered to the moloch of “ unity ”,
or rather to the royal conception of power ’—with these two acts there now
broke out a conflict between power and conscience, between the state and the
individual—4le glaive et la conscience ' ; the outcome of the conflict was a
pathetic indictment of the contemporary state of affairs. The splendid unity
of King and state fell asunder and was revealed (even as early as the ’eighties)
as a terrible and bloody illusion. The opposition took refuge in the freedom-
loving Dutch Republic. From 1686 to 1689 the Huguenot Pierre Jurieu raised
his voice in his Lettres pastorales aux Fidèles qui gémissent sous la Captivité de
Babylon, and proclaimed the right to revolt against the King: ‘ L 'usage du
glaive des princes ne s'étend pas sur les consciences: Louis X IV ayant usé du
glaive pour forcer les consciences s'est mis hors loi: la révolte est désormais
légitime ’. The Augustinian compelle intrare invoked by Bossuet and carried
into effect by the King, summoned the whole North to opposition; in 1692
Leibnitz wrote to Bossuet: ‘ Maintenant, c'est quasi tout le nord qui s'oppose au
sud de l'Europe; c'est la plus grande partie des peuples germaniques opposés aux
Latins.'26 For Leibnitz was concerned, not with a domestic or national schism,
but with the problem of European and Continental disintegration.
In France itself the protesting voice of conscience was heard; in 1699 Féne
lon was bold enough to write of the King:
Son pouvoir a b so lu fait autant d’esclaves qu’il a des sujets. On le flatte, on fait sem
blant de l’adorer, on tremble au moindre de ses regards; mais attendez la moindre révolu
tion: cette puissance monstrueuse, poussée jusqu’à un excès trop violent, ne saurait durer;
elle n’a aucune ressource dans le co eu r d e s p e u p le s ; elle a lassé et irrité tous les corps de
l’Etat, elle contraint tous les membres dece corps de soupirer après un changement.
Au premier coup qu’on lui porte, l’idole se renverse, se brise et est foulée aux pieds.27
These are indeed surprising words from a Catholic priest at the Court of Ver
sailles. Not only Protestants, but all who felt their freedom of thought endan
F R O M T H E F R O N D E TO A B SO LU TISM 27
gered, now looked upon Louis as the leader of a new Counter-Reformation.
Pierre Bayle began a violent propaganda campaign from Holland against the
absolute institutions of Church and state, and against the King, whom he called
a 4brigand-chief \
With the death of Colbert in 1683 the economic order of the French State
lay in ruins; in 1680 the national deficit had been forty-seven million livres;
and the great famine of 1694 finally revealed the economic bankruptcy of mer
cantilism. Pierre le Pesant de Boisguilbert in his book Le Détail de France
(1695) described the catastrophe unsparingly and called for a return to the old
system; and La Bruyère’s sarcastic comments on the social order—4il n’y a
pas de patriotisme sous le régime despotique ’—are well known.28
It was Louis’s attack (in 1672) upon the 4nation of fishwives and trades
men ’—as he called the Dutch Republic—which opened the eyes of the world
to the sinister dynamic power of the modern state. The anxious concern of
Europe was voiced in a vast literature of pamphlets and broadsheets, to which
Leibnitz contributed with his Mars Christianissimus of 1683. And yet, these
pamphlets represented only individual and isolated voices; their exhortations
of the Princes of Europe to oppose the common danger by a united front re
mained unheeded; for what these pamphlets had to say the Princes knew well
and considered outmoded. Among these cautioning pamphleteers was the
Austrian diplomat Franz Paul von Lisola. In his masterly polemic Bouclier
d ’Estât et de Justice (written as early as 1667, that is, soon after the 4War of
Devolution ’ with the Spanish Netherlands), Lisola had likened Louis’s actions
to 4 the course of a violent torrent and-had pointed out th a t4every subterfuge
is but a cloak which hides the true force that sets in motion this machine o f
state, and under a semblance of justice gives the reins to a spirit of ambition,
which hastens towards its goal, the Universal Monarchy Lisola’s book and his
shrewd political insight were of great importance for Leibnitz’s work. In his
own political pamphlets he attempted to emulate the brilliant stylist, whose
name he mentions repeatedly; and from the fact that Leibnitz even mentions
one of his own books—his Mars Christianissimus—in connection with Lisola’s
writings we may conclude that he wished in a sense to continue Lisola’s work.29
Leibnitz’s contemporaries seem to have put just such hopes in his political writ
ings, but he never reached the brilliance of his exemplar.30 Lisola was a diplomat
with a constant experience of practical affairs; behind his skilful and highly
persuasive writings there lies the entire world of contemporary political thinking
and feeling. Leibnitz’s political works, on the other hand, appear somewhat
vague, laboured and pernickety.
The political reality of 4Christendom ’ was declining; the feeling of Euro
pean solidarity expressed in that term was on the wane. All the 4parts ’ of
Europe—her nations—aimed at absolute 4 sovereignty ’—a term which derives
from the political theory of Jean Bodin. This sovereignty could only be attained
at the expense of 4the whole ’ ; and this, the Christian whole, was undermined
from all sides by a spirit of 4individual inwardness \ Not only states but indi
vidual men strove for freedom from schools of thought and from dogma. For
the majority of the greater powers as well as for many small ones, France be
came the intellectual and political model in which they saw their own struggle
for national sovereignty successfully concluded. There now began a veritable
race for the power that is inherent in sovereignty; and the term 4war of all
against all ’ expresses the actual state of affairs. Everywhere—if only for reasons
of security—the absolute power-state was being imitated. As far as the relation
ship between the state and trade and production is concerned, Louis himself
had misused Colbert’s economic system for the sake of sheer exploitation of
the people. What we now find are (as Jacob Burckhardt said) 4coercive indus
tries, coercive colonies, a coercive navy and a coercive culture—in all of which
the German sultans imitated their French exemplars as best they could ’ ; and
so, we would add, did the Emperor in Vienna and the last Stuarts in London.
3
But it was in Germany that the disruption was worst. For in Germany no
clear decision had ever been reached on the issue between the mediaeval idea of
Empire and the modern idea of State; and this confusion of political orders
prevented the country from ever forming a unified state in the French sense of
the word. The political situation of the Empire—governed partly by the Imperial
Diet and partly by the dynasty—remained desperate both abroad and at home.
In the West the threat came from Louis’s guerres de magnificence, in the East
from the Turks, whose enormous empire now included the whole of the North
African shore, the Near East, the Balkans, and the countries of the Lower
Danube reaching almost as far north as Vienna. Both these aggressor-states
menaced the area of Central Europe, often simultaneously and in secret con
nivance. Thus in 1681 Strasbourg was taken by the French, and in the following
years, when Kara Mustapha besieged Vienna, Louis established his notorious
Chambres de Réunions.
Yet the external impotence of the Empire was but a consequence of its in
ternal strife and dissolution. The political myth of Empire had no longer any
reality. It was to be recreated on a philosophical plane in the future Academy ;
and in the hands of its future founder Leibnitz, the myth was to be turned into
a scientific social doctrine. Out of the political crisis there arose the need for
the founding of a very different empire, for a non-political 4imperium ad com-
mune bonum The concept of unity within manifoldness, of 4uni-versality ’ in
its literal meaning, had utterly failed in the world of politics; it was.now to be
recreated in intellectual terms. The useless old concept of integration was to
be replaced by intellectual concentration, by scientific universality. This is the
conclusion Leibnitz drew from the political crisis of the Empire. How then,
we may ask, did this political crisis affect him, what was his own experience of
the Empire ?
Upon the conclusion of the Peace of Westphalia Germany became a loosely-
knit union of three hundred and fifty-five small states. This union was nominally
held together by an elective monarchy. In practice the states were disunited,
their relations with each other were disrupted; each was intent solely upon
its sovereign self-interest and upon an entirely inconsiderate aggrandisement of
its own powers. Since the recess of the Imperial Diet at Augsburg in 1551, and
since the recognition—consequent upon it—of two Christian denominations
within one Imperial constitution, the line of demarcation between the two
denominations ran through the very middle of the country. Whenever an Im
perial Prince changed his denomination, his whole political outlook, and even
his plans of marriage, changed too. With the recognition—after the Peace of
Westphalia—of the right to maintain their own armies and to conclude their
own treaties, the Princes had discarded the idea of Empire, and replaced it by
their own concept of 4princely liberty ’. With the establishment—since 1663—
of the Imperial Diet as a permanent institution (again and again Leibnitz com
plained of its 4lethargy and drowsiness ’), the Princes took entire control of the
Emperor’s politics; and his powers were now restricted to his own territorial
possessions.
This ‘ outmoded Empire * defied all theory of state. Was Germany still a
monarchy, or was she—as the learned Hippolytus a Lapide thought—an aris
tocracy? The most famous of contemporary German theoreticians, Samuel
Pufendorf (who in 1667 published the first edition of his De Statu Imperii Ger-
manici under the pseudonym 6 Severinus de Monzambano ’) was unable to
classify the 4 Empire ’ historically, and called i t 4an irregular formation resembl
ing a monster The Dutch statesman Jan de Witt declared in his polemic of
1664: ‘ The Empire is but a chimera and a skeleton whose parts, held together
not by nerves, but by brass wires, are without any natural movement.’ Where
the savants failed the politicians fared no better. In the European community
of states the Empire ceased to count as a political factor. It had, as Leibnitz
wrote, 4sunk to being the arena in which the battle for the mastery of Europe
was fought out ’. Foreign competition hastened its economic decline, the more
so as the Empire was excluded from all sea-trade. At the suggestion of Johann
Joachim Becher of Hamburg, Leibnitz pleaded in his political memoranda of
the ’seventies for Germany’s active participation in sea-trading.
Let us now see how the formation of political parties inside this 4irregular
monster ’ was affected by its ambiguous status. The idea of Empire survived
among the small estates of Western and Southern Germany. To them the Empire
was the stronghold of Catholicism and of their securitas publica. The idea of
an absolute state, on the other hand, carried almost all the Protestant countries
of the South-East. In Württemberg, in the Electorate of Saxony, in Mecklen-
burgh, and in the territories of the Guelphs, constitutions with provincial diets
were established, but soon again abolished. An Imperial policy in the old sense
was pursued above all by a group of men at Mainz; this group, to which the
young Leibnitz belonged, was formed round the ambitious Elector John
Philip of Schönborn. The petty states in the West adopted the term 4 Empire ’
in a restricted sense. Again and again they made attempts at concluding separate
treaties—which should in no way violate the Imperial Constitution of 1648—
in order to strengthen the cohesion of the whole. They thus hoped to revive
the old order by means of a system of federative alliances ; it was 4a desperate,
an almost impossible enterprise as Leibnitz confessed in his Schwalbach
memorandum of August 1670. This tension between North and South, and
East and West, he experienced at a later date on a European scale; the passage
from his letter to Bossuet (quoted on p. 26) shows that this tension could assume
religious as well as political forms. It was Leibnitz’s aim to mediate in Mainz
between Vienna and Paris.
The military, political and cultural style of the Court at Versailles acted as
a magnet upon the three hundred and fifty-five German states. And not upon
the German states only. The Court of St. James’s, too, under Charles II and
James II, was in every way a faithful copy of Paris. As for Germany, it was the
Great Elector Frederick William who attempted most consistently to put into
effect the modern idea of statehood in the unified state of Brandenburg-Prussia. In
his political testament of 1687 he advised his successor4always to keep the proper
balance ’ between the great powers of Sweden, France and the Hapsburgs. But
he added the famous exhortation, 4Alliances are good, but your own forces are
better ’—a dictum which sums up well the political predicament of the age.
The French cultural and political hegemony in Europe did not go unchal
lenged. In Germany the challenge was thrown out by Christian Thomasius31
and by the older Leibnitz. In Italy, the historian Muratori wrote : ‘ Et nous,
braves Italiens, singes ridicules, nous hâtons de copier les métamorphoses françaises
et toutes les modes françaises comme si elles venaient de la Cour Suprême de
Jupiter.’32 Yet the pressure from the West which was exerted during Leibnitz’s
stay at Mainz was not only military and financial (the latter in the form of
‘ subsidies ’), but above all intellectual and cultural.33 Thus Pierre Bayle, the
spokesman of the educated classes, wrote in 1685:
La langue française est désormais le point de communication de to u s les peuples de
l’Europe, et une langue que l’on pourrait appeler transcendentale par la même raison
qui oblige les philosophes à donner ce titre aux natures qui se répandent et se promènent
dans toutes les catégories.34
Like every cultured German of his age, Leibnitz wrote and thought in French.
The fundamental reason for this cultural hegemony was the victory of the
absolute raison d'état over the tradition-encumbered idea of Empire. France,
the first country to put this raison into practical effect, thus assumed the lead
on the Continent. Within the limits of her natural frontiers she created a more
or less closely defined national institution, which the German Princes, with
their 6limitless * interests and preoccupations, could do no more than reflect
and imitate. They reflected it in the centralization of administration and of the
legal system; in a standing army (the miles perpetuus of the Great Elector);
in their large bureaucracy ; in their love of new projects (from which Leibnitz’s
own schemes benefited); in the luxury of their courts; and in their mistresses
(Augustus II of Saxony). And as their own revenues were usually insufficient
for all this lavish expenditure, the Princes had to look for subsidies. Leibnitz
wrote: ‘ Money is truly an irresistible thing, especially in case of need; and in
Germany this need has become truly regularis and ordinarius.’ The ‘ flashing
gold and silver of the vexatious Kings of France ’ exerted a considerable in
fluence on German political writings of the time, and an Italian diplomat in
1660 called money the means which would secure for the King permanent
alliances with German Princes both great and small. The attempts to imitate
the Sun-kingdom became at times almost grotesque. Thus the Duke of Cour-
land and the Count of Hanau-Lichtenberg voiced a wish to acquire colonies
overseas; and a legal opinion of the law-school at Halle University defended
the reign of mistresses by submitting that ‘ the great Princes are not subject to
the laws designed for private persons, but are called to account by God alone
Germany—a country without a centre and without frontiers—was torn into
some two thousand enclaves ; of these various principalities, republics, bishop
rics and margraviates some three hundred and fifty-five formed sovereign
states. The country suggested a scattered mosaic—the ‘ crux geographorum ’
who had not .enough colours to distinguish between its interlocking territories.
Where, in this chaos, was the Emperor’s place? What had become of Maxi
milian’s Imperial reform, of his plans to divide the Empire into ten districts
(Kreise)!. The highest central monad which governed this profusion of ‘ auto
nomous monads ’ was in fact the King at Versailles. Leopold I in Vienna was a
mere shadow of an Emperor; and up to the dénouement of Louis’s policy in the
Spanish War of Succession he entirely failed to represent the Empire. Only in
the territorial states did political power reside. This may be expressed in Leib
nitz’s own philosophical terms: the territorial state is and has ‘ individual
substance \ it stands in a direct relation to God—in this analogy, Louis XIV,
the sol invictus of the universe.
Thus, towards the end of this baroque age, there were formed, in the North
and East of the mediaeval Empire, two absolute states between which the aged
Leibnitz attempted to mediate : Brandenburg-Prussia on the one hand, Austria-
Hungary on the other; from Hanover he hoped to strike the mean between
Berlin and Vienna. But all thought of a 4pre-established harmony ’ of Imperial
politics had long ago vanished. Within the European concert of powers the,
two power-states represent the victory of absolutism in Germany.
After the death of the Great Elector in 1688 the petty courts of Germany
complained of the ‘ domination of Brandenburg, which penetrates ever more
deeply into the Empire The House* of Hapsburg had found a Protestant
rival. And these two new great powers were followed—albeit at an increasing
distance—by Bavaria, Saxony, Brunswick-Lüneburg, the Palatinate, Württem
berg, and Hesse. The Elector Maximilian I of Bavaria gained for his internally
united country the supremacy in Southern Germany and thus increased the
old hostility to Austria. The Saxon ruling family of Wettin squandered their
own power by constant division of their inherited territories. Ernest Augustus
of Hanover, on the other hand, united the scattered territories of the Guelphs ;
by establishing the right of primogeniture and by means of an aggressive trade-
policy he created the new Hanoverian state. In 1692, during the stormy war
with France, he even succeeded in gaining for his state Electoral dignity and
rights. Leibnitz played an important part in the creation of this absolutist
principality: as a lawyer (with his De lure Suprematus), as an historiographer
(The History o f the Guelphs), as a technician (in the Harz mines), and as a minister
of education.
Austria segregated herself increasingly from the old Empire. Pufendorf had
already remarked that 6everything is so arranged [in Austria] that, were no
Hapsburg to be enthroned there, the country itself could without any difficulty
form an independent state of its own ’ ; and this is what in fact happened as
a consequence of the repulsion of the Turks in 1683. The co-ordination of the
defences on the Danube and on the Rhine was still the concern of Leopold Ys
government. And inasmuch as the idea of these co-ordinated defences was part
of his political plans, the young Leibnitz too may be said to have pursued a
policy of loyalty to the Emperor. After 1690, however, when, without any
opposition from Louis XIV, the Emperor’s first-born son received the Imperial
Crown, relations with France became strained. The Turks were defeated on
the Hungarian battlefields ; but the victory was gained not only without France,
but against France. Kara Mustapha’s offensive was to have secured the Réunions
and French hegemony in Europe; it led in fact to the rise of Austria, which now
became the great power of Central Europe, and to the collapse of the Turks.
The leading figure in Austrian affairs was Prince Eugene of Savoy. Eugene’s
own political and intellectual outlook was similar to Leibnitz’s ; and the meeting
of the two men in Vienna was of great importance to both of them. Both felt
themselves to be Germans, by which they meant that they adhered not only to
a particular nation, but to a certain idea. They were citizens of the Empire, not
citizens of the world—if this latter term is taken to exclude any man deeply
rooted in any one country. And Prince Eugene—like Leibnitz—was more
admired and better understood by women than by men.
After 1683 a European redistribution of power began to take place; this
process was accelerated by the events of the year 1688, when Brandenburg
turned away from France and William of Orange was enthroned as King of
England. William, a man, as Ranke says, ‘ of more or less international char
acter ’, became Louis’s opponent in the political game. He himself once des
cribed the struggle against absolutism and its eventual elimination as his fate
and mission in life. After thirty years of assiduously grappling with the problem,
William at last achieved that aim which the young Leibnitz had striven for dur
ing his early life in Mainz and Paris—the aim, that is, of breaking the Conti
nental hegemony of Louis by means of alliances of all the states that felt them
selves to be threatened by Louis’s policy; and, further, he succeeded in sub
stituting for Louis’s hegemony a European balance of powers.35 William was
a practising Calvinist and an adherent of the idea of tolerance; he countered
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes by proclaiming, in his own country, the
Edict of Toleration (1690). Thus, by including both Protestant and Catholic
countries, the coalition was founded upon the broadest possible basis. And as
regards its anti-French aims, this inter-denominational alliance was entirely
successful. England’s accession to power had its immediate parallel in the realm
of thought too; in the summer of 1687 Newton published his Philosophiae
Naturalis Principia Mathematica, the crowning achievement of that development
of physics and philosophy which had issued from Galileo’s work. Newton
himself, now a leading figure in the intellectual life of England, became a Mem
ber of Parliament for his University. In the same year—it was the year of
William’s accession to the throne—Newton met John Locke, who was later to
become his closest friend.
The translator of Addison’s Cato, Abel Boyer, wrote in his 1713 Preface to
that work:
La langue anglaise, rivale de la grècque et de la latine, est également fertile et énergique
et ennemie de toute contrainte (de même que la nation qui la parle); au lieu que la fran
çaise, énervée et appauvrie par le raffinement, toujours esclave des règles et des usages,
ne se donne presque jamais la moindre liberté et n’admet point d’heureuses témérités.
This neat maxim on the genius of the English language expresses the new intel
lectual situation of Europe. And this new situation is further reflected in Leib
nitz’s work; for at the turn of the century he began to occupy himself increas
ingly with the writings of John Locke, Samuel Clarke and John Toland, the
British representatives of political empiricism and individualism.
With William’s accession to the throne Holland too came under England’s
influence; the Dutch Republic became ‘ a mere sloop of the English frigate
It became the intellectual meeting-ground between England and the Continent.
In 1683 Pierre Bayle founded in Holland the first international periodical, Les
Nouvelles de la République des Lettres; in 1686 Jean Le Clerc founded his
Bibliothèque universelle et historique; and in 1687 there appeared Basnage de
Beauval’s Histoire des Ouvrages des Savants. Leibnitz entered immediately into
correspondence with these and other men of letters resident in Holland. The
Dutch Republic became England’s fulcrum on the Continent—first in cultural
matters and, after the Grand Alliance of 1701, in politics too. To the educated
classes of the time Holland appeared, as Calixtus wrote, as the ‘ compendium
orbis eruditi and all savants and gentlemen of Europe made it the destination
of their peregrinatio academica. On the same ship that brought William of
Orange to England, John Locke was returning from his exile abroad. Twelve
months after the Glorious Revolution he published his two political essays on
Civil Government; via Holland these essays now proclaimed the new rights to
the rest of Europe. From Holland the spirit of 6enlightened absolutism ’ was
propagated; it was the same spirit with which Leibnitz had sought to inform
the politics of Hanover. There, Duke Georg Ludwig had gradually turned
away from the Empire and from French influence; after 1714 the Principality
was drawn into the Northern orbit, and the Duke now looked expectantly to
London.
In brief, Europe at the end of the century was a field of forces determined
by several centres of power, which were represented by the following courts
and their rulers: Paris—with Louis XIV until 1716; London—William III, and
later Queen Anne until 1714; Berlin—the Great Elector until 1688; and Fre
derick III (as King of Prussia Frederick I) until 1713; Vienna—Leopold I,
Joseph I from 1705 to 1711, and then Charles VI; Hanover—Duke Ernest
Augustus until 1692, Georg Ludwig as George I of England from 1714. And
finally, as a consequence of the Wars of the North (1700-1721), St. Petersburg
entered the Concert of Europe ; for with the Battle of Poltava in 1709 Peter the
Great had finally broken the Swedish hegemony of Charles XII.
4
The Empire and Europe were the two aspects under which Leibnitz viewed
the political crisis of his time. In the Empire the constitutional question was at
issue; in Europe the constitutional was connected with the legal question.
The reality which Leibnitz experienced was chaotic and disrupted; he was
witnessing the decline of the German and European order. The concepts of
law and order had to him become precarious, because neither at home nor
abroad were they any longer capable of securing the common peace. Yet peace
must be restored at all costs ; it was to be restored in term of a 4pre-established
harmony ’, of a harmonia mundi pre-determined in the historical and reflective
self-consciousness of man. The idea of a logically organized 4true state ’ was
to counter the threat of disruption and anarchy arising from the 4real state \
During his stay in Mainz, 1668-1672, Leibnitz experienced 4the violent
torrent ’ of his age : Imperial Vienna and Electoral Mainz, the very foundations
of his political conception, were threatened by the Turks and the French re
spectively. Germany and Europe, he felt, were in the same perilous position.
One hundred and fifty years later, in 1815, Goethe too was staying at Bad Schwal-
bach, near Mainz, where Leibnitz had written his memorandum on the Securitas
Publica; and Goethe, with the same astonishment and something of the same
apprehension, was experiencing a later phase of the same crisis. The war be
tween Napoleonic France and Europe was drawing dangerously near, until at
last Goethe found himself surrounded by soldiery. 4For the spectator,’ he
wrote, 4this is a particularly fortunate situation to be in, for all the radii of
these universal events meet in this place.’ Leibnitz too looked on from this
4 particularly fortunate situation but Goethe’s superior composure was not
his lot; his actions were informed by an anxious concern for the political fate
of Europe. The memorandum he was writing was for the perusal of both the
Emperor and the Invasor reipubiicae christianae. He appealed to a conception
of reason which was alien to Goethe’s. He endeavoured to give a rational
account of the principles governing this chaotic situation, and—like Hobbes in
the Leviathan—to wield and fashion these principles more geometrico. He
offered to the Elector of Mainz his services as a political arithmetician, ready to
restore the balance between freedom and power, individualism and centralism.
In his view Europe was a whole, Mainz no more than one of the figures in the
contemporary game for power. The game was played out between Louis, whom
Leibnitz regarded as the Invasor reipublicae romanae, and the Emperor, of whom ■
he wrote, 4he is indeed a pious man, reads and studies cum applicatione, . . . but
does not often speak decisively ’ ;36 and finally the Turks were threatening to
take a hand in the game. It is significant that even now Leibnitz had a firm
belief in the 4 autonomous reality of relations and especially in the persuasive
power of political connections. Hobbes was a mere theoretician of power;
Leibnitz on the other hand, in his capacity of diplomat, wished to practise the
science of political combination. When the Imperial policy of Mainz failed in
Paris (1672), a new era began for him in Hanover. Here he was irresistibly
drawn into the sphere of interest of a dynasty which, within a few decades, would
rise from the miserable conditions of the Thirty Years’ War to the throne of
England. Thus Leibnitz had occasion to observe closely the vital forces at work
in the absolutism of the territorial states ; and in the rise of this family of Ger
man Princes to world power he played no mean part. In Hanover he became
intimately aware of the spirit of the late Baroque; and eventually he became
one of the men whose reflection on problems of individual and universal con
cern did most to influence and mould that spirit.
The Electress Sophia, wife of Ernest Augustus, assembled around her in
Hanover in the last decades of the century a circle of great and gifted men
from all over Europe. Here Leibnitz met Haendel, who conducted the chamber
concerts at court. Sophia was the intellectual centre of this baroque principality,
and for her the best music to be heard anywhere in Europe was composed.
Johann Friedrich’s summer-residence of Herrenhausen—an imitation of the
Bourbon and Orange pleasances—became a model of the contemporary art of
living; under her supervision the grounds at Herrenhausen were turned into
the greatest baroque garden of Northern Europe. Sophia combined the con
temporary ideal of grandeur and sublime serenity with a shrewdness and a
sense of humour to which she owed much of her fame. As the ancestress of the
English, Prussian and Hanoverian royal houses, she was later called 4the mother
of Kings ’. A daughter of the Palatine Frederick Y, King of Bohemia, and
Elizabeth Stuart (a sister of Charles I of England), she came of two families
with great intellectual and artistic talents. To her sister Elizabeth of the Pala
tinate Descartes had dedicated his Principes de la Philosophic, her brother
Charles Louis was a friend of Spinoza’s; and Leibnitz’s Theodicy owes its
inception to the many conversations with Sophia and her daughter Sophia
Charlotte, Queen of Prussia, that were held in the parks of Herrenhausen. At
Sophia’s court began the German tradition—continued by her descendants—of
courtly patronage in the arts and in philosophy. Sophia Charlotte with her
palace Charlottenburg; Sophia Dorothea (daughter of George I, and wife of
Frederick William, Crown Prince of Prussia) with Mon Bijou near Berlin;
the round table of Frederick the Great at Sanssouci; Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel
under Philippina Charlotte; and finally the Weimar of Anna Amalia—all
these courts belong to the tradition of Herrenhausen. And Leibnitz too was
present at all these eighteenth-century courts; it was his spirit that determined
the intellectual and ethical climate of this specifically German culture. And
this is true even of Weimar, whose Minister of Education—Goethe—was deeply
influenced by the Monadology.
Herrenhausen was the first concrete symbol of an exceedingly abstract idea
—the monad; and to Leibnitz’s restless spirit this symbol was significant only
when he was able to perceive it within a whole that was not chaotic. Thus he
encountered the problem of Imperial unity at every step. Both politically and
philosophically he was deeply concerned with the discrepancy between the
*monster ’, the disrupted Imperial mechanism, and the biological idea of a
single organism—the Imperial Republic of the future, conceived in terms of a
pre-established harmony obtaining between a number of ruling families.
The first work which Leibnitz undertook at the instigation of his Hano
verian master, published under the significant pseudonym 4 Caesarinus Fuerst-
e n a r i u s w a s De lure Suprematus ac Legationis Principum Germaniae (1677)
—a treatise on the legal status of embassies. The concept underlying this work
is the Christian unity of European culture, a res publica Christiana in which the
spiritual and temporal powers were to be held 4in equal measure ’ in the hands
of the Pope and of the Emperor. Coming from a Lutheran in the service of a
sovereign Prince, the thesis of Leibnitz’s treatise was a twofold paradox. But
amidst the multitude of petty states, amidst this swarm of monads, the problem
of unity was becoming ever more pressing. At that time Leibnitz also laid the
foundation of his monadological system; in 1686 he wrote the Metaphysical
Treatise, which was to be the basis of his future metaphysics of the community.
Nevertheless, not even then did he withdraw into the world of speculative con
struction. His concern for the welfare of the 4real state ’—for Vienna and the
Emperor as the representative of the idea of Empire no less than for the Hano
verian state, an absolutist principality par excellence—this concern gave him
no 4philosophical peace ’. When the Turks laid siege to Vienna he wrote his
Mars Christianissimus; when the Count Mélac invaded the Palatinate (1688),
Leibnitz handed to the Emperor his Geschwinde Kriegsverfassung (‘ A Brief
Outline of Routine O rders’), which begins with these words: ‘ Despite the
exclusive claims of mathematics to that title, warfare too has become a genuine
science. It is no longer faro, but has become a game of chess.’ Anxiously
concerned for the 4securitas publica interna et externa ’ and for Europe’s 4status
praesens ’, he advocated and hastened the preparations for the Congress of
Magdeburg of October 1688. In the spirit and style of Lisola he wrote at that
time: 4 The cause of Christendom, whose hopes are worsted; the cause of
justice, which is mocked at and scorned; the cause of innocence, which is
cruelly suppressed—this is the cause of God.’ This deep concern for the political
crisis of his time is the context of the Theodicy, a preliminary draft of which
he sketched out during his stay at Mainz. His feeling of political responsibility
was now merged with an awareness of his intellectual and religious responsi
bilities. Restoration of the political order meant for Leibnitz the restoration
of a moral order based upon Christian foundations. The political see-saw
Empire-Europe had its analogy in the philosophical see-saw rationalism-Chris-
tianity. , , , , . , 1234109
The problem of the Theodicy— Are not the absolute claims of rationalism
at odds with Christian doctrine?’—which Leibnitz sought to solve in a life-time
of reflection, affected directly every aspect of his life. Thus he wrote in his
Manifeste contenant les droits de Charles III, roi d'Espagne (1703):
Mais le pis de tout est que l’athéisme marche déjà en France tête levée, que les pré
tendus esprits forts y sont à la mode, et que la piété y est tournée en ridicule.. . . Partout
où ce génie met le pied et se rend supérieur, il porte . . . ce venin . . . avec lu i.. . . Nous le
voyons maintenant en France même, où, sous un Roi dévot, sévère et absolu, le désordre
et l’irréligion sont allés au delà de tout ce qu’on a jamais vu dans le monde chrétien.
The passionate voice which was asking these religious and ethical questions
could no longer be mistaken; this cri de cœur could not be fobbed off with easy
moralising. Thus Leibnitz wrote to the Emperor’s confessor, the Jesuit Fr.
Menegatto : 6Here in Hanover people have little use for me. And I can hardly
bear the grief that "overwhelms my soul as I watch the interment of Germany
being prepared.’ He was indignant that the Imperial Diet—in permanent
session at Ratisbon—spent their time arguing about ceremonial and court
intrigues, while Europe was drifting towards catastrophe. After the Peace of
Ryswick, which had been concluded in the night of September 20th 1697, the
Empire ceded Strasbourg to France, and Leibnitz wrote:
Quaenam pax facta est? Heu non est filia lucis.
Est belli fax cur? Filia noctis erat.
And the same concern for the common peace of Europe inspired him at that
time to write his Ermahnung an die Teutschen, ihren Verstand und Sprache besser
zu üben (‘ An Exhortation to the Germans : That they should better exercise
their Reasoning and their Language ’). For the status praesens of the Empire
was not only the 4crux of geographers ’ and politicians; it was also the crux
of all who wished to realize an autonomous national self-consciousness and
to emancipate the German language. Intellectually as well as financially Ger
many was living (as Leibnitz wrote) on French 4subsidies and 4 German
customs [were] affected by a foreign pest ’. Leibnitz’s patriotism was intimately
concerned with these issues ; but it was as it were a homeless patriotism, for it
was rooted in the idea of Empire : 4At the time of the outbreak and spreading
of the Thirty Years’ War, Germany was flooded with foreign and indigenous
nations. And our language no less than our possessions suffered in the scrim
mage.’37 As a consequence, Leibnitz turned against France’s political and
England’s cultural predominance on the Continent; especially since Locke
and Newton were complacently claiming, to have bid farewell to the 4 Lady
Philosophy ’.38 In a letter to Samuel Clarke Leibnitz maintained that English
empiricism was threatening the foundations of natural religion—for Locke (he
wrote) was denying the immortality of the soul, and Newton had transformed
space into a sensorium Dei. In 1699 the Basle geometrician Fatio de Duillier
for personal reasons put up the claim that Newton had been the first to invent
the infinitesimal calculus. The notorious quarrel that ensued had its reper
cussions outside the learned world; behind the personal motives of the con
testants—important though they were—there lay two entirely different political
outlooks.39 In his critique of Locke, Leibnitz warned against the current vogue
of over-estimating the value of philosophical doctrine, and against the dangers
to the European commonwealth, arising from a spirit of intellectual and political
arrogance. At the turn of the century he wrote (in terms which may be said to
anticipate the development that was brought to a head in the French Revolu
tion):
Indeed, that which one has the most right to censure in men is not their opinion, but
their rashness in censuring the opinion of others, as if it were necessary to be stupid or
wicked in order to judge differently from themselves. . . . If fairness demands that persons
should be spared, piety on the other hand insists that the evil effects of their dogmas,
inasmuch as they are injurious, should be expounded in their proper place; and such
(not to speak of what is dangerous to morality and civil government) are the dogmas [i.e.
Hobbes’s] which are contrary to the providence of a perfectly wise, good and just God, and
contrary to that immortality of the soul which renders it susceptible of the effects of his
justice [i.e. Locke’s views]. I know that excellent and well-meaning men maintain that these
theoretical opinions have less influence upon practice than is thought; and I also know
that there are persons of an excellent disposition and character whom these opinions will
never cause to do anything unworthy of themselves. . . . But these arguments no longer
apply to the majority of their disciples and imitators; for these men, believing themselves
released from the troublesome fear of a watchful Providence and of a menacing future,
give the reins to their brutish passions, and turn their minds to the seduction and corrup
tion of others. And if, further, they are ambitious and of a somewhat harsh disposition,
they will be capable, for the sake of their pleasure or advancement in the world, of setting
on fire the four comers of the world; as I have known from the character of some whom
death has swept away. I even find that opinions of this kind, insinuating themselves
little by little into the minds of men of high life who rule over others and upon whom
the affairs of the world depend, . . . dispose all things towards the general revolution with
which Europe is threatened. And it is these opinions which will eventually accomplish the
destruction of what still remains in this world of the generous sentiments of the ancient
Greeks and Romans, who preferred love of country and of the common weal, and care
for posterity, to fortune, nay even to life itself. These p u b lic sp irits, as the English call them,
are fast in diminishing and are no longer in fashion; and they will diminish still faster
when they are no longer sustained by the right morality and true religion which natural
reason itself teaches us. But men of the opposite character are now beginning to rule;
and these men have no other p rin c ip le but that which they call h o n o u r. Yet with them the
mark of an honest man and of a man of honour is only this, that he should do no baseness
as they understand it. And if, for the sake of power or through caprice, anyone poured
forth a deluge of blood, if he turned everything upside down and inside out, that would
be counted as nothing, and a Herostratus of antiquity . . . would pass for a hero. Boldly
these men scoff at the love of country, ridicule those who care for the public good, and
when any well-meaning man speaks of what will become of posterity, they reply : we shall
see when the time comes. Yet it may well happen that these people will themselves one
day experience the evils they think reserved for others. If this epidemic disease of the mind
(whose bad effects begin now to be visible) is properly treated, these evils will perhaps be
prevented. But if the disease goes on increasing, Providence will correct men by the
Revolution itself which must spring therefrom. . . .40
We have quoted these words in full because they show that, though optimistic,
Leibnitz entertained no illusions about the contemporary state of affairs; he
had an essentially conservative mind, a mind ever concerned for the weal and
woe of the 4 public spirits ’, and their influence upon the European comity of
nations.
Hobbes (in his Leviathan) had constructed his absolute state upon Cartesian
foundations, and had called it a 4mortal god and France under Louis XIV
had been the first European country to make of this 4mortal god ’ a fateful
reality. Leibnitz has left us with no great work of political philosophy. But he
converted the old mediaeval idea of Empire into an idea of civil society. His
Societätsidee was realized in the modern Academy—a supra-national and time
less commonwealth of intellects. As a Christian politician Leibnitz remained
hopeful that by means of a general revolution Providence would bring salvation
to man: 4for whatever may happen, and taking all in all,’ he continues in the
essay quoted above, 4everything will always turn out for the better at the end
of the account, although that ought not to happen and indeed cannot happen
without the punishment of those who have contributed even to the good by their
evil acts.’
At this point we must leave the political stage of the seventeenth-century
controversy and turn to its philosophical background.
CHAPTER III
THE CARTESIAN REVOLUTION
1
The disruption o f ’the European political tradition which has just been
described finds a parallel in the intellectual and cultural situation of Europe;
here too the traditional continuity of reflection was broken. And the intellectual
chaos resulting from this revolutionary break with the past was as great and as
important.as the political chaos of the age; indeed, as the new dimensions of
consciousness were as yet neither validly determined nor even perceived as a
whole, the intellectual disruption may be said to have been even more profound
than the political.
The absolute raison d'état was closely related to a certain intellectual attitude
(first at home in Italy and France, then among France’s eastern neighbours, and
finally in northern Europe), in which absolute value was placed upon the re
flective activity; and in Descartes (1596-1650) this relation is seen in its clearest
form. The revolution of thought which Descartes consciously aimed at was
related in an obvious way to the political revolution effected by Louis XIV in
France. Descartes’s influence upon subsequent European philosophical reflect
ion was analogous to Louis’s influence upon the European politics of the next
hundred years. The consequences of Cartesianism in the natural sciences and
in the writing of history were as profound as the influence of French absolutism
upon Continental politics. Man’s view of nature (as expressed in the new
physical sciences) and of the universe (as expressed in the new astronomy)
corresponded to the new relation of the individual to the state; both relations
were equally precarious and controversial. The freedom from dogma (of Church
or State) had its parallel in the freedom of the individual from animistic nature-
imagery and from the conception of a divine cosmos. Man’s sovereignty over
the world aroused in its discoverers and promoters an unbounded optimism,
which Leibnitz would one day furnish with its proper metaphysical foundations.
Not until much later was sovereign man faced with the question, Freedom for
what?
To the traditional way of writing history this new freedom became increas
ingly embarrassing. For the break with tradition rendered the validity of all
current descriptions of history questionable, and gave rise to legitimate doubt as
regards the validity of the chronological method in historiography. In 1702
Antonius Perizonius, Professor of History at Leyden, proclaimed a radical
historical scepticism and agnosticism. Once doubt had assailed the veracity of
historical evidence, Biblical chronology itself became suspect. Daniel Huet,
Bishop of Avranches, a friend of Leibnitz’s, voiced the first systematic doubts
in his Demonstratio Evangelica> written in 1672. Jacques Bénigne Bossuet,
Bishop of Meaux, a violent opponent of Leibnitz’s, vainly attempted in his
celebrated Discours sur l'Histoire Universelle to dispose of the doubts raised in
contemporary minds. There ensued a hopeless confusion of chronologies
sacred and profane alike. Both Newton and Leibnitz—as mathematicians—
took part in several international discussions on the writing of history.
38
T H E C A R T E S IA N R E V O L U T IO N 39
But it was not only the concepts of the natural sciences and of historiography
■which were now disputed (and thus transferred from a static to a dynamic con
sciousness). The constitution of social life itself was changed, and ethics became
the core of the contemporary controversy. Does the Christian canon of virtues
contradict the stoic or epicurean canons ? Are atheists immoral ? Whence derives
the claim of reflection to change and overthrow the ethical and social structure of
the community ? Everywhere on the Continent these and similar questions were
now being asked. In his Pensées sur la Comète (1683) Pierre Bayle proclaimed the
absolute ‘ sovereignty of m orals’: ‘ 7/ n'est pas plus étrange qu'un athée vive
vertueusement qu'il n'est étrange qu'un chrétien se porte à toute sorte de crime. . . .’
In England John Toland went even further: it is a grave philosophical mistake
(he claimed) to write ‘ as if there were no difference between Atheism and
Superstition; for is not the most abominable Atheism much less deadly to the
Republic and to human society than that monstrous and savage Superstition
which fills the most flourishing States with factions, turmoil and seditious move
ments, and leads to a depopulating of the greatest Kingdoms and sometimes
even to their overthrow.’41
On the authority of Pomponazzi, Vanini and Cardanus, the libertins and
esprits forts of the age were raising Lucretius and Epicurus to the dignity of
moral arbiters. Church and state combined in their protest against this, but as
soon as it became necessary for them to give their own moral canon a secure
philosophical foundation, they were once again in opposition to each other.
In this harassment the Catholic Church returned to the closed system of St.
Thomas Aquinas, while *enlightened ’ spirits—in particular the Jansenists—
adhered to St. Augustine. The Protestant Church, which was in the same pre
carious position, rediscovered Melanchthon and, in the West, Calvin.
Closely linked with these ethical and moral problems was the conception of
education. Should the content and method of scholastic education be retained?
Or did the new idea of ‘ sovereignty of reflection ’ demand changes in both ?
Which was to be placed higher in the scale of educational values: knowledge
or experience; theory or practice? What was to be the influence of Church and
state upon education? And which should assume responsibility for the educa
tion of its members ? These were the questions Leibnitz was faced with, and he
had no ready answer to any of them; instead, he spent a whole life-time en
deavouring to establish a balanced relation between theory and practice. In
the educational issue his own interests were involved in many different ways.
In the absolute state a modern theory of education was being formulated, the
aim of which was to achieve a full and untrammelled development of the sove
reign personality. This theory was opposed by the traditionally established
types of education: in Protestant Germany by the orthodox, scholastic Aris-
totelianism of Melanchthon, in a growing number of European courts by the
Thomist ethic of the Jesuit schools. Modern education was now based upon
an absolutist ethos of personality. This is the conception which, modified by
Shaftesbury’s theory of Virtue, came eventually to inform educational thought
in the eighteenth century. The merging of aesthetic with moral concepts may be
already observed in the aesthetically significant optimism of Leibnitz’s harmonia
universalis, which was to bear fruit in the new century.
The old and the new worlds of experience were also at war with each other
in the realm of contemporary art, even though here a unity of style and a re
storation of the old ‘ harmonie préétablie * were most clearly and directly aimed
at. The traditional world of old was no more; the ancient truths of man were
crumbling. And in the arts the same problem arose as in politics, that is, the
problem of how to commit the affective will of the individual to a notional
system of the universe. The experience of this issue informed the works of
Heinrich Schütz and of other great baroque polyphonic musicians; it was
manifest in the works of Sir Christopher Wren, Andreas Schlüter, and Balthasar
Neumann—works which truly answered to Goethe’s definition of architecture
as 1concrete music \ The architecture of the seventeenth century attempted
creatively to solve the problem of the labyrinthus continui (which Leibnitz had
briefly encountered in his mathematical studies) ; and in this attempt the para
doxical relationship between the finite and the infinite, between the contingent
and the absolute, was expressed in concrete form. The relations of the sovereign
to the people, and of the individual to the universe, were permanently fixed in
brick and stone, and preserved for posterity in all their characteristic detail.
In its arts, it may be said, the age has erected its own visible and audible monu
ment. And the poetry of Andreas Gryphius reflects the same problematic issues
as the other arts. We may recall the remark Molière is said to have made at the
beginning of his theatrical career, during the storm of applause that followed
the first performance of the Précieuses Ridicules (1659): ‘ Je ri ai plus que faire
d'étudier Plaute et Térence et d'éplucher les fragments de Ménandre; je n'ai
qu'à étudier le monde.'
‘ Étudier le monde ' : that is the new motto of the arts and also of science.
But the world is full of contradictions, and contemporary philosophy was con
cerned with the same issues as the arts and politics : to secure the inner and the
external peace, to found a common way of fife, to establish a political, intellectual
and spiritual balance. Even the systematic metaphysics of the age was con
cerned with issues of direct political import. Thus the problem of substance,
which is passionately discussed at what appears to be a high level of abstraction,
has a concrete political aspect; and so have the problem of the will, Hobbes’s
geometrical theory of motion, and Descartes’s mechanics. All the exoteric
aspects of Cartesian philosophy are related to the dichotomy between the
individual and the universal (or, in political terms, between man and society);
and the political crisis of the age gives these exoteric elements of Cartesianism
an air of urgency and immediacy. The political events of the day provided as
it were a concrete reality to the great work of abstraction that was being per
formed in the contemporary philosophical discussion. The work of Hobbes
and Spinoza, and above all of Leibnitz himself, is a reflection of this state of
affairs. The world was said to be governed by the old spiritual order. But the
world at large was unable to keep the peace; and hence it demanded of the
philosophers that they should give it a coherent account of what was amiss in
this spiritual order. The problem of a theodicy—which Malebranche and Leib
nitz attempted to solve—was the most urgent problem of the day. But its
urgency can only be grasped from its political context. The concept of evil was
a speculative term derived from concrete political experience. What relation can
there possibly be, men asked, between political chaos and the divine Universe?
Is not this Universe revealed in the nature of reason as harmony? Has not
contemporary reflection only just discovered the great rational design of the
world, and liberated it from dogmatic obfuscation? How then can there be any
chaos at all in a rationally designed world? Yet the actual experience of chaos
could no more be denied than could the harmonious order of the laws of pure
knowledge, that is, of mathematics. And inherent in the conception of a theodicy
was also the urgent problem of law and order. ‘ Après avoir réglé les droits de la
Foi et de la Raison ’, this is how Leibnitz begins the main section of his Theodicy ;
and he goes on to ask how human injustice can be reconciled with the goodness,
holiness and justice of God.
Here then, in Leibnitz’s Theodicy, a metaphysical account is given of the
political conflict of the age. To justify the ways of God before a disrupted world
seemed imperative to an age which had but recently and tentatively discarded
its old faith. The Cartesian revolution represented neither mere ‘ progress ’ nor
a simple development of previous modes of thought.42 The intellectual revolu
tion took on the form of a social crisis in which tolerance and the rights and
freedom of the individual became the urgent and immediate concern of all men.
The principle of tolerance, proclaimed on the Continent by Bayle and in Eng
land by Locke, had not only a religious but above all a political aspect. Thus
the theologian Huisseau proclaimed in 1670 that the idea of tolerance is the
very core of Christian Revelation. Upon the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes
the arguments around the idea of tolerance shifted from the theological to the
political plane; and in 1698 there appeared Locke’s Epistolae de Tolerantia,
which found a great response all over Europe. Leibnitz’s plans for a reunion of
the Churches were based upon just this idea, and his correspondence with Bos
suet and Pellisson shows that it is impossible to separate the political from the
religious motives. And further, inasmuch as this idea of toleration called for a
decision between the conflicting claims of citizenship of one country and of the
world, of national and international ways of thinking, and of the ‘ true ’ as
opposed to the ‘ real ’ fatherland, Leibnitz’s patriotism too was here involved.
Leibnitz’s patriotic zeal stands in singular contrast to his actual homelessness.
He was at home wherever he found a field for his many activities: in Paris as
much as in Vienna, in Berlin as in Hanover. And in this too the restless spirit
of his age, its political and cultural cosmopolitism, is expressed. For the rise of
the national states was challenged by a simultaneous increase in political
activities of an all-European nature, and this challenge too is reflected in his
work. The conflicting claims of both forces were latent in his fife from his earliest
years onwards ; they became increasingly important when he entered the service
of Hanover; and they were theoretically resolved at the end of his life in his
concept of world-citizenship. Only from this point of view is it possible to under
stand his later missionary plans for China, Russia and America. He wished to
integrate within himself political patriotism and religious cosmopolitism. Be
hind both concepts the contradictory forces of the age were at work, aiming
both at national individuation and at international coalescence. The contro
versy between the national mode of fife and the supra-national Academy leads
us to the core of the contemporary issue; thus we observe, in line with this con
troversy, a life-long conflict between Leibnitz’s nationalist diplomacy and his in
ternational correspondence on scientific and intellectual matters. At the time
when he published his manifesto Mars Christianissimus (which was directed
against Louis XIV) he was also corresponding with Baron Tschirnhaus, hoping
to be elected to the Académie des Sciences. Intellectual knowledge—still emo
tionally coloured by faith—was now endowed with a transcendent value; the
ardour inherent in the old idea of missio was translated into the realm of
knowledge; and the Civitas Dei was transformed into a respublica litteraria.
The organ of this commonwealth was the international correspondence in which
Leibnitz first began to take an active part at the age of twenty-two. To the
Civitas Dei and to the respublica litteraria was added the concept of tolerance;
faith and knowledge were joined by understanding, forbearance and sympathy.
A unified and stable conception not only of Europe, but of all mankind as
represented by Europe, was now acclaimed as an actual reality. Leibnitz’s
exertions to organize a mission to the world—in China with the aid of Roman
Jesuits; in Russia through Peter the Great; and in America with the aid of
the English Puritans—are the signs of a new, functional mode of thinking, and
of a modern, functionally conceived political activity. Leibnitz had great talent
for the work of organization that lay behind all these plans; even at the end of
his life he drafted a number of world-embracing missionary plans and memo
randa for the Emperor, whom they never reached.
2
In order to understand more clearly the philosophical situation of the age
it will now be necessary to examine Descartes’s formulation of the new mode
of thinking. The controversy around the Cartesian methodological advance
was closely connected with contemporary political changes. The intellectual
fronde coincided with the European controversy between the dynasties and the
Estates. And the meaning of the word fronde was reversed; for now it was the
political reaction which provided a counterpoise to the intellectual revolution.
The victory of the absolute dynasty was accompanied by a victory of an absolute
—though non-transcendent—mode of thought, and this was a victory, too, for
the national language; the Discours de la Méthode of 1637 no longer used the
Latin of the schoolmen. What was so revolutionary about this nationally deter
mined and yet internationally accepted account of first principles was its auto
nomous nature. The freedom of thought from Christian dogma presupposed
the emergence—initiated in Germany a hundred years before—of faith from
the mediaeval order. The freedom of thought that was now proclaimed in France
was not at all self-evident; it did not imply a way of thinking that was directly
and unambiguously concerned with its object. On the contrary, it was an ever
‘ re-flective precarious and self-conscious freedom. To become autonomous,
the seventeenth-century mode of thought had to be uprooted from the spiritual
tradition of the Church; and, before examining other matters, this thought must
needs examine itself. This is the meaning of the cogito ergo sum : that the kind
of reflection which takes the world as its object cannot be separated from re
flection about the Self. Freedom of thought from dogma—that is, from a supra-
natural doctrine founded upon Revelation—entailed freedom from the entire
natural cosmology and anthropology that had, in the course of centuries,
coalesced with the dogma of the Church. To the initiators of the new ways
of thought—to Giordano Bruno, or Galileo, or Descartes—scholasticism
appeared as a philosophy based mainly upon the authority of such theologians
as St. Thomas and St. Augustine; to the seventeenth century it meant, briefly,
‘ the schools ’. In France the conflict with ‘ the schools ’ had started already
in the ’twenties. In 1624 Pierre Gassendi (1592-1655) had published in Gre
noble a book with the significantly awkward title Exercitationes paradoxicae
adversus Aristoteleos; and this had been followed in the same year by a refu
tation from a friend of Descartes’s, Fr. Marin Mersenne (1583-1648), V Impiété
des Déistes, Athées et Libertins de ce temps combattue, and a year later by his
La Vérité des Sciences contre les Sceptiques ou Pyrrhoniens. The controversy
involved the whole world of learning (Pascal too participated in it), and was
brought to a head at the time of the victory of absolutism in France. In the
’thirties, when news of the condemnation of Galileo’s Dialogue on the Two
Great Systems o f the World became known’ Descartes did not yet dare to pub
lish his scientific cosmology, for it was founded upon the work of Copernicus.
And in his Principes de la Philosophie of 1644 he hoped to anticipate a conflict
with the Papal See by making use of his theory of the relativity of motion.43
In his dialogue Recherche de La Vérité par la Lumière Naturelle, a worldly
and well-educated gentleman is portrayed appraising the opinions of philo
sophers; in the course of the argument his opponent, a schoolman, is thor
oughly refuted by the new theory of the universe. This book was published
in 1647, a year before the outbreak of the Fronde. In both instances 4sovereign
reason ’ remains victorious—in politics it is the conservative forces of the
nobility which are defeated, and in the intellectual realm the Aristotelian cos
mology of scholasticism. It is a victory of the idea of c the world as nature ’
over the idea of 6the world as history \ 44 Leibnitz reaped the fruit of this
victory, for knowledge of mere historical data meant little to him. He counted
only mathematics, physics and philosophy among the exact and therefore
worthwhile fields of human knowledge : 6 Si f avais le choix, je préférerais
l'histoire naturelle à la civile et les coutumes et lois que Dieu a établies dans la
nature à ce qui s'observe parmi les hommes.'*5
This victory over ‘ the schools ’ established a new attitude of the modern
mind to the world. For Aristotle, the father of scholastic philosophy, man was
a thinking and at the same time a social being. The object of thought, for
ancient philosophy, was confined to corporality—sense-perception—and to
the external world—the TroXtç. And this twofold limitation of the human
spirit was suspended in its contemplation of the divine principle. The creature-
liness of the Xoyoç was, for antiquity, an undeniable fact subsequently confirmed
in Christian Revelation. By these three concepts—body, state and God—the
autonomy of human thought was thrice limited and thrice secured. Descartes’s
methodological doubts challenge each of these limitations; and he proclaims
the autonomous spirit of man as sovereign. Like the monarch, the new Aoyoç
in its ‘ ab-soluteness ’ rules supreme.
While the old mode of thought was essentially confined to an understanding
contemplation of the sensuous world, the modern mode aims above all at
freeing the intellect from the deception of the senses. The autonomous, mechan
istic model of the world which now comes into being loses gradually in con
creteness and tangibility.46
While the old mode of thought retained contact with the life of the com
munity (for even when it was theoretical this thought remained socially relevant),
post-Renaissance reflection tends towards individualistic abstraction, towards
becoming a ‘ point of view \ It is important to note that it is Leibnitz himself
who introduces the concept of the ‘ point de vue ' into philosophy: in § 57 of the
Monadology he compares the 4different points of view of each monad ’ with
the different views of a single town.
While the thought of antiquity and of the Middle Ages was arrested in an
admiring contemplation of God’s creative purpose, it is the aim of modern
autonomous thought to conquer the world as given by the senses, and to use
this world as the material with which philosophers are to construct their own
systems. And these constructions move ever further away from the Centrum
Securitatis.
This sovereign spirit then finds its reason and its goal—the causa efficiens
and the causa finalis—in its own self-conscious Self. This absolute ego—which
makes its first appearance in the Discours de la Méthode of 1637—is solely a
4 thinking thing a res cogitans, which has nothing in common with the res
extensa of its corporeality. And this reflective ego is a private and self-contained
absolute, cut off from all social bonds and obligations.
6Jamais mon dessein ne s'est étendu plus avant que de tâcher à réformer mes
propres pensées, et de bâtir dans un fonds qui est tout à moi. . . . La seule résolution
de se défaire de toutes les opinions qu'on a reçues auparavant en sa créance n'est
pas un exemple que chacun doive suivre '—Descartes asserts again and again.
Nevertheless, in this way the autonomous ego comes to question the scholastic
esse ab alio, the creatureliness of thought. At this point the danger of an open
conflict with Church and State is at hand; and beyond this dangerous point
Descartes too cannot go; his diplomatic conduct in this matter is famous, and
so is Leibnitz’s. But having once founded all true knowledge upon individual
consciousness, Descartes had destroyed the old order of the human spirit.
Henceforth autonomous thought grows increasingly secular; and men like
Pascal, Arnauld or Mersenne are immediately aware of this development. The
war of ideologies and philosophies that flared up after Descartes’s death spread
into the political camp. Even during his life-time universities all over Europe
had fought the new doctrine ; we need only recall his own quarrel with Gisbert
Voetius, Rector of Utrecht University.47 The state no less than the Church
insisted upon upholding the concept of historical continuity. And by joining
forces they made common cause against the frondeurs d'esprit, who in their turn
added to their claim of the autonomy of thought a proclamation of the inde
pendence of individual man. In the event, the adherents of 4the schools ’
gained the support of their governments for political and religious reasons.
The Church feared the overthrow of the spiritual order (to the maintenance of
which she was committed), for in the eyes of the world faith was becoming
increasingly relative and valueless. ‘ To believe is to assent to a matter because
of the speaker’s reputation; but to know is to understand a matter causally,’
wrote Otto von Guericke, the famous burgomaster of Magdeburg, in 1665.
But the 4reputation ’ of Church and State all over Europe was, after thirty
stormy years of war, gravely shaken. Indeed, 4reputation ’ now became a
magic word; states, Church and international diplomacy all vied for it, remem
bering Richelieu’s maxim that to have a good 4reputation ’ is as important as
to have strong armies. The clash between 4reputation ’ and 4autonomy ’
expresses concretely the tension between appearance and reality, and ultimately
also between knowledge and faith.
The newly restored self-confidence of reason opposed with implacable harsh
ness the confidence arising from traditional belief. Descartes hailed this self-
confidence as the new virtue of generosity, which (he writes in Passions de l'Ame)
4consiste seulement partie en ce qu'il connaît qu'il n'y a rien qui véritablement lui
appartienne que cette libre disposition de ses volontés, ni pourquoi il doive être loué
ou blâmé sinon pour ce qu'il en use bien ou mal, et partie en ce qu'il sent en soi-même
une ferme et constante résolution d'en bien user, c'est à dire de ne manquer jamais de
volonté pour entreprendre et exécuter toute les choses qu'il jugera être les meil
leures But in Descartes’s conception of générosité there lies a dangerous (though
still concealed) attack on the Christian faith in God’s omnipotence. Descartes
himself, it is true, was anxious to reconcile his stoic ideal of virtue with the ideals
of Christian humility and charity.48 But the conflict was soon to grow into a
general crisis of faith; even during his early years at Mainz, Leibnitz sought to
banish the danger of atheism by rational means.49 His treatises on the philosophy
of religion (commissioned by Christian von Boineburg) are all concerned with
mediating between this new spirit of self-confidence and the Christian faith.
The question, How is this 4générosité ’ which Descartes had taught to be recon
ciled with a Christian attitude? was for Leibnitz a most personal problem, not
merely an abstract theological argument. Inherent in it, too, is the fundamental
problem of human freedom, the political and philosophical aspects of which are
to be found implied in all his learned 4demonstrations ’ and treatises, including
the Theodicy. For the relation between the state and individual man, his religious,
spiritual and political integration, presuppose a solution of the problems of
freedom and, therefore, of obligation.
An age in which the traditional stratification of society had ceased to be a
self-evident matter, an age which was shaken to its foundations by a 4bellum
subditorum contra superiorem ’50—such an age must needs feel grave doubt
regarding God’s relation with the world: 4 To me,’ Leibnitz writes, 4 all those
who are discontented with the acts of God, seem to resemble dissatisfied sub
jects, who differ but little in their minds from veritable rebels.’51 The instigators
of these 6rebels ’ Leibnitz considered to be not only the libertins and the esprits
fo rts; to him the real instigators were Descartes, Spinoza and Hobbes.
3
In spite of founding knowledge upon the autonomous powers of man’s own
reflection, Descartes himself was convinced of God’s omnipotence. He was
indeed far from holding the atheistic views ascribed to him by his contempo
raries; and throughout his life he remained committed to the traditional faith.52
But his disciples, impelled, in the spirit of a more radical scepticism, to postu
late the esprit de géomètre as an absolute, sensed even in Descartes’s own work
the dangerous consequences of his scepticism and of his self-conscious reflection.
Thus Pascal, who above all others attacked the Cartesian concept of conscious
ness, wrote in one of his Pensées: 4Ecrire contre ceux qui approfondissent trop
les sciences— Descartes.’53 And although this sketchy note is characteristic of
his attitude to Descartes, it must be added that Pascal himself was not able to
escape altogether a fundamentally similar state of consciousness.
It may be useful to trace briefly the new mood of self-reliance in contem
porary events; for we shall thus see once more that the revolution was con
cerned not merely with philosophy but with the European consciousness in
general. The same postulation of the absolute value of self-consciousness can
be seen at work in politics; in the 4subjectiveness ’ of the arts; in the individual
istic tendencies of clerical universalism, which Bossuet had called 4 la révolte
du sens individuel contre VEglise ’; and in an ultimate freeing of the cogito ergo
sum from the authority of Holy Scripture. At the same time the Bible itself was
examined by the canons of rational criticism. Thus in 1670 Spinoza demanded
in his Tractatus Theologicus that the Old Testament should be subjected to no
other judgment but that of reason, and when, in 1678, Richard Simon’s Histoire
Critique du Vieux Testament appeared, the tradition of historical and philo
logical Bible criticism was initiated.54 Simon’s Critique caused the publication
of well over forty refutations—a sign of how urgent had become the need for a
comprehensive synthesis of knowledge and faith.
There came a moment when—in France at any rate—such a synthesis
appeared possible, when the absolutisms of Church and State moved in concert,
and when the international 6reputation ’ of absolutism seemed secure. And
precisely at this moment the intellectual fronde began its work: libertins and
pyrrhoniens,55 gassendistes and spinozistes—in brief the whole multitude of
honnêtes hommes which Pascal had described—-now began to undermine the
splendid edifice of the modern dynasty. Between 1670 and 1677—that is, be
tween the dates of publication of the Tractatus and the Ethics respectively—
Racine in his works achieved an artistic synthesis of raison and gloire; Bossuet
—tutor to the Dauphin—wrote his Politique tirée de VEcriture Sainte ; Boileau
published his Art poétique, and Malebranche his De la Recherche de la Vérité.
And in these years the movement of intellectual liberation became, as Leibnitz
said, 4a veritable torrent ’56; the tension between appearance and reality be
came more acute than it had ever been before.
Nor was this torrent, which carried before it the time-honoured foundations
of the classical mode of thought, confined to France. It was an all-European
movement, initiated in Italy, where there were still numerous adherents of
Pomponazzi and Cardanus, and continued in England in the works of such men
as William Temple and John Toland.
François Bernier, a famous libertin of those days, described the situation as
follows:
Attendre que, depuis des années, une inconnue, nommée LA RAISON, a entrepris
d’entrer par force dans les écoles de l’Université; qu’à l’aide de certains quidams facétieux,
prenant le surnom de Gassendistes, Cartésiens, Malebranchistes, gens sans aveu, elle
veut examiner et expulser Aristote. . . ,57
Leibnitz himself wrote to the Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinfels in 1682:

Je voy que la philosophie des Gassendistes et Cartésiens prend le dessus même en
France; je ne comprends pas comment ceux qui la croyent puissent estre catholiques de
bonne foy.58
None of these free-thinkers conformed to a clearly defined doctrine. And

only in 1670, when Spinoza’s Tractatus was published (anonymously and under
a fictitious imprint), did they once again assemble under the authority of a
systematic thinker. The effect of the book’s publication was great and immediate ;
at one stroke the camps were divided. For here the effect of the Cartesian
revolution on the issue of Church and State was defined in unambiguous terms;
whatever Descartes may have left vague or unsaid was now presented in a form
clear to all. The break with tradition could not be expressed in more decisive
terms, nor could the protest against the dubious reputation of authority be
voiced more passionately. The Cartesians themselves, for fear of damaging
their own cause, repudiated the dangerous book. Thus Jean Le Clerc called
Spinoza ‘ le plus fameux athée de notre temps ’; Malebranche spoke of the
‘ misérable Spinoza ’ ; and the Jansenist Arnauld held the view (shared by Leib
nitz) that 4 le libertinage vient de Spinoza \ 59
To protest against the doctrines of the 4maledictus Spinosa ’ was de rigueur
everywhere. He was as it were the embodiment of the bad conscience of his
age, the scape-goat of a world permeated with Cartesianism. For there was no
peace in a world that had attempted to escape the quandary of its religious
scepticism by means of a modern secular optimism, or of hypocritical devout
ness. The 4scandale de Spinosa ’60 was not confined to France; thus Leibnitz’s
old teacher Thomasius wrote a Programma adversus Anonymum, and Leibnitz
congratulated him 4d’avoir traité comme il le méritait ce libelle intolérablement
licencieux ’.61 The Dutch savant Graevius betrayed to Leibnitz (in a letter of
July 1670) the name of the anonymous author of the Tractatus, 4 un juif chassé
de la synagogue pour ses opinions monstrueuses ’. Theophil Spitzelius (who had
published an early treatise of Leibnitz’s62) wrote in Augsburg a polemical attack
under the pseudonym Felix Litteratus, in which he called Spinoza ‘ satanas
incarnatus ’.
During his stay in Paris Leibnitz followed this international controversy
with close attention. In a letter to Spinoza (May 1676) Baron Tschirnhaus
mentioned that Leibnitz had informed him of a book which Daniel Huet, 4un
homme d’un savoir étendu ’, was preparing in defence of the truth of religion
and in refutation of the Tractatus.63 Everywhere the reaction was equally violent,
and everywhere Leibnitz’s direct or indirect influence was felt. In Holland,
Reynier van Mansvelt, a Professor at the University of Utrecht, wrote a vast
tome entitled Adversus anonymum theologico-politicum (1674), which is fre
quently mentioned by Leibnitz’s many correspondents. Mansvelt demanded of
the Government that they should interfere in the dispute: 4L ’autorité a le devoir
de se défendre et de défendre les bons citoyens par tous les moyens contre les
corrupteurs du peuple et de les tenir en bride grâce à la puissance qu’elle tient de
Dieu: Car elle ne porte pas pour rien le glaive en les mains .’ Anyone who either
failed to refute Spinoza, or refuted him in moderate terms, was soon accused of
being himself a 4 Spinozist Jan Bredenburg of Rotterdam, for instance,
having unhappily conducted his refutation of the Tractatus in a geometrical
manner, was accused o f 4atheism Towards the end of the century 4Spinozists ’
were being discovered everywhere; thus in 1700 Christian Korthold (who was
also in contact with Leibnitz) wrote his famous book De Tribus Impostoribus
Magnis, in which he attacked Cherbury, Spinoza and Locke. Inevitably, Leib
nitz himself was again and again accused of being a 4 Spinozist At the end of
his life he wrote to an admirer of his philosophy:
Je ne say, Monsieur, comment vous en pouvez tirer quelque spinozisme; c’est aller
un peu vite en conséquences. Au contraire, c’est justement par ces Monades que le Spino
zisme est détruit, car il y a autant de substances véritables et pour ainsi dire de miroirs
vivans de l’Univers toujours subsistans, ou d’Univers concentrés, qu’il y a des Monades,
au lieu, selon Spinoza il n’y a qu’une seule substance. . . .64
In 1712 the Dutchman Ruardus Andala attempted to prove that Leibnitz

had plagiarized Spinoza’s ideas; later on in the century this view appeared all
the more convincing as by then Spinozism had become a mere catchword; and
since then the matter has been broached again and again.65 We shall have
occasion to discuss the meeting of the two men, and the affinities of their thought.
At this point it is merely important to note that the Tractatus made patent the
real consequences of the Cartesian revolution:
Le spinoziste choque vers 1680 autant de tabous religieux, sociaux, éveille autant de
résonnances scandaleuses que, deux siècles plus tard ‘ l’anarchiste ’, mauvais garçon qui
rôde autour de la société.66
The future of European thought was at stake; and in this great game the
advantage now lay entirely with autonomous reason, freed from all traditional
bonds and limitations, with the ratio as it appeared in Spinoza’s philosophy.
Yet the philosophers and savants of the age—Leibnitz among them—hesitated
to draw the ultimate conclusions from their reasoning. Leibnitz’s rationalism
endeavoured everywhere to assert and make secure the traditional dogmas in a
rational manner, to prove the existence of God, and thus to save the old cos
mology.67 In this respect his aim was similar to that of Malebranche (1638—
1715), 4the Christian Plato ’, who challenged the absolute autonomy of reason
and attempted to stem the 4torrent9 of the libertins by claiming that 6La
religion, c'est la vraie philosophie ’. But which religion? Oratorianism or Jan
senism? the religion of Loyola or of Bossuet? of Calvin or Luther? Is it in
the works of St. Thomas or of St. Augustine that religion becomes 4true philo
sophy 9? Or must men leave the Christian orbit, and look for a 4natural reli
gion 9 in antiquity, or in China ? Religion, then, like philosophy, is a matter of
individual4points of view \ A Christian apologetic in the manner of St. Augus
tine, ‘ Father of the Oratorians ’, such as Malebranche was planning, agreed
only in parts with Pascal’s defensio fidei, which was based upon a mystical
experience.68 But Pascal wrote neither for savants nor for theologians. He
wished to convert the modern honnête homme, to cleanse him of his epicurean
ism (derived from Yanini), his materialism (from Gassendi) and his Pyrrhon
ism (from La Mothe le Yayer) with the fire of Christian faith. Pascal’s spiritual
and secular experience—presented as a statement of the essence of Being—
informed his 4argumentum ad hominem honestum ’, with which he hoped to
convince his opponents—the external opponent as well as the one within him
self. Malebranche’s aim was different; he addressed himself to the learned
men and theologians of his time, wrote in their abstract technical language, and
was praised or condemned by them.69 In this he was more nearly related to Leib
nitz, whose Demonstratio Catholica70 of 1668 was also a plan for a Christian
apologetic. But Leibnitz was at the same time more worldly, more of an 4hon
nête homme ’ than the monkish Oratorian Malebranche. It may be said that in
a sense he combined the efforts of the two great Frenchmen. He wished to
speak not only to the learned men but also to court society and to the simple
people, whose ear he hoped to catch; thus the very tone of his writings reflects
his universality. However, all that in Pascal’s mysticism was presented as a
defensio in Leibnitz becomes a demonstratio. And it must be added that Pascal
spared no pains to show to his opponents what he thought of the speculative
proofs of the existence of God.71 For his own part Leibnitz never ceased to be
convinced of the urgent need for such proofs :
De vouloir renoncer à la raison en matière de religion, est auprès de moy une marque
presque certaine ou d’un entestement approchant de l’enthousiasme, ou qui pis est d’une
hypocrisie. On ne croit rien ny en religion ny ailleurs que par ces raisons vraies ou
fausses qui nous y portent: N e c e ssa ria su n t m o tiv a c re d ib ilita tis ,72
In these lines is contained the whole programme of the future theodicy;

and his words 4 entestement approchant de Venthousiasme ’ point to Leibnitz’s
utter lack of understanding of Pascal’s mysticism and asceticism.73 To acknow
ledge the demands of mysticism, to renounce the Self and the world, would
have committed Leibnitz to a renunciation of his theoretical activity as a scien
tist and of his practical activity as a politician ; but such a commitment he would
never acknowledge. On the contrary, 4faith without knowledge is not informed
by the spirit of God, but by the dead letter; and he who acts not believes not,
even though he should boast of his faith ’, he wrote at that time in the essay
Von der wahren Theologia Mystica (4On the True Mystical Theology ’).
In Pascal’s view God annihilates the 4opposition invincible ’ of man’s Self;
to Leibnitz such a God appeared as an unreasonable being. This 4moi haïssable ’
of Pascal’s has nothing whatever in common with Descartes’s cogito ergo sum,
nor with the spirit of generosity that flows from it. The transcendent counter
point to Pascal’s Self is 4the hidden God ’; the transcendent counter-point to
Descartes’s autonomous ego, on the other hand, is an ens perfectissimum whose
existence and idea coincide as perfectly as the form and definition of a triangle.
Leibnitz shared Descartes’s view and sought to prove the existence of God
from the idea of God; for ‘ necessaria sunt motiva credibilitatis \ Pascal pro
ceeded in the opposite way: because mathematics is of no use in the recovery
of the lost faith, therefore it is the heart that must prepare for the experience of
God; and this preparation entails an utter annihilation of the reflective Self:
4 Voilà ce que c'est que la foi, Dieu sensible au cœur, non à la Raison ’. Since the
days of Galileo, the experience of the senses was being postulated as the highest
criterion of truth in science. Just so in Pascal’s work (and in the writings of
contemporary German mystics) it is the experience of faith that is erected as an
inner spiritual stronghold against the growing attack of Cartesianism.
Descartes’s new account of philosophy, we have seen, left a number of
problems unanswered; yet the critical situation of the age demanded a total
solution. The philosophical conversation which in Paris (and thus in Europe)
seemed to harmonize and contain all the discordant voices of the age, was in
truth a profoundly problematic controversy. It was entirely taken up with what,
from the point of view of Cartesianism, appeared as marginal problems; and
these problems, it was soon discovered, concerned not at all the margin, but the
core of the doctrine. The intellectual and spiritual confusion became manifest
in a chaotic multiplicity of 4points of view ’. It mattered little whether these
views were presented by whole schools of thought (as in the Jansenism of Port
Royal), or whether they went to seed in the doctrines of isolated libertins', in
either instance this multiplicity of points of view contributed to a disintegration
of the European commonwealth. And although, during Leibnitz’s first stay in
Paris (1672-1676), France outwardly presented a picture of unity and stability,
it was just at this time that the controversy reached its first peak.
4
It is of the greatest significance for this controversy that all those who took
part in it never challenged Descartes’s fundamental assumption—the autonomy
of thought—but accepted it axiomatically. There was, for them, no return to a
pre-Cartesian position. The unsolved difficulties which Descartes bequeathed
to his followers were not attacked at their roots (by fundamentally re-examining
the questions he had set out to answer); these difficulties were treated as mar
ginal problems which, it was hoped, would eventually be solved by a variety
of suitable hypotheses. This attitude was shared by Leibnitz; he too did not
philosophize ab integro, but took over the questions as they emerged from the
Cartesian revolution, and attempted to think them out logically to their con
clusion.
The greatest problem with which the philosophers were now faced was the
problem of the relation between body and soul, between the res extensa and the
res cogitans. But not only the relation of these two 4things but their very
existence was now felt to be problematic. What is 4the thinking soul ’ ? what
are 4extended bodies ’ ? and how are these separate 4things ’ related to God ?
This last question above all others started a violent conflict between theologians
and philosophers. And Leibnitz in his Introduction to the Theodicy described
this conflict in some detail.
Let us first look at the relation between body and soul. The relation has
become fundamentally problematic since Descartes, identifying the soul with con
sciousness, saw in the latter the 4ab-solute’ origin of all knowledge. Thus a chasm
was seen to exist between body and soul. The body was 4estranged ’ from the
soul; it was now an object among other objects, and as such part of a theory
of mechanics, an ‘ automaton * or 4homme machine ’. The necessary conse
quence of such a view was a revival of the materialist doctrines of antiquity,
especially of Democritus. The first to develop a comprehensive system of atom
ism (even before Gassendi) was Daniel Sennert of Wittenberg (1571-1637).
As for the young Leibnitz, he was a 4 Gassendist9and an adherent of the mecha
nistic theory of the 4subtilissimus Hobbes ’.74 (Only later in Paris, under the
influence of the new development in mathematics, did Leibnitz abandon this
fashionable doctrine.) The realm of matter was determined by Galileo’s physical
and Descartes’s metaphysical laws. And the soul or spirit could in no way in
terfere in or violate the mechanical course of events that was thus determined.
The automatism of this physical world appeared to wield as much sovereignty
as did the absolute states, which Hobbes compared to mechanical bodies.
But how can the physical world interfere via the senses in the working of the
4reasonable soul ’ ? And how can the conscious will act via the human body
upon the external world ?
These questions occupied the minds alike of Richelieu’s, Cromwell’s and
Descartes’s successors. For politics too must needs concern itself with the rela
tion obtaining between the (political) res cogitans—the absolute monarch—and
the res extensa or corpus—his people. How then was this relation between the
state-soul and the subaltern body to be determined? How were both to act in
concert, 4for the greater glory of God ’? Further—and most disquieting of all:
could this 4body ’ of subaltern subjects enter into direct relations with God, or
only via the anima of the sovereign Prince? These problems of the body-soul
relation occupied Hobbes both in their metaphysical and in their political
aspects; for Leibnitz’s contemporaries physical science was always identical
with political science.
Descartes had not supplied a philosophical answer to these questions. Only
as regards the will had he suggested a convincing solution: the will, he had said,
does not impart to the body distinct impulses, but it does influence the direction
of these impulses. Now, such an answer is entirely characteristic of a contem
porary of Richelieu; for Richelieu (as Montesquieu wrote) 4a su tirer du chaos
les règles de la monarchie ’ ; in other words, Richelieu had been able to deter
mine by his own will the motion of the body politic in the direction of absolute
monarchy. But now that this absolute condition was reached, the Cartesian
solution no longer satisfied people. Other and more up-to-date hypotheses were
attempted. The most famous of these is occasionalism, whose founder was the
Flemish convert Arnold Geulincx (1624—1669). His hypothesis is briefly this:
Following Descartes, he assumed axiomatically that no interaction can
exist between the spiritual and the material halves of the world. But how is
the coincidence of events in body and soul to be explained? Physical—or
psychic—motions, Geulincx declared, are not real but occasional mutually
efficient causes. The only real and efficient cause of these motions is God.
Thus at this one point he suspended the absolute autonomy of God’s creatures—■
Descartes’s idea of freedom—and proceeded thence to the view that all creatures
are merely passive. And in this way the 4 reflective soul ’ returned once more
into the hands of God. It is evident that in occasionalism—above all in Male-
branched account of it—the absolute claim of knowledge (especially of the
knowledge concerning the interaction of spirit and matter) was once more
abandoned. The cogito remained a passive onlooker on events and happenings
which are not possible without God’s active interference. Individual man must
humbly submit to the course of the world. 6Ita est— ergo ita sit ’—4thus it is,
therefore thus let it be ’ is the ethical conclusion to be drawn from occasionalism.
And it is obvious that this doctrine provides a metaphysical analogy to the
political development under Louis XIV. The activities of the Sun-King appeared
to his contemporaries as constant 4miracles ’. He himself appeared as the
almighty ‘ ingénieur ’ or 4architecte de la machine ’, as the political deus ex
machina (this, it may be added, was how Leibnitz designated the occasionalists’
notion of God). Occasionally, that is whenever the benightedness and natural
helplessness of the body of his subjects makes it necessary, this deus ex machina
brings harmony into the 4motions ’ of their souls and bodies, and regulates the
inner and the external aspects of their subaltern lives. As God’s representative
in the world, he is the one 4point ’ common to all subjects, the transcendent
meeting-ground of spirit and matter. And in this word 4transcendent ’ lies the
meaning of the splendour of Versailles.
Occasionalism influenced the course of the contemporary philosophical
controversy by. introducing into it the work of St. Augustine. For it is with St.
Augustine’s doctrine of the human mind—which discerns its ideas only in and
through God—that Malebranche attempted to bridge the Cartesian dualism.
This hasty retreat into God as the only 4 true ’ meeting-ground of body and soul
caused Leibnitz at first to throw in his lot with the new Augustinians. Just as
he declared St. Thomas to be the truest interpreter of Aristotle, so he saw in
St. Augustine the truest interpreter of Plato. This preference for St. Augustine’s
Christian Platonism Leibnitz shared with Malebranche and the Oratorians ;73
the Jesuits, on the other hand, adhered to an Aristotelian realism. But Leibnitz
raised an objection against the occasionalist view that the reflective soul is no
more than a mere stage on which God’s purpose is enacted ; he protested against
the deposition of the reflective soul. To him, finite substances could never be
merely passive. Malebranche’s central thesis, 4That we discern all things in
God ’, which Arnauld defended in his Traité des vraies et fausses Idées, caused
Leibnitz to write his fragmentary essay of 1684.76 The question, Are our ideas
our own? (4utrum omnia videamus in Deo . . . an veropropias ideas habeamus . . . ’)
he answered positively, 4for even when we are not thinking of things, their
ideas are contained in our mind [ideae sunt in mente nostra]; just as the figure
of Hercules is contained in the unhewn marble \ 77
The concepts of soul and consciousness, of soul and energy (spontaneity),
Leibnitz postulated as identical throughout the whole course of his philoso
phizing. In his view the existence of the soul is expressed in the fundamental
connection of ratio with voluntas. This connection he postulated in opposition
to Malebranche—and here a characteristic trait of his German Protestantism
becomes evident. To Leibnitz self-consciousness was identical with activity
and functionality in general, and he would agree with Goethe’s definition of
function as 4existence conceived in activity ’.
The various hypothetical accounts of the body-soul problem Leibnitz later
illustrated critically and comprehensively by his analogy of the clock (which he
derived from Geulincx). The analogy as such shows that Leibnitz too thought
of the problem in mechanistic terms, even though it must be stressed that it was
above all the simplicity and clarity of the image which determined his choice.
5
Let us now proceed to the second difficulty which remains inherent in the
Cartesian revolution : the problem of the external world.
For antiquity, the world was a creation of God; its existence was inde
pendent of and outside the human mind, 4 external ’ to its jurisdiction. Des
cartes in his posthumous dialogue La recherche de la Vérité par la Lumière
Naturelle78 had confined his enquiry to the self-determining or autonomous
consciousness ; in consequence the existence of an 4external ’ world became
necessarily problematic. If autonomous consciousness remains the sole valid
criterion of truth, the world as an object of consciousness must be stripped of
everything that consciousness fails to rule less absolutely than mathematics. The
autonomous consciousness of man sanctions as 4true ’ only that which it can
reflect on 4clairement et distinctement ’ as its own proper object. But a picture of
the world which is 4clear and distinct ’ in this sense contains only those properties
which are amenable to an entirely translucid mode of understanding, to mathe
matics. And where, in the physical world, can this mathematical mode of the
understanding be discerned? Descartes’s answer was, Nowhere outside the
concept of extension. But this answer amounted to a restatement of the problem
of substance, essence, or quiddity of things. And this problem became the main
theme of the contemporary controversy.79
The Christian world was conceived of as a creation of God. The essence
or underlying modality of this world, inroKeipevov, with all its qualities and
attributes, could be known only in so far as it was part of a hierarchically or
ganized whole. In other words, this world could be known only in so far as it
represented a greater or lesser good and purpose; its Summum Bonum was God.
The world of consciousness, on the other hand, cannot be known in terms of
final causes, but only in terms of blind, mechanical efficient causes. By calling
animals and human bodies 4machines Descartes implied that what is truly
purposive or 4 telic ’ is produced by merely mechanical causes. For his fol
lowers there opened up at this point the conflict between the new mechanistic
and the old teleological modes of thought; it was a conflict which the young
Leibnitz too must face.80 Being dissatisfied with the solutions offered by con
temporary thinkers, he wrestled with this problem throughout his life, attempting
again and again to establish an agreement between the mechanistic and the
teleological modes of thought. The new sciences of mechanics, dynamics, optics
and astronomy aimed at eliminating the concept of an external world conceived
of as God’s creation. The time had not yet come when the essence of things, the
4 substantial forms ’ of scholasticism (the 4ens perdurabile et modificabile ’)
would be denied outright. As yet this scholastic conception was merely dis
regarded or relegated to a scientifically irrelevant background; Newton was
the first to refuse explicitly to hypothesize about this ens (‘ hypotheses non fingo ’).
In this challenge to the teleological mode of thought conservative minds were
quick to detect the danger of 4atheism For the mechanistic mode of thought
was not contented with ousting the divine principle from the universe; it even
rendered the 4Architect of the World ’ superfluous. The relation between the
sovereign spirit of man and the almighty spirit of God remained obscure; and
so did the consequences of the mechanistic theory of a universe ruled by blind
causes. If this world of ours is driven by blind forces without aim or purpose,
what then has become of the divinely revealed telos ? If this world is reduced to
the bare abstraction of extension, what then has become of the sensuous world,
of the world as ‘ God’s ornament ’ ? Leibnitz’s early short treatise Von der
Allmacht Gottes (‘ On God’s Omnipotence ’) shows how much these questions
were agitating his mind already during his stay at Mainz.81
The first to challenge the rule of teleology was the new science of physics.
Even in Galileo’s days serious doubts had arisen concerning the ‘ hylomorphism ’
of contemporary Aristoteleans. Galileo’s analytical experiment was not merely
(as Bacon said) ‘ a bright question asked of nature but a self-conscious act of
interference for the purpose of measuring nature. The presupposition that the
order of nature is mathematical was held since the days of Galileo, Cardanus
and Kepler ; now this order was to be not merely observed, but actually proved
by means of analytical experiments. The ‘ meta-physics ’ of old endeavoured to
answer questions concerning the ‘ essence ’ of things; the new physical science
aimed at discovering the laws inherent in nature. And the terms used in scientific
description were derived from the mathematical theory of motion, from mech
anics; to this science the young Leibnitz added an important contribution in
his Hypothesis physica nova of 1671.
By claiming that the sole property of matter is extension, Descartes was
applying the constancy of space to the constancy of objects in space. Yet this
amounts to a restatement of the old problem of the continuum: for how is this
‘ being in extension ’ to be conceived of in the mind ? This question was the issue
of the famous dispute between Descartes and Gassendi. In this dispute Descartes
had defended the physics of a single continuous space against Gassendi’s plural
istic physics of discrete atoms. Descartes’s concept of extension led into a
labyrinth of questions increasingly abstract and increasingly difficult; and
when, finally, the concept of the infinite was reached, all measure of agreement
between the disputants had disappeared. A kind of horror vacui had prevented
scientists from admitting this concept of infinity into mathematics or logic; in
metaphysical speculation, however, it continued to play an important part.
Now, although absolute and infinite substance is a necessary concept in meta
physics, nevertheless it remains outside the limits of positive knowledge; con
sequently scholasticism called it a transcendent concept. Leibnitz (under the
influence of Descartes’s geometry) was the first to translate this concept from
metaphysics into mathematics.
Few philosophical terms have had a more remarkable history than the
concept of the infinite in its evolution from Aristotelian logic to Leibnitz’s work
and thence to modern mathematics. The transition from an absolute to a relative
concept of the infinite (i.e. the discovery of the concrete meaning of the second
differential quotient) was, for Leibnitz, a profound intellectual shock; and
this shock was not confined to mathematics, but influenced his way of thinking
in all the other sciences and in philosophy. From now on he acknowledged the
lex continuitatis as the highest principle of reality. And this law of continuity,
when followed to its logical conclusion, was seen to dissolve all absolute anti
theses into relative differences, and to substitute for the rigidity of the old
concept of substance a concept of constant flow of forces.
6
We are here entering upon the central problem of the baroque way of think
ing: the relation between the finite and visible (e.g. Descartes’s finite and created
substances) on one hand, and the infinite and invisible (the soul and God) on the
other. In the old world this problem had no precise meaning. For in a world of
finite and visible existence no other questions can arise except those concern
ing the relation of concrete magnitudes, their proportionality. Now Descartes
reduced the visible external world, conceived as God’s creation, to the concept
of extension; that is, he made the world into an object of consciousness. And
thus ‘ the world ’ as a concept of reflection came into direct conflict with 6the
world ’ as an object of sense-perception. The modern mathematical way of
thinking was isolated from all sense-perception; and the concept of extension
—which at first appeared so concrete—now became unreal, notional, ima
ginary.82 The ‘ essence ’ of extension, on the other hand, remained an unsolved
riddle.
The conflict between concept and sense-perception was not confined to the
sciences, but entered all realms of thought. The important decade 1666-1676
marks a change in Leibnitz’s scientific pursuits from the theory of combination
to pure mathematical analysis; and this corresponds to his transition from
the works of Raymond Lully to Huygens, Fermat and Newton. The change in
Leibnitz’s scientific interests runs parallel to the emancipation (by Stahl and
Boyle) of European chemistry from its traditional Arabic form. And this
process is again analogous to Leibnitz’s own development from the times when
he was secretary to the Rosicrucians at Nuremberg (1667) to his meetings with
Boyle in London (1673) and with Becher in Hamburg (1676). In the contem
porary development of chemistry, too, it is possible to speak of a change to
wards pure analysis. For the period between Galileo and Newton had established
and developed a comprehensive physical system (Leibnitz contributed to it in
1671 his Hypothesis physica nova), by means of which the old alchemical science
was transformed into chemistry.
In mathematics, the advance beyond Descartes, Fermat and Pascal led to
the new infinitesimal calculus, to Leibnitz’s Analysis Situs and Characteristica
Universalis, and to Newton’s 6method of fluxions ’. At the same time, however,
music and architecture too were undergoing a change. By 1670 the Dutch
musical tradition had come to an end. And now the strict variations within a
severely limited range of tones began to be dissolved in an infinite continuity of
harmonies. The new music of the Baroque was orchestral; in it the human
voice was for the first time subordinated to the instruments. The impersonal
perfection of the old style gave way to a highly personal expression of the indi
vidual genius of Haendel and Bach. The interaction of force, space and the will
determined the experience of the age. And these, force, space and the will, are
the themes alike of Haendel’s music and Leibnitz’s philosophy. In architecture
too the same forces of change were at work. Weight and support, the (essentially
techtonic) elements of Renaissance architecture, were now replaced by the
dynamic elements of force and mass. The façade of baroque buildings is a
symbol of the will at work in infinite space. And the so-called ‘ Jesuit style ’ of
Vignola and Della Porta is directly related to St. Ignatius Loyola’s Order; it
is a symbol of the abstract will of the Church at work in the international space
of Europe.
The complexity of this change is seen most clearly in Leibnitz’s own philo
sophical reflection. In his Theoria Motus Abstracti of 1671 he applied for the
first time the lex continuitatis ; according to this law 6it is possible to differ
entiate further between the parts of every element [e.g. of motion] by interpolat
ing yet another magnitude \ He thus approached the problem of continuity
by way of the theory of motion. And the law itself remained, for the time
being, confined to dynamics; only later, during his stay in Paris, did he come
to apply it to mathematics. A first mention of a possible biological application
is contained in a brief remark in his letter to Arnauld83 of April 1687. In a later
letter to Arnauld (September 1687) the concept of continuity appears as trans-
formism, that is as a theory of gradual transformation taking place in an infinite
series of beings. Here, too, the concept of the Aristotelean entelechy appears
for the first time in Leibnitz’s work. His reflection turned again and again to
this idea of a continuous universe (he was anxious to show that this idea was
not his own84), for which he found scientific and ‘ experimental ’ proof in the
works of Swammerdam, Malpighi and Leeuwenhoek. Everywhere the learned
men of Europe were anxious to secure for the new science a foundation in the
European consciousness. In 1676, on his return journey to Germany, Leibnitz
visited Holland. In The Hague he met Spinoza, the ‘ meta-physician ’ of a de
clining world ; in Delft he conversed with Leeuwenhoek, the scientist of the future.
The new theory of algebraic functions and of their application in geometry
was first introduced in Descartes’s Géométrie of 1637. Descartes’s analytical
mode of thinking was a challenge to the Euclidean concept of number. Instead
of the sense-data of concrete lines and planes, Descartes postulated an abstract
spatial concept, the point, which from now on stands for a group of co-ordinated
pure numbers. Thus numbers become mere relations or functions. Euclid’s
concrete paradigms are replaced by geometrical points related by a system of
co-ordinates85 whose starting-point may be chosen at random. Things visible
are postulated as variables, and opposed to absolute constants; thus quanti
tative relations between concrete magnitudes are converted into relations of
space and time. The symbols x, y, z (which Leibnitz calls 6caractères ’) are
‘ ab-solute ’ signs for an abstract nexus, lacking in concrete meaning and tan
gible form, symbols of an infinity of possible, identically constructed situations;
taken as a unit, this infinity represents 1number ’. This, however, is an entirely
new conception of number. In order to be useful in analytical geometry, this
new concept must be more than a designation of arithmetical units. It is now
made to include 1irrational ’ numbers; only with this inclusion does the concept
of number become stable. At this point the mathematician is faced once more
with the problem of continuity, with the paradoxes of the infinite. But by a
stroke of genius Leibnitz avoids the problem. For at this point he introduces
his own ‘ Algorithmus which triumphantly concludes the development of
Cartesian mathematics. The points in which his own infinitesimal calculus
differs from Newton’s calculation of fluxions are especially important for the
working out of a new method of notation.86
Leibnitz was immediately aware of the importance of his discovery,87 even
though he only gradually realized its influence upon Cartesian metaphysics.
This is how he described the transition from mathematics to metaphysics in a
letter (of 1678) to Elizabeth, the Countess Palatine:
Mais pour moy je ne cherrissois les Mathématiques que par ce que j ’y trouvois les
traces de l’art d’inventer en général, et il me semble que je découvris à la fin que Mons.
des Cartes luy même n’avais pas encore pénétré le mystère de cette grande science.. . . Je
viens à la Métaphysique, et je puis dire que c’est pour l’amour d’Elle que j ’ay reconnu
que la Métaphysique n’est guere différente de la vraye Logique, c’est à dire de l’art d’in
venter en général. . . . Car en effet la Métaphysique est la Théologie naturelle et le même
Dieu qui est la source de tous les biens est aussi le principe de toutes les connoissances___88
This ‘ vraye Logique ’ or ‘ Ars inveniendi ’ became thus the magical focus of
both mathematics and metaphysics, and the aim of all future theories of scientific
knowledge. It is identical with the Characteristica Universalis which Leibnitz
so often mentions in his letters. In this new doctrine, Vieta’s and Descartes’s
system of symbolic notation was to be completed and turned into a universal
system of natural theology.
The application of the mathematical mode of thought to problems of reality
rests upon an acceptance of the subject-object theory of reality. It presupposes
that nature is not existence per se, but a phenomenon of the res cogitans. As a
consequence of the Cartesian dualism, the material extensio was ‘ intellectual-
ized ’ and ‘ functionalized \ For Leibnitz mathematics ceased to be a rigid
Aristotelean schema and became a system of the functions of freedom and
obligation, of abstraction and sense-perception ;89 in this way he was able to
adapt the Cartesian advance in mathematics to the uses of pure analysis. Now,
Descartes’s successors allowed the antithetic concepts of the subject-object
theory to become rigidly fixed within the exclusive terms of their definition.
Leibnitz’s lively mind, on the other hand, related them to each other by way of
functions. Thus the ‘ two halves of the universe ’ were seen to stand in a dynamic
and reciprocal relationship to each other. And Goethe’s observation that ‘ func
tion, properly understood, is existence conceived in activity ’ applies with equal
force to Leibnitz the mathematician.
Having advanced beyond Euclidean and Aristotelean mathematics, this new
mode of mathematics must needs break the confines of the classical organon of
thought, of Aristotelean logic itself; but it must be added that Descartes’s own
methodological scepticism had not carried him as far as this, and that here the
change was slowest and least noticeable. Leibnitz was probably among the
first to recognize that ‘ Aristotle’s work is only the beginning and as it were the
ABC, for there are other forms more complex and more difficult . . . , as for
instance the Euclidian syllogisms, where the proportiones are transposed inver
tendo, componendo, dividendo rationes. . . .’90 Only Joachim Jungius (1587-1657)
of Lübeck, of whom he said in the Theodicy that he was ‘ one of the greatest men
of his age ’, did Leibnitz acknowledge as his predecessor and authority in this
field.
The problem of a new organon of thinking, of a ‘ vraye logique ’, occupied
Leibnitz throughout his life; nor was he ignorant of its importance and im
plications:
Il n’y a rien de plus imparfait que nostre Logique, lorsqu’on va au delà des argumens
nécessaires; et les plus excellent philosophes de nostre temps, tels que les Auteurs de
Y A r t d e P e n se r, de la R e c h e rc h e d e la Vérité', et de l*£sjfl/ su r V e n te n d e m e n t [i.e. Amauld,
Malebranche and Locke] ont été fort éloignés de nous marquer les vrais moyens propres
à aider cette faculté qui nous doit faire peser les apparences du vray et du faux: sans
parler de Y a rt d 'in v e n te r, où il est encor plus difficile d’atteindre, et dont on n’a que des
échantillons fort imparfaits dans les Mathématiques.91
Leibnitz’s countless drafts and plans for transposing the mathematical activity
into the realm of logic, and for establishing a logical calculus (or, as he calls it,
a ‘ Scientia Generalis ’), remained unpublished92 and thus unknown until the
nineteenth century.93
It is characteristic of Leibnitz’s mind that he rejects neither Aristotelean
realist logic94 (which stresses the intension of a concept), nor scholastic nomina
list logic (which stresses the extension of a concept). He claims that both are
compatible with each other and with the mathematical mode of thought issuing
from scholastic logic.95 Both forms of logic are to him equivalent. He even
holds that extensive logic is an inversion of intensive logic; and that the ascent
from isolated instances to general functional laws is identical with the analysis
of individual concepts into general predicative concepts (which, in his view, are
as it were contained in individual concepts). This, however, is not the case.
Functional laws are not general concepts inherent in all the individual members
of one species. They are 4synthetic relations 9 between individual members.
And this error accounts probably for the failure of his many plans for a Scientia
Generalist
This logical dilemma Leibnitz had to face from many different sides, and
especially in his quest for a unity of the sciences. For this problem now assumed
great importance in contemporary thought. In the ’eighties and ’nineties of the
seventeenth century countless fragmentary essays on a 4natural system ’ of the
sciences were written.97 The lack of agreement on this question among European
savants stimulated Leibnitz to ever new attempts at a solution. He still regarded
metaphysics as the Queen of the Sciences ; but he wished to restrict her rule by
placing at her,side ministers in charge of the separate departments of know
ledge.98 Upon this conception the new Berlin Academy is to be established;
the Academy is to be representative of a constitutional monarchy in the realm
of the intellect, and to be ruled in the manner of enlightened despotism. Yet
in spite of this assertion, the supreme authority of metaphysics remained con
troversial. A century later Kant finally challenged this authority, and made his
Dispute o f the Faculties (1798) an occasion for a fundamental enquiry into the
foundations of its claims.
Once the traditional order of the sciences was challenged, their natural
hierarchy could no longer be established by rational means. Physics was the
first to break the canon of the old ontologia generalis. Thus the mathematician
Roberval writes to Pascal:
La Métaphysique est fort chymerique. La Physique est toute véritable; mais elle est
fort cachée. . . . Quoy qu’elle soit aussi ancienne que le monde, elle ne vieillit jamais, car
le temps n’est que son vassal: elle est tousjours vieille dans ses principes: elle est tousjours
nouvelle dans ses productions, sans se soucier ni des nouvelles chymères que les vision
naires ont fait et font encore tous les jours à son égard."
Even in Galileo’s time physics had no longer been regarded as ancilla theo
logiae, but as the servant of a political will to power; and as such it was more or
less confined to practical mechanics. This practical use of the sciences domin
ated the minds of all the inventors great and small who now began to besiege
the European courts. Guericke, the sober-minded burgomaster of Magdeburg,
was as much under the spell of this idea of usefulness as the speculative mechanic
van Helmont, or Leibnitz himself. Every polyhistor of the age hoped to achieve
fame and success by 4making inventiones ’ ; thus Leibnitz’s teacher Erhard
Weigel at Jena writes, thanking God 4that HE hath bestowed so many inven
tiones upon His insignificant servant ’. Not contemplation and the disinterested
pursuit of theory were now the moving forces behind science, but ambition and
the desire to transform the world. The results of this passionate scientific activity
were immediately exploited for practical ends; the ars inveniendi entered the
service of political power. Joachim Becher is as representative of this trend as
Leibnitz himself; and his patron John Frederick Duke of Hanover no less than
Frederick Augustus of Saxony.
7
The process of reducing 4substances ' to quantitative data leads necessarily
to an atomic doctrine that excludes all sense-intuition. Atoms are energy-
quanta, in respect of which the terms 4shape ’ or 4figure ’ are as meaningless as
is the Cartesian concept of 4extension ’ in respect of a mathematical point.
The atoms of Democritus and Gassendi were passive 6plastic natures ’; Leib
nitz's monads, on the other hand, are aggressive and energetic centres of force.
At the same time Newton establishes the concept of gravitational forces, i.e.
the concept of attraction and repulsion of mass in space. There is nothing
tangible or intuitive about this idea. Neither 4action at a distance ’ nor 4quantity
of energy ’ have ever been adequately defined. The concept of force that now
emerges both in physics and in metaphysics100 is analogous to the concept of
the will in the political and cultural sphere; and this will determines the ethos
of all human activities. Leibnitz’s concept of the monad is the common denom
inator of these three terms; in the monad are inherent the physical, the intel
lectual and spiritual, and the practical connotations of force.
This entirely functional theory of energy becomes increasingly abstract and
non-intuitive; it amounts to a conquest of the senses.101 A dynamic quantity
is extension abstracted from all intuition, and as such inconceivable to a scien
tist of the old school. Leibnitz’s monad is the first concept of this non-intuitive,
* inconceivable ’ kind ; as such it is a predecessor of the 4model ’ of the atom
such as Rutherford, Niels Bohr and others have given us in recent times.
The old intuitive physical sciences of optics, acoustics and hermetics were
gradually being eliminated and replaced by systems of abstract relations and
equations. The outcome of measuring by experiment cannot be anything but a
number, expressing a functional relation. Time and space are ideal structures of
the mind, not phenomena per se.102 This is the conclusion which Leibnitz (as
he himself writes) ‘ was forced ’ to accept in order to find a way out of the
4 labyrinthus continui \
This new mode of thought became intuitive and tangible in contemporary
politics. The sovereign’s absolute will hardens into a rigid doctrine of force;
and force is the hall-mark of modern reflection. Leibnitz’s' metaphysical form
ulation of this problem is inspired by contemporary thinking. Thus what he
formulated in the Discours of 1686 and in the Monadology of 1714 is political
functionalism,4existence conceived in activity ’. The principalities and monarch
ies of the late Baroque represent so many monads or political ‘ fields of force ’;
their courts are centres whose action spreads over the whole body politic; the
balance of the 4natural system of powers ’ formed by individual states stands
as a precise counterpart to the ‘ pre-established harmony ’ of the universe. And
this universe is in its turn a state, a cosmic analogy of the absolute monarchy.
Thus Leibnitz frequently speaks of the world as 4 God’s absolute monarchy \ 103
Almost instinctively he perceives the relation between the new physical, cosmo
logical and political views; thus he writes to Arnauld in March 1690:
All intelligences or souls capable of reflection [the p rin c e s a n d m onarchs] . . . have
important privileges [p o litic a l p re ro g a tiv e s ], which exempt them from the revolutions of
bodies [ o f th e people]. . . . All things are made mainly for their sake [ fo r th e s a k e o f th e
p rin c e s ]. Together they form the republic of the universe [th e co m m o n w e a lth o f th e E u ro
p e a n states], whose Monarch [L o u is X I V a n d E m p e r o r L e o p o ld /] is God. . . . We must
always be contented with the order of the past, for it conforms to the absolute will of
God [ o f th e so vereig n ]; but as regards the future [ o f E u ro p e ], in so far as it depends
upon us, we must attempt to conform to the presumptive Will of God or to His commands,
and to be an ornament to our Sparta [H anover]. . . . As to physics, we must come to un
derstand the nature of force. . . .104
The art of ciphering was one of the most important aids of contemporary diplo
macy, and Leibnitz availed himself of it in all his political writings and letters.
Just so his metaphysics often looks like a ciphered political doctrine, the phrases
being merely general 4signs 9 for implied political, social and religious trains of
thought.
Even Newton’s 4action at a distance ’ is a symbol of the diplomatic activity
of centres of force (the courts) and fields of force (the petty states) within the
European system. The English theory of the balance of powers is a political
theory of gravitation applied to the relations between sovereign states. It is
significant that the new cosmology is perfected in the England of William III,
that is at a time when the King begins to apply his political theory of gravit
ation to the European continent. Huygens in Paris had come very near to a
gravitational theory; but it was Newton who first formulated it in exact terms.
In this theory of dynamics the monad represents absolute substance as
force; and an analogous relation obtains in politics, where the sovereign state
represents the absolute individual (or the personality of the monarch) as will.
4Les monades . . . arrière-petites-filles de Platon, et petites-nièces d'Aristote,
elles avaient eu cependant la main dans le gouvernement d'Athènes, et quoi qu'en
dise Hegel: 44yuoi/ù? i r o X i r e v e i - a i ", la monade est le fondement des Etats. . . .’105
The clearest indication of this relation is the fusion of politics and science
for the sake of a common purpose. They enter into a new personal union of
great future importance, for the absolute state must needs depend for its main
tenance upon absolute thought. 4The modern state and modern science
wrote Wilhelm Dilthey, 4belong together. The academies become the organs
which express and effect this alliance. And here lies the great importance of
these institutions in the century from the Peace of Westphalia to Frederick the
Great’s accession to the throne.’106
In 1635 Richelieu converted a private literary society, the Académie Fran
çaise, into a state-institute. In 1666 Colbert founded the Académie des Sciences,
conscious of the state’s increasing interest in scientific matters. In England it
was the Stuarts who granted a small company of natural philosophers (formed
in 1645) the charter of a Royal Society. The state now recognized that (as Leib
nitz wrote) 4it is no longer possible to leave telescopes, microscopes and an
improved logic unused, which would be like leaving unopened a case containing
precious spectacles and he exclaimed with some bitterness that just this was
happening in Germany. In the ’sixties he drew up his first plans for a forum
sapientiae, 4wherein learned men are to meet as freely as do merchants for the
sake of their transient affairs at the Leipsic Fair \ Like Colbert, he related the
future Academy directly to the state:
The foundation of such a Society will repair a wrong firmly established in many a
State, which consists in this: that each man is allowed to make his living as he will or can,
though he should enrich himself through the ruination of hundreds of others, or though
hundreds of others who relied upon him for their living should stumble and fall with
him. . . ,107
3
In economic matters, Germany was ruled by the law of the jungle, which
Leibnitz wished to replace by academic and political centralization; thus the
fusion of state and science was to solve economic difficulties, just as French
mercantilism had hoped to do. These political and economic aims distinguish
Leibnitz’s plans from all other contemporary German designs for learned
Societies, from all the Palm-trees o f Knowledge and Fruit-bearing Societies of
the time. 4They all worked more or less in secret,’ writes Dilthey of these
societies, 1encumbered by a whole rigmarole of signs and symbols, formulæ
and gradations. Their examples were the guilds and corporations, and also the
religious sects and orders. . . . To speculation in natural philosophy and theoso-
phism there was now added a temper of cheerfulness, efficiency and diligence
in matters of business and work, and an infinite amount of human love and
kindness .’108
Leibnitz was ever averse to obscurantism of any kind ; and yet he too, as a
young man, had been secretary to one of the Rosicrucian societies. And it is
probably this early connection that made him, at a much later date, draw up a
plan for a Societas Theophilorum ad celebrandas laudes Dei opponenda gliscenti
per orbem Atheismo.109 After the end of the Thirty Years’ War, secret societies
and religious sects were springing up in their hundreds. And even as a young
man Leibnitz was warning against an uncritical enthusiasm which greeted these
societies everywhere; thus he wrote in 1670: ‘ Nobody should hope to infuse
the sciences into men by means of Lullian doctrines ; Rosicrucian Illuminationes,
Elias philosophorum and other such rodomontades are commonly considered a
fool’s game.’110
At the end of the century Leibnitz drew up a comparison between the existing
European academies and his own plans; in his Mémoire pour les Personnes
éclairées of 1714 he writes:
Nostre siècle a vu naistre de belles sociétés, et il en a tiré de grandes utilités; mais
il pourroit aller encore bien au delà. Il y avait en Allemagne une société considérable
dont plusieurs membres estoient Princes de l’Empire, et autrement grands seigneurs,
ou du moins hommes distingués par les dignités et par le mérite; on l’appeloit S o c ie ta te m
fr u g ife ra m ', mais ils ne s’amusoient qu’à purger la langue au lieu de nous porter les fruits
qu’ils pouvoient. L 'A c a d é m ie fr a n ç o is e a. suivi quelque chose de leur plan pour ne rien
dire d élia C rusca de Florence, qui est plus ancienne. La S o c ié té R o y a le d’Angleterre a
des vues bien plus grandes et plus belles, et nous luy sommes infiniment redevables;
mais un peu trop d’attachement à des menues expériences leur a nui dans l’opinion du
vulgaire qui n’en pénètre point l’importance; il a fait même que le fruit a esté moindre
qu’il pu estre. Ce qui est encore plus vray dell* A c a d e m ia d e l C im e n to de Florence. U A c a
d é m ie R o y a le d e s S c ie n c e s de Paris est un corps établi et entretenu par son Roy. Elle
a donné quelques choses très importantes: Mais les guerres l’ont obligée de se resserrer
pour ne parler d’autres considérations et changements. La Société de plusieurs médicins
en Allemagne, qui ont pris le nom de C u rie u x d e la N a tu r e , est plus ancienne que les
autres qui travaillent aux sciences. Son premier but estoit de donner des livres que chaque
membre entreprenoit de publier sur quelques sujets naturels, mais plustôt de servir de
Répertoire qu’à donner des ouvertures. Enfin, toutes ces sociétés, se bornant à de certains
sujets ne sçauroient jouir assez des utilités qui résultent des combinaisons des sciences
différentes et des veues générales de la perfection humaine. . . .m
He adds that the German Princes are not sufficiently interested in the Academies ;
and ‘ il en a un grand point qui manque à ces sociétés, excepté /’Académie Royale
des Sciences de Paris, Fest qu'elles n'ont point de fonds ’.
But Leibnitz was not the only man to advocate a fusion of politics, eco
nomics and science. Joachim Jungius (d. 1657) and somewhat later Matthias
Bernegger (d. 1640) were making practical political plans for an ideal ‘forum
sapientiae ’.112 In Germany the Cartesian mode of thought had its first followers
in Johannes Clauberg (1622-1665) at the University of Herborn, Hermann
Conring (1606-1681) at the University of Helmstedt, and Erhard Weigel (1625-
1699) at Jena. These men exercised some influence upon Leibnitz113; his direct
predecessor was Johann Joachim Becher (1635-1682) of Hamburg. Becher’s
ideas on the fusion of politics and science have many affinities with the great
Utopias of Sir Thomas More, Francis Bacon and Campanella,1.14 and he was
Leibnitz’s great rival in many enterprises. He too had conceived of plans for
a.learned Society (which he had presented to the court at Vienna); and, like
Leibnitz, Becher was conducting experiments with phosphorus. In 1678 the
two men met in Hamburg; Leibnitz was immediately distrustful of Becher’s
‘ disproportio ingenii et iudicii ’,115 and listened with alarm to his enthusiastic
and wild notions about the combination of modern science and imperialistic
politics. Leibnitz’s controversy with the man was inspired by political as well
as scientific motives; a final account of it is contained in Becher’s polemical
Närrische Weisheit oder weise Narretey (‘ Foolish Wisdom or Wise Foolishness ’).
Another man who must here be mentioned is Johann Daniel Crafft (d. 1697).
He too was one of the many adventurous inventors and discoverers of the age.
He was among the first to concern himself with the problems of an economic
reconstruction of Germany. Behind an avalanche of foolish talk and extrava
gant ideas Crafft had a great deal of common sense; he was a man of thorough
knowledge, wide experience and great merits, and (unlike Becher) entirely honest
and kind-hearted. During his stay at Mainz Leibnitz entered into close friend
ship with Crafft, which lasted until the latter’s death thirty years later; their
correspondence is among the most voluminous Leibnitz conducted, and perhaps
the most intimate. Crafft kept Leibnitz informed about Becher’s doings in all
the European capitals ; he often prides himself in his letters on his many con
nections with the 6ingenious artists and artisans ’ who were all busy applying
the discoveries of modern science to their practical professional pursuits.116
8 -
But apart from these passionate practitioners and empiricists, the age teemed
with speculative theoreticians and mystics, who emerged from their religious
sects to revive the neo-Platonist cosmology of the Renaissance.
From the days of his studies at Leipzig onwards, Leibnitz endeavoured to
combine in his own mind two different outlooks. Apart from his studies in the
Aristoteleanism of the schools (which inspired his De Principio Individui of
1663), he came (through Erhard Weigel) under the influence of near-Platonic
scholasticism.117 The chief representative of this mystical element in modern
science is the Spaniard Raymond Lully (a contemporary of the German Meister
Eckhardt), whose mathematical mysticism made a deep impression on the young
Leibnitz. The 1Lullian art ’ and Rosicrucian alchemy were his first introduction
to higher mathematics and to Boyle’s chemistry; only at a later date, during his
stay in Paris, was he introduced by Huygens to scientific mathematics. The
Ars Combinatoria of 1666 has much in common with Lully’s mathematical
mysticism; for underlying this part of Leibnitz’s mathematical work there is
the same secret design by means of which ‘ combinations ’ are to be used for
the purpose of converting unbelievers. And the unmistakable metaphysical
passion behind Leibnitz’s scholastic formalism will later become the inspiration
of the Scientia Generalis. The Lullian way to faith, to the motiva credibilitatis,
soon failed him. But his studies in modern mathematics118 once more revived
Leibnitz’s hopes of finding with its aid a re-integration of knowledge and faith;
a number of theological drafts written at Mainz and at Hanover bear witness
to his preoccupation with these thoughts.119 He never made up his mind be
tween the prophets of technology and the Messianic mystics and speculators,
such as Johann Andreae, Valentin Weigel and Comenius. He remained critical
of both, and retained a clear vision not merely of the German situation, but of
Europe as a whole; hence we must briefly survey some of the intellectual centres
of the time.
From England a strong influence spread to the Continent from the Cam
bridge Platonists around Henry More (1614-1687) of Christ’s College. Having
rejected the old peripatetic philosophy, this circle was searching for a new mode
of thought compatible with the new method and findings of inductive mathe
matics. Newton’s teacher Isaac Barrow (1630-1677) was profoundly influenced
by More,120 and his geometry bears many traces of Platonism. Robert Boyle
(1627-1691) too had many connections with the Cambridge circle; he was
deeply convinced that Descartes’s mechanics explained only a part of the pheno
mena of nature; without God, he claimed, no complete account of the world
can be given. Leibnitz first met the Cambridge Platonists in January 1673;
somewhat later he studied Henry More’s works.121 And Henry Oldenburg
(1626-1678), first Secretary of the Royal Society, kept him constantly informed
on all the scientific and philosophical topics discussed in England at that time.
The French reply to the mechanistic theories of the universe came from
Port Royal, where a revival of Augustinian doctrines had taken place. Here
it was above all Antoine Arnauld (1612-1694) who attracted Leibnitz’s atten
tion. His first letter to Arnauld (who was his senior by thirty-four years) remained
unanswered ; and it was not until Leibnitz came to Paris that the two men had
at last occasion to discuss the many geometrical problems that interested them.122
The figure of Pascal (1623-1662) remains somewhat in the background; on one
occasion, however, the Duke of Roanez mentioned him, impressing upon
Leibnitz the use of mathematics for the purpose of converting free-thinkers.
More important for Leibnitz is Simon Foucher (1644-1696), ‘ le restaurateur de
la philosophie académicienne ’, who in 1676 first drew his attention to Plato.
Leibnitz’s excerpts and translations from the Phaedo and Theœtetus (compiled
at that time) bear witness to an intensive study of Platonism.123
As to Germany, Leibnitz became acquainted with its neo-Platonic renais
sance through German mysticism, which he read during his school-days; he
wrote at that time of his attempts ‘ to give better sense to its [mysticism’s] con
fused thoughts and of his plans ‘ to make use of its vivid and impressive
images in order the more strongly to move men’s minds \ 124 Valentin Weigel
and van Helmont were the main theosophists whose works he read with great
enthusiasm; but even excerpts from the writings of such visionary zealots as
Paul Lautensack, Quirinus Kuhlmann and Rosamunde of Asseburg appear
among his notes.125 Nor did Leibnitz later lose his early interest in mysticism;
even in his last letters he often defended its adherents, calling them the poets
among the theologians.126 With Frans Mercurius van Helmont, however, Leib
nitz had many actual interests in common, and in spite of a great difference in
age there are many intellectual affinities between the two men; and thus Hel-
m ont’s life and his way of thinking deserve somewhat closer attention. For in
discussing Helmont’s thought we hope to bring out once again Leibnitz’s many
affinities with the contemporary ways of thought, and to show that the only
thing which distinguishes him from other contemporary thinkers is his highly
conscious and urgent sense of commitment to the problems of his age.
F. M. Helmont was the son of the famous physician J. B. Helmont, a fol
lower of Paracelsus. He was born near Brussels in 1614, two years before the
publication of Johann Andreae’s Chymische Hochzeit. This accidental coinci
dence marks a fundamental change in outlook; for the son’s restless mind was
no longer contented with the father’s scientific methods and aims. He no longer
accepted the division between physical science and theology as axiomatic, but
strove towards a unification of all knowledge in a single Scientia Generalis. The
boy was soon regarded by his aristocratic relations as something of an eccentric.
In his edition of his father’s works (published 1644-1656) he calls himself a
wandering recluse and says that he became ‘ a philosophus through the One in
which All is contained His peregrination took him to all the capitals of
Europe; in 1648 he went to the Emperor’s court to take part in a number of
diplomatic embassies. For ten years he was in the service of the Elector of
Mainz, \yho raised Helmont to the rank of a count. Here he first met Leibnitz.
In a letter to the young lawyer, Boineburg calls Helmont ‘ homo omnium lite-
rarum insciens et suae spontis in religione, cetera sic sat probus in communi vitae
but even this did not prevent the young Leibnitz from entering into contact with
him. Later we find Helmont in Rome, where he was persecuted by the Inquisi
tion for his heretical views ; henceforth he was not allowed to return to Catholic
Mainz. Instead, he went to live with the neighbouring Count Palatine at Sulz-
bach, where he was greatly honoured as a theosophist; he made friends with
the Palatine Chancellor Knorr von Rosenroth, author of the famous Kabbala
Denudata (published 1677-1684). As an enemy alike of the Church and of the
political hierarchy, Helmont now went to England and joined (for a brief time)
the Quakers. After the death of Lady Conway, his English patroness, he
published his smaller philosophical writings in a book called The Paradoxical
Discourses o f F. M. van Helmont (1685). During the last years of his life we
find him once more in Germany; first at the court of the Electress Sophia in
Hanover (where he frequently met Leibnitz), later at the court of the Electress
of Brandenburg in Berlin. He died in Cleves in the house of a relation in 1699.
His adventurous life is reflected in his writings : a vast collection of inventions,
plans, prescriptions, formulæ and curious calculations on past and future
events; violent attacks on Descartes, Spinoza and Hobbes; sketches for a
mechanistic cosmology; empiricist and sensualist theories; and cabalistic and
mystical theories of number—all these lie jumbled up in his countless papers.
Yet everything he wrote was inspired by his enthusiastic plans for the Academies
in which he hoped to see his projects executed; and all his projects were con
ceived with a view to their immediate practical application. His 6 natural ’
Hebrew alphabet, for instance, was to be used for curing the deaf and dumb;
he devised a mechanical method for curing scoliosis—claiming that an English
woman had opened a hospital in London in which the method was used with
great success; he had cures for every kind of ailment, affliction and debility.
Yet the ultimate purpose of all his speculations was once again a reunion of
the Churches; already he saw secret signs of the future Universal Church that
would be proclaimed in the new century. Leibnitz, though more cautious and
sober in his hopes, shared Helmont’s belief that this future Church could only
be of permanent benefit to the peoples of Europe if it were armed with all the
ideas of the new science. In this belief Leibnitz founded in 1700 the Berlin
Academy. In Helmont’s mind (as in Leibnitz’s) this scientific chiliasm was
inextricably linked with philosophical doctrine. The aim was to reconcile
theology with the ‘ philosophia reformata ’. Basing his views on the separation
of the creature from the Creator, Helmont claimed that God had created only
the seeds of all things. He saw God’s work as an act of informing and cultivating
of these seeds, which he called monads; this term Leibnitz took over from Hel
mont in 1696. Helmont’s monadology remained little more than a ‘ metaphysical
poem ’ ; and it was Leibnitz’s ambition to solve its many inherent contradictions.
The importance of Helmont’s monadology lies in its being built upon an entirely
new concept of man. Man was viewed as a ‘ complicatio ’ of all other creatures.
He is a ‘ microcosm ’ in which all seeds are contained. In this, and in his ever
present urge to develop and cultivate these seeds, lies the perennial dignity of
man. Helmont’s (and Leibnitz’s) image of man is only real in so far as the
doctrine of original sin can be disposed of by genetic, moral and psychological
explanations. The problem of a theodicy remains the insoluble central riddle,
the ‘ blind spot ’, of Leibnitz’s and Helmont’s rational and mystical cosmo
logies. For they too fail, as Kant says, ‘ to introduce evil as a negative quantity
into philosophy ’.
In Leibnitz’s Monadology we shall find echoes of all these European trends of
thought: of Helmont, Henry More and Jan Amos Komensky (Comenius);
of the symbolical language of Plotinus and Nicholas of Cusa, whose concept of
a universal centre as the point of coincidence of individual centres Leibnitz
translated from theology into anthropology and biology; and of a number of
earlier and contemporary German thinkers.127
Intellectual circles all over Europe—Christ’s College Cambridge, Port
Royal, the University of Herborn, the courts of the German Princes, the Mora
vian Brethren—were all engaged in a common search for a synthesis of the
mystical and the mathematical modes of thought. 'With each of these groups
Leibnitz was in personal contact,128 everywhere he was searching for the founda
tions of a new spiritual and ethical order.
Leibnitz was both an empiricist and a theoretician, an ‘ ingenious artist ’ and
a mystic at one and the same time. A genuine philosophical tension informed
all his thinking ; to resolve this tension between theory and practice both within
himself129 and in the scientific activities of his age remained his chief task in
life. The poet Andreas Gryphius’s Dissertationes Funebres (1666) show how
common was the experience of this tension.130 In Germany the discussion on
the issue between theory and practice was opened by the publication, in 1672, o f
Otto von Guericke’s Experimenta Nova, in the introduction to which all specu
lative physics was uncompromisingly rejected.131 Greatly stimulated by Gue
ricke’s radical empiricism, Leibnitz immediately started a lively correspondence
with him; for he would not allow empiricism to rule all speculation out of
court.132 The mathematical mode of thought (he believed) offers the only means
of avoiding the error of countless dilettantes and ‘ inventores ’—the error of
wishing to fuse technical problems with fanciful speculation. This is the danger
he saw in the works of men like Erhard Weigel and Joachim Becher. Leibnitz’s
clear and critical awareness of the antithetic nature of both modes of knowledge
is most explicit in the two treatises of 1671, the Theoria motus abstracti and the
Theoria motus concreti. With a perfect understanding of the intellectual situa
tion in the different capitals of Europe he sent the former treatise to the Car
tesian Académie des Sciences, the latter to the Royal Society.
Yet the mathematician Leibnitz is only one of the many guises of the restless
seeker after God. Consciously he endeavoured to rationalize the religious
tradition that had been handed down to him, to integrate the terms of Christian
faith within a reasoned and reasonable view of the world, in brief to introduce
into European thinking the process of secularization. Yet here too he entered
upon a discussion of long standing. Probably nearest to his views are the doc
trines of Comenius, whose Pansophiae Prodromus of 1639 (a mathematical
demonstration of the 1universal science ’) has many traits in common with
Leibnitz’s later Scientia Generalis. In his Epicedium of 1671 and in a memoran
dum on Comenius, Leibnitz shows a detailed knowledge of his work and claims
the laurels of immortality for Comenius’s pansophic and educational ideas.133
It was probably Comenius who introduced Leibnitz to the work of Nicholas of
Cusa; for, surprisingly enough, it appears that Leibnitz knew the work of his
Renaissance predecessor only at second hand.134 And, we may add, it was
through Comenius that Goethe was introduced to Leibnitz’s philosophy.
The uneasy relation between rationalism and mysticism is one of the most
remarkable aspects of the late Baroque. All scientists of the day attempted to
modify the new language of mathematical thought in such a way as to be able
to include in their concept of a finite world the concept of the actual infinity of
God. In this way mathematicians came to hold the view that they could grasp
and express the incalculable in exact terms. The religious question still loomed
large behind all political, cultural and philosophical problems of the age; and
at this point we enter the religious controversy. Passionately contested since
the Reformation, this controversy had, since Descartes’s methodological en
quiry, once more become the object of philosophical reflection. The link be
tween politics and religion was still strong; the Church—in the German terri
torial states no less than in France—had once more become the instrumentum
regni. The universal order of the Middle Ages was alive in post-Tridentine
Catholicism no less than in Western European Calvinism. Religious indivi
dualism, now reinforced by the Cartesian concept of the sovereign self-con
sciousness of man, made its appearance: in Spain and France among the
Quietists, in Germany among the Pietists, and in England among the Puritans
and Quakers. There is a liveliness and vigour about all these new religious
movements which recalls the scientific optimism of the age. As to Leibnitz, he
lived both in this enlightened world—‘ in religione suae spontis ’—and in a
world of longing for a mediaeval Imperial universalism. He saw himself as
‘ Pacidius ’—a bringer of peace. And behind his attempts at a reunion of the
Churches lies his own experience of 6the bitter strife of religions ’ in Mainz,
Hanover and Vienna.
CHAPTER IV
THE CRISIS IN THE CHRISTIAN TRADITION

1
The conflict between the individual and the universal views of life was no
where more violent than in religious matters. Luther’s Evangelical message had
laid claims to universal validity such as only the Gospels possessed; and by
means of its political influence on Estates and Empire, this primarily religious
movement hoped to bring about a general Reformation. In this, owing to
various political complications, the Reformation failed. And its outcome (in
spite of Luther’s efforts to avert it) was the formation of a number of conflicting
‘ Confessions \ The legal and official recognition of all these doctrinal organiza
tions, and the national and political segregation of individual groups (Calvinism,
Jansenism, Anglicanism, Puritanism), brought about an entirely new situation.
Instead of one Church and one dogma there were now several; the theological
exegesis of Christian Revelation (which before had been an harmonious con
versation between various movements within the Una Sancta) now turned
into an open quarrel. Who holds the right doctrine? Who is the legitimate heir
to the ecclesiastical inheritance? were the questions which the disputations
set out to answer. Academic altercations about the primacy of doctrine soon
turned into the Religious Wars; and they again often became savage internecine
wars in which the struggle for the ‘ true faith ’ was fought out to the bitter end.
The philosophical controversy of late scholasticism took place equally in
the peripatetic schools of the Reformation (Melanchthon and Weigel) and in
the Jesuit schools of Suarez’s moral philosophy; after Descartes this contro
versy became once more the common concern of Europe. For as the problem
of the reunion of the Churches became urgent, so the controversy became at
once philosophical and theological. Leibnitz took part in this controversy with
a heart heavy and divided. A union of the Churches and ‘ Confessions ’ meant
to him not only European peace and reconciliation, but also an inner peace and
reconciliation of his Christian conscience. The eagerness with which he and his
contemporaries embraced the ideas of reunion and tolerance had political,
clerical and above all psychological motives. But behind the will to peace there
loomed the religious will to power, which wrecked all attempts at reconciliation.
At the beginning of the century Rome (and thus Italy) ceased to play a
vital part in European politics; instead, individual national interests became
the moving forces everywhere. To illustrate this we need only recall that Riche
lieu, a Cardinal of the Holy See, was able to conclude, on behalf of France, and
for purely political gains, an alliance with Protestant Germany. Papal uni-
versalism lost almost half the Continent; the consolidation of the Church took
place slowly and systematically. In 1564 the Professio Fidei Tridentinae was
published; having defined the position of the Pope and of Rome, and the pri
macy of the Roman Catholic Church, the Declaration then speaks of the ‘ vera
catholica fides, extra quam nemo salus esse potest ’. The Society of Jesus led
the forces of Rome. St. Ignatius Loyola’s Collegium Germano-Hungarium was
as it were the headquarters from which the campaign for a re-conversion of
T H E C R IS IS IN T H E C H R IS T IA N T R A D IT IO N 67
Germany was conducted; simultaneously, Pius V introduced reforms in the
Church. The consolidation of the Catholic forces was so successful that by the
time the universities of Central Europe introduced Suarez’s Disputationes meta-
physicae, educational posts in many parts of Germany were already held by
Jesuits.135
In the Reformed Churches on the other hand the relation between secular
power and Christian faith remained undetermined. After many vain attempts
a Protestant Formula o f Concord was devised in 1580. Luther’s Evangelical and
Charles’s Catholic ideas of Empire dissolved simultaneously into a myth.
Luther’s demand that the statesman should rule not as a Christian but as a
6worldly person ’ presupposed a determination and strength of mind and
character such as no seventeenth-century Prince could muster. The Princes
wished to rule alike as 6worldly ’ and ‘ spiritual ’ persons—in fact they were
inconsistent and weak in either capacity. In so far as they followed Luther and
ruled by the law of might, they defected from being Christians; and in so far
as their Christian conscience prevented them from taking the plunge into power-
politics, they failed as secular statesmen; in brief, theirs was neither the Cross
nor the sword.136 And conversion appeared to them as the only way out of
this dilemma; Leibnitz’s patron Duke John Frederick of Hanover, and his
friend the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels, are among the many who
took this step. Leibnitz as a servant of these Princes came thus to be intimately
acquainted with their spiritual dilemma, and discussed their experience in many
of his letters.137
Luther’s conception of the Church-State relation was destroyed in the con
flict between Christianity and power. While proclaiming the ‘ divine office ’ of
government, Luther had drawn a sharp distinction between the office and its
holder. Now on the other hand the person of a Prince was idolized even when
he failed in his office; the divine nature of the institution was interpreted as
the inviolability of the ruler’s person. Luther’s concern had been with the
sovereignty of the state, which was now interpreted as the absolute sovereignty
of the Prince. Luther had given the Prince—in his capacity of first among the
Bishops of the land—jurisdiction over the Church as well as over the state;
now, on the contrary, government devolved more and more upon the spiritual
advisers and chaplains-in-ordinary of the troubled Princes. And instead of the
old loyalty of a country to its traditional denomination, the private creed of
the Prince (e.g. ‘ Gnoseo-Lutheran ’, Philippist, Calvinist, Socinian, Puritan)
was now enforced throughout his territories. All these sects represented
defections from the doctrine of the Reformation; and these 6heresies ’ in their
turn evoked ardent protest from a multitude of Lent Preachers, Quietists,
Pietists and Quakers.
The Catholic campaign against this chaotic multiplicity of heterodoxies was
launched with the aid of the Austrian Hapsburgs and the Bavarian Wittelsbachs,
and from here the rest of Germany was to be converted. Erudition and an
appeal to the conscience were the means with which the Jesuits attempted to
bring the Protestant Princes back into the fold. In accordance with the directives
of Pope Gregory XIII, the spiritual principalities of the Empire, viz. Augsburg,
Passau, Münster, Osnabrück, Trier, Salzburg, Bamberg, Paderborn, Fulda,
Würzburg and Cologne were all regained. Most of the episcopal seats were
filled with Wittelsbach or Hapsburg Princes, and their subjects forcibly con
verted. All this was happening under the very eyes of the German Princes, who
were too much at odds with one another to be able to change the course of
3*
events. The text-books of the time show how Lutherans and Calvinists alike
were ready to accept the scholastic theology of Suarez. The Jesuits’ success was,
it seems, due less to their educational and philosophical achievements than to
the spiritual poverty and frustration of their opponents. And in a letter to
Ernest of Hesse (1681)138 Leibnitz mentions how quickly the Jesuits lose their
intellectual ascendency once they have captured most of the Chairs in the arts
faculties of German Universities. In this letter the Lutheran Leibnitz betrays a
secret admiration for the Societas Jesu, and his plans for a more 4enlightened ’
Societas TheophUorum are attempts to emulate Jesuit ideas.139 Leibnitz’s ideas
of 4confraternities however, show how much the intellectual situation of the
last thirty years of the century had changed. For by then Christianity was
divided into doctrine and faith. The Christian tradition was no longer the object
of a transcendent faith, but of enlightened enquiry. Christian doctrine was
turned into a scientific ideology of the esprits éclairés et bien intentionnés (Leib
nitz counts himself one of their number), while faith became increasingly private
and individualized.
Leibnitz’s chosen position is, once again, at the very centre of the argument.
He hoped that his Characteristica Universalis would enable Jesuits, Lutherans
and Calvinists alike to modify their polemical theologies in favour of an en
lightened 4Natural Religion ’ ; for thus only (he believed) could Christianity
be buttressed against an uncertain future: 4Je ne croy p a s \ he writes to the
Landgrave of Hesse, 4qu’on puisse trouver un moyen plus puissant pour avancer
la religion chrestienne puisque de la manière que f explique tout in opere demon
strationum je la fais voir toute sainte et toute raisonnable,’140 In this juxtaposi
tion of the saintly and the reasonable lies the religious problem of the age of
Baroque. Luther had maintained that the Catholic doctrine of merit was in
compatible with the doctrine of Grace; this was the ‘ contradiction’ he had
banished from his own statement of faith.141 In returning to this problem,
Catholic theology became involved in a number of internal disputes which
widened the gulf between the two conceptions. Thus Michael Bajus, who taught
since 1551 at the University of Louvain, attempted to combine the doctrines of
SS. Augustine and Thomas in one doctrine, inclining however towards Augus-
tinian views. In spite of clinging to his orthodox beliefs, Bajus came to the
conclusion that original sin involves man in absolute evil; hence man, he
claimed, is not free to choose good; and hence the human will without Grace is
wholly sinful. His doctrine, a direct challenge to the Catholic doctrine of justi
fication by Grace and merit, was banned in 1567 by Pius V, and Bajus submitted
to Papal authority. He submitted once more in 1580, when Gregory XIII re
peated the ban. But another scholar from the University of Louvain, Cornelius
Jansen (1585-1638), followed in Bajus’s footsteps and arrived at an even more
radical interpretation of the Augustinian doctrine. The dispute which thence
arose between Jesuits and Jansenists continued into Leibnitz’s day and involved
not only Holland, but (after Pascal’s arrival on the scene) France as well.142
In Western Germany Jansenism was popularized by pietists and religious en
thusiasts of all sorts, among them Jean de Labadie, Pierre Poiret and Antoinette
de Bourignon. The internal Catholic dispute thus assumed European dimen
sions, and a synthesis of the doctrine of original sin with the doctrine of justi
fication by merit appeared wholly unattainable.
Nor was the dilemma of God’s omnipotence and man’s freedom to do good
works solved. The Spanish Jesuit Molina (1535-1600) attempted in vain such a
synthesis, and Leibnitz continued the quest in philosophical terms in his
Theodicy ; we have already mentioned how important this problem was to him
and to his contemporaries.143 Molina subordinated God’s omnipotence to His
omniscience, which enables God to know beforehand the actions of man’s
free will, and subsequently to will just these actions. But in this manner divine
omnipotence was ultimately made dependent upon the will of man. The attempt
to fuse God’s omnipotence and man’s freedom secured the concept of man’s
free will and thus the Catholic doctrine of merit. In his Theodicy Leibnitz writes
that 4 Molina and Fonseca were among the first to bring order into these mat
ters ’ ;144 and he makes it his task to perfect this system. The conclusion of his
reflection leads (outside the religious issue) to a postulate of the absolute auto
nomy of the Cartesian res cogitans. Molina’s doctrine was opposed by the
Dominican Banez of Salamanca, who, basing his views, like Molina, on the
authority of St. Thomas, claimed that man is free to act as he wills, yet needs
must act in accordance with God’s decision. But this led once again to a denial
of man’s freedom. Banez continued the argument to its conclusion: man’s
merit becomes dependent upon divine omnipotence. Thus Banez found himself
in a position very near to Luther’s, and was on the point of denying man’s free
dom; yet this would have involved him in direct conflict with the Catholic
doctrine of justification by merit.
A violent conflict now flared up between Banez and Molina, Dominicans
and Jesuits.145 The Popes were no longer able to decide between the contesting
parties, and in 1611 Paul V, without deciding in favour of either party, put the
controversy under ban. Yet neither this ban nor Francis Suarez’s doctrine of
Grace, in which he attempted (with the aid of the Jesuit General Claudius
Aquaviva) to complete Molina’s system, can dispose of this fundamental human
problem. For the controversy will arise wherever the attempt is made to answer
the question from first principles, i.e. from the fundamental points of view of
faith or of science.146
These dogmatic differences weakened the forces of the Counter-Reformation ;
Luther’s 4victory ’ over Rome could not be reversed. Leibnitz too enquired into
the 4use of reason in theology ’ ; beyond all denominational controversies147 he
attempted to fix the limits of faith and reason, 4for the uncertainty about these
limits has surely evoked many grave conflicts in the world, and even great
disorders. At least this much is obvious: that until these limits have been
determined, all disputes are in vain, for when disputing about faith we must
needs do it with the aid of reason.’148
Yet this attempt at determining its limits did not lead Leibnitz (as it had Pierre
Bayle) to postulate a radical difference between faith and knowledge, or between
Grace and the will; it led him to subordinate faith to reason. Reason to him
(and to his contemporaries) is 4 a natural revelation of which God is the author ’,
and revelation 4a supernatural reason, that is a reason enriched by new dis
coveries emanating directly from God ’. And therefore (he continues), 4to
proscribe reason in order to make way for revelation would be to pluck out
one’s eyes in order the better to see the satellites of Jupiter through a tele
scope \ 149
The original religious forces of the Evangelical movement, Luther’s 4sola
fide ’ and Calvin’s 4soli Deo gloria ’, were spent. The autonomy of knowledge
and of the will invalidated the Protestant experience of the 4sola gratia ’ ; reli
gious life was focused in the extremes of a newly-established orthodoxy on one
hand, and of pietism and extravagant religious enthusiasm (which gradually
petered out) on the other. Leibnitz (like many of his contemporaries in the last
years of the century) remained critical of both these extremes ; his aloofness is
significant of the profound change in men’s attitude towards the Christian
tradition. His attempts at psychological explanations of the 4 tempers of dog
matism and enthusiasm ’ are entirely consistent with the theistic ideology of
Enlightenment.150
2
But while the Protestant movement of Central Europe continued to drift
aimlessly between the 4 theologia polemica ’ and mystical enthusiasm, Calvin
came to regard his stronghold Geneva as a starting-point from which to conquer
the world for the cause of an uncompromisingly consistent and rigorous doc
trine of extreme Protestantism. Hence the century between the defeat of the
Spanish Armada (1588) and the 4 Glorious Revolution ’ (1688) was dominated
by the conflict between Calvin and Loyola. While in Central Europe Reforma
tion and Counter-Reformation squabbled here over a small Imperial town or
there over a few bishoprics, great decisive battles between France, Spain, Eng
land and Holland, between the representatives of Catholic and Protestant
universalism, were fought out in Canada, on the Mississippi, in China and in
India. The Chinese mission of the French and Roman Jesuits, the Northern
American mission of English Puritans and Dutch Quakers, or Peter the Great’s
plans for a world council—all these movements interested Leibnitz intimately
from a political no less than from a religious point of view.151
Like Jesuitism, Calvinism in the seventeenth century was an international
movement; William of Orange was its chief political representative. The na
tional, e.g. Anglican, Puritan and Quietist, forms of Calvinism were all held
together by the militant Protestant idea of Empire; this idea it is which links
Gustavus Adolphus’s unsuccessful European plans during the Thirty Years’
War with Cromwell’s 4 Greater Britain The Calvinist interpretation of the
doctrine of predestination led to the English Puritans’ view of themselves as
chosen by God. There is an atmosphere of Old Testament vigour about the
parliamentary and military activities of the Independents, and about the Pil
grim Fathers’ emigrations to America (after 1620). In the second half of the
century Puritanism returned to Europe as a universal Church. Quakers now
began to flock to Germany with the zeal of missionaries in heathen lands. In
this mood William Penn, Robert Barclay and George Fox travelled through
Western and Northern Germany (1677), and their influence spread far and wide.
The Countess Palatine Elizabeth (a sister of the Electress Sophia of Hanover),
whose foundation at Herborn was one of the Quakers’ strongholds in Germany,
remarked to Penn that the historical process was being repeated and that Ger
many was once more being christianized from England. The activities of the
Quakers in Germany preceded the rise of pietism; William Penn’s first visit
to Germany in 1671 was followed by the publication, in 1675, of Jacob Spener’s
Pia Desideria. We shall have occasion to speak of Leibnitz’s participation in
this movement.
As regards political and social matters, Lutheranism had been conservative
and, in its attitude to the Princes, servile; its emphasis lay on individual piety.
Western Calvinism on the other hand was inspired by the same dominating will
as the Counter-Reformation. Calvinism was essentially a town-movement; its
followers were mainly merchants and artisans; and its influence spread from
the great cities of London, Amsterdam and Antwerp over the whole world.
While this is not the place to give a detailed account of the social and political
importance of the movement,152 it is necessary to examine at least the influence
of Calvinism upon the ethos of modern European man; for in Leibnitz’s Mona-
dology (a work outside all theological doctrine) this ethos became for the first
time conscious of itself.153 Calvinism and Cartesianism are the boundary-lines
within which Leibnitz’s scheme for a reunion of faith and knowledge was con
ceived, yet his synthesis—a scientific self-consciousness which has nothing in
common with Christian Revelation—broke through the limitations of this
dualism. The radical dichotomy between the soul {cogitatio) and the world
{extensio), or between Grace and the will, led to such practical consequences as
Hobbes’s doctrine of sovereignty, contemporary political and religious absolut
ism, the despotism of the sovereign’s will (as depicted in Mars Christianissimus),
and religious enthusiasm. These were consequences which the conservative
Lutheran Leibnitz must needs challenge and fight wherever he can;154 yet as
diplomat, philosopher and Continental reunionist he tacitly approved of this
development, and in some of his topical essays even furthered it. The diplomat
and enlightened philosophe carried the day over the practising Lutheran. Thus
he betrayed the voice of his conscience and the cause of the Reformation, and
completed the process of secularization of the Evangelical message among the
educated classes of the age. But thus also he laid the metaphysical foundations
of the scientific self-consciousness of man and of modern personalist ethics;
the anti-Reformation character of his reflection is unmistakable. Inevitably,
paradoxical situations arose—as when he felt called upon to challenge the
Huguenot Bayle, who was ready to accept the full consequences of his Protestant
commitment; for in the face of Bayle’s profoundly serious assertion 4credo
quia absurdum ’, Leibnitz’s own enlightened 6Natural Religion ’ failed to in
spire him with anything but uneasiness.
The dogmatic interpretation of the Reformation is thus seen to lead, first,
to a final secularization of the Christian faith, and secondly, to a conscious
heightening of the autonomous individuality of man (in Cartesianism) and of
his religious personality (in Calvinism). This development in its turn results in
a theory of Protestant universalism, which must needs bring about a violent
conflict with the Catholic Church. This conflict determined the power-political
situation of the Christian West after the Peace of Westphalia in much the same
way as it had done before, except that open warfare was now replaced by diplom
atic altercations and discussions which, it must be added, were from time to
time inspired by a genuine desire for peace. Leibnitz, the real initiator of these
discussions, attempted to represent in his own person the conflicting interests of
Protestants, Calvinists, Jansenists, Jesuits, Franciscans, and Papists; and his
attempt is as it were symbolic of the course of the Christian tradition since
Luther’s days. This course—from Protestant individualism through Calvin’s
personalist doctrine to Leibnitz’s monadological subjectivism—must now be
briefly traced.155
Calvin’s act of dogmatically fixing Luther’s religious experience of* the soul’s
solitude with God ’ resulted in a doctrine even more severely individualistic than
Luther’s. For if it is true (thus ran the Calvinist argument) that the salvation of
every soul is determined from the beginning of time in accordance with in
scrutable decrees, and therefore can be gained neither by merit nor even by
Grace; if, further, there is no way of determining whether ‘ the seizure o f
salvation ’ through a self-conscious act of the soul’s passionate exertion (which
Luther had preached) is not 4the work of devilish deception ’—then indeed the
solitary soul on its journey through this world is irrevocably committed to a
single course: it must prove itself worthy of its predestined salvation (even
though this worthiness remains ultimately indeterminable) by means of a pious
life on one hand, and by enterprises and institutions of all kinds, wisely founded
to the greater glory of God, on the other. This then was the ethos upon which
the absolute state was founded; 4 God’s glory and fame ’ was the explicit mean
ing of this state. A man’s fame and his worthiness of salvation are one; not
merely because worldly fame is the sole means of ascertaining his worthiness,
but because the human institutions of Church, the state, its economy and
1Societies ’ of all kinds, are conceived of as images and analogies of th e 4Heavenly
Jerusalem \ Inevitably, as this worthiness came to be interpreted in rational
istic terms as a civic duty, its proof assumed the form of philosophical and
political systems and mechanisms of baroque magnificence and spiritual empti
ness. The worldly institution became (in Spinoza’s words) an 4automaton spiri
tuale ’, and its spiritual purpose—the glorification of God—was soon forgotten.
Colbert’s economic system; thé foundation of scientific (e.g. Académie Fran
çaise) and commercial (e.g. the East India Company) societies 4ad majorem
Dei gloriam ’ ; and finally absolutist bureaucracy with its codified scheme of
rights and duties, with its assessment of the individual not in terms of love but
of achievement—these were the concrete consequences of the Calvinist ethos.
And in his -firm belief that these institutions truly serve 4the greater glory of
God in this world ’,156 Leibnitz was committed to their maintenance. Yet he
was also aware that these institutions were in fact cut off from their transcendent
source, that they served the glory not of God, but of the absolute sovereign,
that the Leviathan is a 4mortal god ’. Hence he raised his voice in protest
against the theoretical consequences (in Hobbes’s work), and the practical
application, of the Calvinist doctrine ; he set out to give a metaphysical founda
tion of his faith in God as an harmonious (not a despotic) Being, and of his belief
in the 4predestined harmony ’ of the world.157 The style of his Theodicy leaves
us in no doubt that he was aware of the urgency and importance of his task.
A second aspect of Calvinism remains to be considered, which has especial
importance for the Puritans and Quakers, and eventually also for German
pietism: its emphasis upon the active life of the individual, upon work and
strife. This aspect, which to Leibnitz was an essential part of his Christian
belief, he established as the very core of his metaphysics. Leibnitz’s own life
is, after all, the best example of the Calvinist paradox that only he has sufficient
courage to change this world who is convinced that in a higher sense all pro
visions have already been made by the Power whose humble tool he professes to
be. Leibnitz’s definition of the 4Fatum Christianum ’ (in the Preface to the
Theodicy) is an expression of just this paradoxical attitude; and, we may add,
a whole century will accept it as its precept.158 His ideas about the obligation
inherent in the pursuit of science have an unmistakable ring of Lutheran indi
vidualism; yet his scientific optimism corresponds to the mood of religious
enthusiasm which reached a new peak in the last third of the century.
3
Let us now briefly consider the new generation of religionists, zealots and
enthusiasts, who enlivened the European scene after the end of the Wars of
Religion. In the midst of the contemporary moral, social and intellectual chaos
they attempted to maintain a position above the conflict of parties and doc
trines, a position outside the common tradition. To them the idea of Christ’s
second coming was a genuine and live experience; for what they had in mind
was not some uncertain event in the near or distant future, but His immediate
emergence in the very midst of this disputatious and murderous multitude of
4 Christians This chiliastic idea was born during the Wars themselves, in an
atmosphere of violence and hatred; the idea was critical and distrustful of the
existing denominations, for ultimately it implied a rejection of the later develop
ment of the Reformed Churches. Not only the Church of Rome but all other
Churches appeared to this new movement as the works of the antichrist,159
although differences were recognized ; for it goes without saying that the Protes
tant origin of the movement was never entirely obscured. All these Churches (the
enthusiasts claim) had no other purpose than to externalize and thus destroy
4the only true religion the religion of inner illumination. The new 4 Church ’
of these spiritualists, pietists and 4religious ’, on the other hand, was to be
4impartial Christianity ’ (as Gottfried Arnold and Leibnitz call it) without a
visible Church or ritual organization; this airy vision of a 4 spiritual Church ’
was to be found among the English Quakers no less than among the German
spiritualist followers of Valentin Weigel and Jacob Boehme, among the French
Quietist followers of Poiret, and the Dutch Labadists. This new form of the
religious consciousness was a common European phenomenon. And as such it
was closely linked with the Cartesian revolution, for the a priori nature of the
Cartesian sovereign reason is analogous to the new emphasis upon the 4inner
man and upon man’s freedom to subject existing Churches and institutions to
passionate criticism. Furthermore, George Fox’s 4inner light that shineth ’
must needs deny all validity to the concept of a divinely revealed external world,
for man himself was now the centre of the revealed world. In this new and
essentially self-centred religious sentiment the Cartesian self-consciousness
found its most adequate expression. If man is the centre of the revealed world,
then his duty to fashion the world according to his own designs becomes obvious
and indisputable.
Gottfried Arnold’s Unpartheyische Kirchen-und Ketzerhistorie vom Anfang
des neuen Testaments biss auff das Jahr Christi 1688 (4An Impartial History of
Churches and Heretics from the Beginning of the New Testament to the Year of
our Lord 1688 ’) contains the first history of German spiritualism. Its author,
a Professor of History at the University of Giessen, dedicated his work to
Frederick III of Brandenburg, 4in whose land he wrote, 4all subjects five in
a state of inviolate freedom of conscience ’. Arnold expressed the ultimate aim
of all the 4religious ’ of his day when he wrote th a t4from the Gospel’s beginning
and from the days of the Apostles onwards, the true and unsullied community
has ever been Christ’s virgin and bride ’ ; and therefore, he continued, 41 feel
compelled by my impartial love and peaceful intentions towards all men to forgo
all disputatious judgments, quarrelsome expressions and contentious doctrine,
and to uphold my office of honest historian by no other means but that of im
partial relation [of past events] ’. This, too, was Leibnitz’s attitude in his Theo
dicy, it heralds the 4coming age of Light ’ and its new doctrine of tolerance.
Yet it is equally patent that Arnold’s concept of an 4impartial Christianity ’
issued from the depths of religious despair, and that it was informed by a temper
utterly alien to Leibnitz. Arnold’s was the tradition of the Lent Preachers and
theologians of the Thirty Years’ War, of such men as the Swabian Ludwig
Gifftheil, Jacob Boehme’s disciple Friedrich Breckling, Quirinus Kuhlmann
and Christian Hoburg, the first German pietist;160 to Leibnitz these men were
no more than 4Fanatici and Enthusiastes ’. These Protestant mystics looked
upon the newly-formed denominations and sects as 4apostasies ’ which had their
origin in the failure of the 4 general Reformation \ The persecution of 4the
poor, the humble and the injured ’ by the established Church—‘ the three
headed monster *—under the notorious decree of 4 cuius regio eius religio ’, this
the spiritualists and pietists regarded as similar to the Passion of Christ. Breck-
ling (in this a teacher of Arnold) proceeded to work out a spiritualist theory of
history, according to which the post-Reformation 4 apostasy ’ of the sects was
to be understood as a concrete manifestation of the essence of sin, which is
4self-hood or selfness ’ (‘ Selbstheit oder Eigenheit ’). Every apostasy, Breckling
wrote, is a falling away from God to self-hood; this is true of the Reformation
no less than of the Papacy, and of every movement that would claim an ex
clusive knowledge of the true Christ. In this way an attempt was made to apply
the Christian doctrine of sin (inherent-in the idea of apostasy) to history, and
to use it as a dividing line between different historical eras ; the historical account,
however, soon turned into a grave indictment of the Reformist failures of the
previous century. With Breckling’s friend and opponent Quirinus Kuhlmann
these accusations became finally sheer fanaticism. So strong and urgent was his
awareness of the imminent end of this 4perverted world ’ that he actually in
cited the 4murderers of C hrist9 to hasten with their work in order the sooner
to bring about the 4World without end \ In the end Kuhlmann believed him
self to be the messianic figure of the Last Age, called upon to found the 4fifth
monarchy of Jesus ’, i.e. the perfect Church of Christ. Such were the ideas
he preached on his journeys to Istanbul and to Moscow, where in 1687 he died
at the stake. Kuhlmann’s is an essentially poetic message; the force of his
language, his imagery and vocabulary mark the most distinctive achievement
of German baroque poetry.
This radical spiritualism and individualism was founded upon a doctrine
of the inwardness of Christian faith, a doctrine the roots of which are to be seen
in Luther’s own Christology. The pupils of Valentin Weigel and of Jacob
Boehme—among them Pierre Poiret—spoke of the 4Christus mysticus within us 5;
in 1679 Philipp Hoburg published his father’s book Der unbekannte Christus
(4The Unknown Christ ’), which was soon to become one of the most important
devotional works of German pietism. But the beliefs of the earlier pietists,
their idea of an imminent day of judgment, of sudden violent revolutions in the
human order, all these had now changed. And the spiritualism Hoburg and
his disciples preached had a direct moral significance; the Christian should
conduct his life (they taught) as though Christ Himself were constantly present.
The 4 Christus Mysticus ’ of pietism had nothing in common with the just rather
than merciful Judge on high whom Kuhlmann and Breckling had described.
And among the many peculiar changes which the Christian, idea of God has
undergone in peoples’ m inds,4 our dear Saviour ’ {der Hebe Heyland ) of pietism
is, surely, one of the most petit bourgeois. The echoes of the religious revolu
tions of the Thirty Years’ War gradually died away, and by the ’eighties of the
century a quieter mood had descended upon the religious controversy. Old
positions were now abandoned and the religious fervour of the old struggle of
conscience against authority was replaced by a reassuring 4religion of the heart ’
on one hand, and an im m anent4 natural religion ’ of the esprits éclairés et bien
intentionnés on the other.
Everywhere in Europe an exchange of views between pietism and rationalism
began to take place; the result of this rapprochement was a stabilization of
baroque religiousness. In England, Quakers, Independents and Puritans alike,
having been cast out from the Christian community by orthodox clerics, de
manded a Christianity of active love; the devotional literature written in these
circles profoundly influenced the young Spener. In Holland too a strong move
ment away from rigid orthodoxy and towards the ‘praxispietatis ' was on foot;
one of its leaders was Jean de Labadie,161 whose book La réformation de VEglise
largely inspired both Jacob Spener’s Pia Desideria (1675) and August Hermann
Francke’s Definitio Studii Theologici (1708).
The ‘ religion of inwardness ’ was further strengthened by the influence of
French and Spanish Quietism. Among its most distinguished representatives
were Miguel de Molinos (1640-1697), who in 1687 was condemned by the
Pope to life imprisonment; François Fénelon, Archbishop of Cambrai (1651—
1715), whose Explication des maximes des Saints sur la vie intérieure (1697) was
banned by the Church; and Madame de la Mothe de Guyon who, because of
her writings, suffered imprisonment in the Bastille. In Germany this Catholic
movement was widely acclaimed as an ally of pietism. The Alsatian Pierre
Poiret (1646-1719), whose Cogitationes Rationales de Deo, Anima et Malo, 1677,
Leibnitz frequently attacks, translated Mme de Guyon’s main works into Ger
man, and Jacob Boehme’s into French; A. H. Francke translated Molinos’s
Guida Spirituale into Latin,162 and Gottfried Arnold into German (1699). In
this connection it is necessary to mention the writings of Antoinette de Bourignon
of Lille (1616-1680). After 1667 she had a large circle of followers in Belgium
and Holland, and between 1679 and 1684 Pierre Poiret published nineteen
volumes of her collected works. Leibnitz conducted a long correspondence
with an enthusiastic follower of hers at the court of Ernest August, in the course
of which he writes :
J’estime beaucoup tous ceux qui font des efforts pour rompre les liens mondains et
qui se mettent au dessus des considérations du siècle: je reconnois en eux une grande
force d’esprit et je leur souhaite de la prudence à proportion, j ’entends cette prudence
que Jésus Christ même nous recommande qui a pour but la gloire de Dieu et la perfection
des âmes. . . ,163
It is just this ‘ prudence à proportion ’ (derived from the Calvinist concept of

‘ worthiness ’) which distinguished pietist religiousness from the rationalist
theism of Enlightenment. Yet both were at one in the conviction that the old
orthodoxy and its institutions had failed. Leibnitz hoped to solve the crisis of
the Christian tradition by subordinating pietist to rational religiousness : ‘ Je
Vai déjà dit, il faut joindre la lumière à l'ardeur, il faut que les perfections de
l'entendement donnent l'accomplissement à celles de la volonté.' ‘ Praxis pietatis '
is not enough, for ‘ les practiques de la vertu aussi bien que celles du vice, peuvent
estre I'effect d'un simple habitude; on y peut prendre g o û t. . . ’; and as a natural
philosopher he was certain that ‘ on ne sauroit aimer Dieu, sans en connoistre
les perfections, et cette connaissance renferme les principes de la véritable piété.'16*
Like Spener and Francke, Leibnitz was disturbed because ‘ contre l'intention
de nostre Divin Maistre, la dévotion a esté ramenée aux cérémonies, et la Doc
trine a été chargée de formules Towards the end of the century people
everywhere demanded of faith that it should produce concrete psychological
effects. The speculative sciences—Guericke’s physics and Locke’s philosophy—
now entered on an experimental stage; in education, men like Comenius,
Weigel, Thomasius and Francke were turning away from the Latin tradition
and beginning to teach in the vernacular, and the same tendency was to be seen
in the realm of religion, where the personal experience of faith was emphasized
to the exclusion of the traditional dogma. Roberval’s remark to Pascal on the
contemporary state of physics (quoted on p. 57) is equally applicable to religious
matters. Thus Christian orthodoxy too ‘ est fort chymerique*. The 6praxis
pietatis ’, on the other hand, 4est toute véritable, mais . . . fort cachée. . . Quoy
qu'elle soit aussi ancienne que le monde, . . elle est toujours nouvelle dans ses
productions ’.
No sooner had Philipp Jacob Spener (1635-1705) outlined the pietist reli
gious attitude165 than August Hermann Francke (1663-1727) arrived on the
scene, to work Spener’s ideas into an 6orthodox 5 system. This system, which he
called after the 4 School of Halle ’ (where Francke was Professor of Theology
after 1692), was by its very nature a denial of the spiritualist origins of the
movement, and brought pietism in line with the rest of academic theology.166
There thus arose in the new Protestant sects the same dichotomy between aca
demic theory and common practice as outside them; and here too Leibnitz’s
personality made a last attempt at a synthesis. In his scientific, philosophical
and religious writings, on the other hand, the gulf could no longer be spanned.
After Leibnitz’s death, the dual nature of his philosophy became abundantly
clear; for the rationalistic Christian Wolff was as legitimate an heir to his
philosophy as were the countless theosophical and mystical circles which based
themselves upon the Monadology and repeated and interpreted his religious
ideas throughout the eighteenth century.167
Francke’s autobiography (.Anfang und Fortgang der Bekehrung A. H. Franches
von ihm selbst geschrieben, 1692) is an account of the contemporary spiritual
situation, presented from the standpoint of a homo religiosus vacillating between
rationalism and pietism; and as such this account also depicts the spiritual
situation of Leibnitz, who helped Francke in his religious work at Halle and
suggested him for election to the new Berlin Academy.168 There is little in
common between Francke’s and Luther’s experience of the religious conflict.
The young Luther’s dolores e deliciis had been the signs of an inner strife for
a new conception of God. Francke’s conception of God, on the other hand,
remained stable; he believed (and so, ultimately, did Leibnitz) that God’s
love grants forgiveness of all sins for Christ’s sake. But Francke had lost
the immediate and personal experience of this love. (Leibnitz on the other
hand believes that with the aid of ‘ the light ’ of science he does possess this
experience.) With profound terror Francke became aware that the Reformist
experience had shrunk in him to a lifeless formula; and his anxious insistence
upon 4the act and the reality of faith ’ (‘ Glaubensthat und Würckligkeit ’)
was inspired by an experience of religious historicism. For Francke, it is patent,
the religious dilemma became identical with an intellectual dilemma unknown
to Luther. When, in his spiritual anguish, Francke turned to the Bible, it occurred
to him 4to wonder whether the Scriptures are truly the Word of God. Do not
the Turks make this claim on behalf of their Koran, and the Jews on behalf
o f the Talmud? And who shall say who is right?’ This 4enlightened ’ scepticism
soon issued in a fundamental atheism; the moment came when 41 ceased to
believe that there was a God in Heaven ’. This combination of rationalist doubt
and religious despair is characteristic of 4enlightened ’ pietism; for it indicates
the finality of the effects of the Cartesian revolution. It was not the idea of
divine Grace that was now at stake—as it once had been for Luther—but the
assurance of man’s knowledge of God, the validity of the Bible and of the
Christian tradition. This was the background to Leibnitz’s 4proofs of God’s
existence ’; and only his firm conviction that his own 4proofs ’ were superior
to those of any 4enthusiast ’ preserved him from religious doubt.169
In the pietist mind doubt was extinguished by a great emotional experience ;
the rationalist, on the other hand, substituted for the Christian faith a 4 visio
intellectualis ’. And this vision was no longer mystical (John Toland’s motto
4 Christianity not mysterious ’ became now the fashion), but essentially scien
tific.170
4
Pietism and rationalism, it may be said, both spring from a mood of reflective
inwardness and lead to the same kind of religious self-assertion. At the turn of
the century, this rational-emotional self-consciousness blossomed forth into
4 Philadelphian visions’; men like Helmont, Johann Conrad Dippel, Johann
Christian Edelmann and countless others were carried away by magnificent
projects (conceived mainly in England) of a Universal Church and brotherhood
of all men. Thus Jane Leade, England’s Mme Guyon, wished to found a
second—universal—Philadelphia, in which her own 4New Gospel ’, a mixture
of Lutheranism, Calvinism, Catholicism and Greek Orthodoxy, was to be
preached and practised. Less fantastic were the two attempts at a reunion
conducted in 1703 from Berlin and in 1708 from Königsberg. They were public
events of great importance, accompanied by a flood of academic and political
pamphlets and disputations. Leibnitz’s own 4négociations iréniques ’ are thus
seen to reflect a general mood of the age no less than his own pacific intentions.
His negotiations with the spiritual powers of Europe were based on the same
idea of political and religious tolerance as William of Orange’s negotiations for
the balance of political power. Interlocutors and correspondents from all over
Europe joined in Leibnitz’s negotiations between the ‘ Confessions’: from
Paris, Bossuet, Pellisson, Louise Hollandine and Mme de Brinon; from Vienna,
the Bishop of Wiener Neustadt Rojas de Spinola and the Emperor Leopold I;
from Berlin, Sophia Charlotte and Anton Ulrich von Wolfenbüttel; and from
Rome, Pope Clemens XI; while the Lutheran view was presented by the theo
logians at the University of Helmstedt under Gerhard Walter Molanus, who in
1677 became director of the consistory at Hanover. Leibnitz’s plan was to
bring together all the esprits éclairés et bien intentionnés in a single religious
alliance, an alliance which was to be maintained by means of diplomatic com
binations and theological concessions. The important thing, it appeared to him,
was to replace the separate centres of power and individual denominations by
an impersonal system of general relations. And while such a system was to be
kept alive by men with individual allegiances, in itself it was to be entirely
abstract, a mere two-dimensional pattern in which confessional differences
were reduced to intersecting lines. Leibnitz’s Systema Theologicum, written
anonymously for the Hanoverian Convention of 1683, contains the outline of
such a system—a Characteristica Universalis applied to the politics of religious
institutions. Leibnitz (together with Molanus) drew up the agenda171 of the
Convention; but Bossuet, who since the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes
assumed a much less conciliatory position, now rejected Leibnitz’s Systema out
of hand. Nevertheless, Leibnitz did not give up all hope; in August 1698 he
writes a new Projet pour faciliter la Réunion des Protestants avec les Catholiques
romains.
What Leibnitz aimed at was 4 une Eglise à la fois romaine et réformée ’172, a
system in which the individual Churches and Confessions were to retain their
identity as symbols or ‘ caractères ’, while each in its own way represented “ the
whole ’, the manifoldness of Christianity. This 4harmonia universalis ’ is thus a
translation of the old concept of Christendom into the age and language of
Enlightenment. This ‘ universal Church based upon a 4Natural Religion \
was to be the product of a philosophical and theological syncretism. In the event,
the outcome of this syncretism was not a Church but the Academy. The Aca
demy was the true and visible 4universal Church ’ of contemporary Christian
thought, and the Monadology the classical formulation of its doctrine. The
work of unifying the Churches, which had foundered upon the concrete reality
of the age, was to be continued in this notional construction.173
The highest aim of this 4enlightened Christianity * is a rationalist account of
man; its priest—the enlightened philosophe; its flock—the esprits éclairés et
bien intentionnés; its idea of divinity—the concept of force; its idea of infinity—
the physical law of the conservation of energy ; and its picture of reality (which
until the end of the seventeenth century had retained, in both Protestantism and
Catholicism, the traits of the classical ontology) is an increasingly rationalist
and immanent concept of self-consciousness. In order to safeguard th e 4essence 5
of Christianity, Catholicism and Protestantism now entered on the path of that
compromise which Leibnitz was the first to trace. That the path led to no other
goal was due to a fundamental confusion of the limits of knowledge and faith,
of State and Church. And although, as a thinker vitally committed to his
reflection, Leibnitz went far in his efforts to clear up this confusion, yet as a
speculative philosophe, politician and servant of many masters he failed to fol
low up these attempts. 4Reductio in unitatem ’ is the formula of Leibnitz’s will
to peace. And to translate this formula from the 4true system 5 into concrete
reality cannot be done without the exercise of absolute power. Yet this pre
cisely he wished to avoid; the new order was to be instituted by the use of
reasonable power, by means of a natural alliance between reason and the will.
This was the hope that kept alive the conversation between individual denomin
ations.
The real peace and the true are related to each other as knowledge is to faith ;
any assertion that would identify the one with the other is a potential threat to
the maintenance of peace. This is the message which the Reformation claimed to
have rediscovered in the Gospels. (Thus Luther, in his early writings, had insisted
upon the distinction between faith and theology.) Yet to Leibnitz’s age this
message was once again lost. A new 4system a 4 tranquillitas ordinis ’, was to
bring about the true peace; inevitably, the result was once again a concept of
universality in which manifold and contradictory reality was reduced to a single
4truth ’, a 4 truth ’ identified with whatever kind of consciousness (the cogito y
or Leibnitz’s 4 individual substance ’) happened to assert itself as real. Thus the
true peace is identified with an individually (and therefore contingently) deter
mined order; it is philosophical self-assertion which gives reality to this ktrue
peace’; and this assertion endangers the real peace, or makes it altogether
unattainable. Bossuet, Spinola or the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse, no less than
Leibnitz and Molanus, were all men whose absolute will to peace endangered
the real peace of the state. And at this point, in this ever-present and ever-varied
controversy about the peace of Europe, lies the crisis of Leibnitz’s age.
B
LEIBNITZ’S CHOSEN TASK

CHAPTER I
THE STARTING-POINT
In so far as the topics of the seventeenth-century controversy no longer
directly concern us, the attempt to grasp and present it spends itself in an ab
stract circular dialectic of actual and ideal events seen from an historical point
of view. There are, however, two ways of bringing home the controversy to us
in concrete and directly relevant terms :
1. by focusing our attention on what is contained in our own experience,
namely the permanent threat to the common peace arising from the strife of
conflicting acts of self-assertion; and
2. by relating the seventeenth-century situation to the man who experienced
what to us is historical and therefore disposed of; that is, by considering it as
a concrete and grave threat to his very existence and integrity.
In both instances we are thus concerned with a conflict which, neither in
the present nor in the past controversy, can be simply disposed of as irrelevant
or outmoded. In the first instance we are relating the conflict to the present
state of the controversy, to the predicament, that is, in which our own historical
dialectic has landed us ; the predicament itself, however, we shall find reflected
in many historical situations. Secondly, we are turning to an historical exemplar
of this predicament, and relating the historical (and thus disposed of) situation
to him who must needs meet it in his own person. How will he, exposed to its
full attack, meet the predicament? What kind of synthesis will he construct to
overcome the crisis? Will this synthesis succeed? The answers to these questions
are likely to tell us something of a man’s commitment as a philosopher.
But first, what is this philosophical commitment {Verantwortung und verant
wortliches Denken) of which we speak here? It is a man’s concern for contro
versial questions whose import lies in the future, and it is his willingness to give
to these questions a critical, circumspect and responsible answer. Neither in
the past nor in the present are these questions of merely academic interest,
such as might arise in the course of conducting a methodological dialectic of
specific sciences or doctrines. On the contrary, they are the expression of a
serious care for the present urgencies and prospective dangers which press upon
the human community. Philosophical commitment does not avoid any of these
questions, be their manifestation ever so trivial. Philosophical commitment pre
supposes an experience of conflict that cannot be disposed of by avoiding it.
And it seeks to avail itself of this experience of conflict as the starting-point of all
critical philosophical reflection. To design or advocate any one particular social,
philosophical, political or religious order can never be its aim; on the contrary,
philosophical commitment safeguards the freedom of the human conversation
by a resolute refusal to construct any one particular order. Accordingly such
reflection as we have here described is committed in two ways: first, to the
questions themselves as they arise from the actual and concrete situation; and
secondly, to a man’s conscience. In both instances the commitment is experienced
as a limitation, an impingement, which no reflection can anticipate and no
4 system ’ can suspend.
81
Thus in speaking of Leibnitz’s reflective commitment we wish to indicate "
that his interest in the controversy of his age is not merely 6scientific ’ and aca
demic; the temper of erratic self-assertiveness which informs the controversy
is in fact an innermost personal experience of his own. And in so far as Leibnitz
engaged in constructive reflection:—in the building of a self-assertive 4true ’
system with its inherent claim to absolute and exclusive validity—the question
arises to what extent such an activity is compatible with his temper of reflective
commitment.
His decision to claim absolute validity for autonomous reflection we assume
to be fundamental to Leibnitz’s work and characteristic of the man. It there
fore remains to be shown that this decision presupposes, or is accompanied by,
the experience of an insoluble conflict; that the decision has no meaning and
validity apart from this experience; and that this validity in its turn remains
highly problematic. For Leibnitz the fundamental decision is far from being a
matter of course. Throughout his life it is constantly contested; it remains an
expression of his philosophical self-assertion amid the strife and temptations of
the contemporary controversy. The validity of his experience of this strife is
European, not merely personal. The Europe he is aware of, however, is not a
theoretical unit or an ideal community, but a continent both inspired by a com
mon tradition and threatened by a common controversy. Only a small group of
contemporary intellectuals—Leibnitz among them—understood the seriousness
of the total situation. He understood it because his abundant and compre
hensive European culture and education fitted him exceptionally for the task of
attending to and taking part in the entire European controversy; we must
therefore first devote some attention to his education and culture. The universal
and the individual are specific aspects of the question, How is true culture
possible? Leibnitz never ceased in his attempts at a synthesis of these two
aspects, because he saw in such a synthesis the main task of the future.
The constant interrelation between the responsible reflection of commit
ment and mere (as it were irresponsible) speculation is characteristic of Leibnitz,
and so is his ultimate failure to distinguish clearly between the two. Thus he is
deeply concerned about the current exaggerated claims made on behalf of the
rational order—and yet has at the same time an unbounded confidence in
the rational 4part ’ of the world, in the autonomy of Cartesian self-conscious
ness, the validity of which (as he says) no reasonable being can doubt. An 4inner
light ’ illuminates for him the present darkness and the sinister future. It is
this 4light ’ which vouchsafes him what is in fact no more than a precarious
harmony of the whole. The security of tradition is no more; man is no longer
ensconced in the mythical and magical orders of the past; the concept of divine
justice, the Christian doctrine, the scholastic image of reality, Aristotelean
culture—in fact the whole traditional ontology lies in ruins. Yet justice is to
be reconstituted in accordance with the ‘ nature’ of man; nature is to be
re-created in mechanistic terms within a causally determined conception of
reality; this mechanistic reality in its turn is to be centred in a mathematical
concept of God ; and this concept—at once 4lumen innatum ’ and 4 imago Dei ’
—is to illuminate the educated and cultured consciousness of man. Man is
once again seen as the centre and measure of all things; self-determining, he
faces confidently the many urgent questions of the age.
To start with, there is the problem of the state. Its hierarchical order was
disrupted; individual men—intellectual, spiritual, political and private monads
—were leaving the social contract, the national and international concert; they
T H E S T A R T IN G -P O IN T 83
*privateered ’ and became more and more isolated, each separately pursuing his
enthusiastic or intellectual and witty monologue. Every aspect of the traditional
order: the hereditary principle; the courtly hierarchy; the rights and privileges
of Princes and Estates—all these were challenged by the new freedom with its
claims to absoluteness. And this new freedom was met by the claims of absolute
power, which had usurped the place of divine right. The balance between
freedom and power, nature and Grace, reason and the will, was so deeply dis
turbed that contemporary diplomacy could do little more than attempt ever
new readjustments and weight-shifting. In Germany the lack of balance was
more patent than anywhere else. The absence of all shape and form, so charac
teristic of her political and intellectual life, was concealed behind the baroque
conception of form for its own sake, a conception which pretended to form—in
the splendid contemporary ceremonial—where in fact there was nothing but
chaos. And this applies equally to the formalistic education of the age, which
was hopelessly outmoded, and no aspect of which corresponded to the progres
sive spirit of the age. The very hierarchy of the sciences was reversed, for the
scholastic sophia had become useless and the new realia demanded to be taken
much more seriously than ever before: ‘ Indeed, the Evil of the present age has
so increased that it can be conquered neither with rhymes nor love-poems nor
humorous writings; on the contrary, heavier and deadlier weapons are
needed. . . .’174
Yet even the ideal foundation of the freed self-consciousness, mathematics
itself, began to change: number (until now a quantitative symbol) came to
represent pure function; the whole rigid Euclidian system began to crumble,
and in its stead an infinite and abstract system of functions was established.
The physical world became mere 6appearance ’, a mere phenomenon of the res
cogitans; it was not, indeed, a confused dream, but as yet a strictly regulated
‘phaenomenon bene fundatum '.175 The concept of a pre-established harmony
became an increasingly necessary presupposition of the new metaphysics; and
the belief in this harmony of man and the world had to be shored against attack
by means of an exact demonstration. For only what was proved and demon
strated was acknowledged as real. This is the belief on which Leibnitz based his
own attempts ‘ to lead [his contemporaries] out of the two famous labyrinths ’,
that is out of the labyrinth of freedom, ‘ which disturbs almost the whole of
mankind and out of the labyrinth of infinity, 4which concerns only the philo
sophers \ 176 This, too, is a restatement of man’s own predicament; for man
asserts his freedom within the immanent infinity of his reflective self-conscious
ness.
Here then the Protestant heritage comes once more into focus. Emotional
believers could no longer regard the schism of the Reformation as irreparable;
to them it appeared as an open wound on the Body of Christ, a perpetual in
dictment of Western Christendom. The reunion of the Churches became the
rational and emotional expression of the bad Christian conscience. The intellect
ual ‘ disenchantment ' of such works as Balthasar Bekker’s De betooverte
Werld or John Toland’s Christianity Not Mysterious is paralleled by attempts at
systematic rational formulations—yet the two activities remained unconcerted.
Far from seeing that the decline of the Christian ontology was due to the
rise of the mathematical sciences, Leibnitz aimed at strengthening the one by
the other. His metaphysical doctrine of harmony, he believed, would eventually
replace the old mediaeval order of the world. The monadology to him was the
modern airoKaTao-Tams iravrwv. Yet at the same time he wished for the work
of the Reformation to be completed ; founded upon unenlightened, 6dark ’
presuppositions, this Reformation had foundered; on the basis of exact science,
on the other hand, it was certain to succeed. Thus it came about that Leibnitz
could in all honesty see himself as a defender of the Faith against contemporary
atheism.
Unlike A. H. Francke, Leibnitz never experienced a religious crisis. The
schism and the threat to the Christian Faith were to him ethical, social and cul
tural phenomena. ‘ Christianity ’, to him, meant nothing outside the traditional
form of Christian humanism. Even when, in conversations with converted
friends, he found it necessary to defend his religious freedom, what he was in
fact defending was the freedom of his scientific or scholarly conscience, not of
his faith. Thus .the Lutheran Leibnitz was much nearer to the spirit of Erasmus
than of Luther, the author of Von der Freiheit eines Christenmenschen (‘ On the
Freedom of a Christian ’). The schism disquieted him above a ll6because it has
caused such a rift in studies that whoever, in Germany, is conscious of this
condition cannot also fail to feel the exceedingly great difference it has made in
education \ 177 The religious crisis was for him—as it had been for Erasmus—
essentially a crisis in education and culture.
CHAPTER II
THE CULTURAL CRISIS AND ITS SOLUTION

1
Leibnitz’s legal and philosophical education made it possible for him to
participate intelligently and critically in the contemporary educational contro
versy. The legal and philosophical discussions of the age are aspects of its educa
tion and culture; and these discussions took place within a scholastic order
which he well knew to be no longer securely established. From his earliest
school-days on he was plunged into the great conflict. As a pupil at the Nicolai-
schule and at the University of Leipzig he was introduced to the culture of post-
Reformation scholasticism; this comparatively narrow horizon was widened
when he met Erhard Weigel at Jena University. Even at that early period we
see him essaying to establish his position between the two great movements of
the age, between scholastic Aristoteleanism and Cartesian philosophy. And the
conflict is reflected even in the education he received at his school in Leipzig.
The humanist spirit, which had flourished in the German schools for a time
after the Reformation, was already declining. Now an orthodox religious zeal
permeated the Northern German Protestant schools. And this is true not only
of the Nicolaischule at Leipzig, which he entered shortly before his seventh
birthday, but also of the University, where he matriculated as a student of
jurisprudence at Easter 1661. W. Kabitz has given us a detailed description of
the education Leibnitz received at his school.178 Apart from divinity—by far
the most important subject—the main emphasis was on Latin; arithmetic was
taught irregularly, geometry not at all; music too was taught, and there was a
church choir. Religious education followed the orthodox Lutheran doctrine
and tradition; Luther’s Small Catechism, the Proverbs and the Psalms were
explained and learned by heart. These books were replaced in the upper form
by Leonhard Hutter’s Compendium Locorum Theologicorum, an account, in
thirty-four articles, of the Lutheran doctrine, taken almost verbatim from the
Augsburg Confession and from the Formula of Concord; but, contrary to
Luther’s express intention, much less importance was attached to Bible-reading
than to doctrinal arguments. Rhetoric and logic were taught mainly from the
textbooks of Johannes Rhenius.1?9 These were written in the form of questions
and answers, reminiscent of Melanchthon’s manuals. Rhenius’s Compendium
Rhethoricae discusses in three sections, and with constant references to Cicero
and Aristotle respectively, how to find the necessary proofs for a given subject,
and how to arrange and express them. The Compendium Logicae treats first
of simple concepts, of definition and classification; secondly of the syllogism;
and thirdly of the proof or conclusion; again Aristotle (apart from Porphyry,
Cicero and Quintilian) is the main authority.
The method of teaching was mechanical, impersonal and abstract. The
teacher’s sole concern was with the book:180 he read aloud from it; explained
what he had read out; asked his pupils to repeat both the reading and the
explanation, to learn both by heart, and repeat them once again in an examin
ation. To grasp and to retain—the understanding and memory—were the sum
85
total of education. And the extraordinary importance ascribed to the faculty
of memory was characteristic of contemporary academic orthodoxy, which
lived entirely upon what was recollected of the past. -Within this rigid educational
system experience itself was reduced to memory; thus Hobbes writes, 4 Much
memory, or memory of many things, is called experience \ 181 Education was
founded entirely upon the hollow ground of memory-work; to forget is (as
Leibnitz remarked, not without scorn, of the libertins) to be uneducated, uncult
ured. Polymathy is the educational ideal of the age; 4the Polyhistor says the
playwright Lohenstein, 4is a sketch of the whole world \ Leibnitz was soon to
recognize the danger inherent in such an attitude.
The University was hardly different, for here too men were intent upon no
more than the handing-down of traditional knowledge. In Leipzig especially
the spirit of the University was narrow, severely conservative, jealous of any
administrative or doctrinal changes. The whole work of its four faculties through
out the seventeenth century consisted of nothing but an elaboration of what was
traditionally accepted, and a defence of it against everything that was not so
accepted. The lawyers confined themselves to the study of Roman legal sources;
the theologians spent their time defending the Lutheranism182 of the Formula of
Concord against Calvinist and syncretist183 attacks ; the philosophers produced
commentaries on Aristotle; and the philologists studied a few Roman and
Greek poets and historians. In the philosophical faculty, where Leibnitz took
a three-years’ preparatory course (Propaedeuticum), the following lectures were
delivered in his time: on the scientific writings of Aristotle; on the Aristotelean
organon; on the work of Euclid; on Latin poetry; on Rhetoric (by Jacob
Thomasius); on the Nicomachean Ethic ; on Greek literature; and on the
metaphysics of Aristotle.
It must be noted, however, that even as a boy Leibnitz challenged this ortho
dox doctrine; and this he did by teaching himself, and entirely of his own
accord. Thus at the age of fourteen he asked his teachers whether it is not
possible to postulate classes or 4predicaments ’ of judgments no less than of
concepts. For would not this (he argued) enable us to classify judgments (which
are merely composite concepts) and thus make them available for the syllo
gism? It is said by one source that the embarrassed teacher admitted to being
unable to answer the question, by another that he indignantly reproved the
boy.184 The same way of thinking that led him from the Aristotelean categories
to the idea of a logical calculus, caused him to doubt the doctrine of free will as
he was taught it, and it may well be that his early reflections—not unconnected
with the argument of the Theodicy—were somewhat influenced by the study of
Hutter’s Compendium.185
There is a surprising independence about the young student’s attitude
towards all authoritative doctrine. Thus among his earliest recorded thoughts
we find a critique of the rigid system of categories. His attitude, so profoundly
different from the 4schools ’, is not one he had come by easily; on the contrary,
it was the outcome of a thoroughgoing dispute with the dogmatic tradition.
All the questions which had not been discussed either at his school or at the
university he attempted to work out—4without direction ’, as he says—on his
own, solely with the help of his father’s library.186 The boy’s world was a world
of books. Later on it was to be also a world of letters; yet his enormous Euro
pean correspondence too was ultimately dependent upon the world of books.
As the librarian of Boineburg in Mainz and of the Dukes of Hanover and Wolfen
büttel he remained professionally interested in this world, and among his last
T H E C U L T U R A L C R IS IS A N D ITS SO L U T IO N 87
writings there is a paper on a new kind of catalogue for the library of the Gover
nor of Erfurt,187 and dedicated ‘ to the memory of the Great Boineburg’. The
young Leibnitz was therefore interested not only in the Cartesian freedom of
thought, but equally in the freedom to read whatever might further his education.
Yet this latter freedom was in direct opposition to the ideas of the Schools.
Political and ecclesiastic censorship was severe and generally approved of—in
Mainz Leibnitz himself designed and advocated a new and more rigorous
system.188 Yet his eagerness to discover for himself more and more of European
thought—and thus to see the traditional dogma within its widest context—this
urge was constantly with him. The total experience which books gave him was
one of discontinuity of opinions. Thus in 1672 he writes to the Duke John
Frederick of Hanover :
Mainly because my parents died so early and I was thus left, almost without any
direction, to my studies, I have had the good fortune to come upon books of many lan
guages, religions and sciences, yet in no proper order; and these I read, being at first
impelled by the instinct of d e le c ta tio . Yet thereby I imperceptibly drew this profit: that
I was freed from vulgar prejudices; that I happened upon many things I would otherwise
never have considered; and that I was obliged to learn p h ilo so p h ia m and iu ra almost
p ro p r ia sp ecu la tio n e. And thus I became in my seventeenth year m a g is te r p h ilo so p h ia e
and in my twenty-first D . iu ris. . . ,189
This complacent autobiographical reflection is re-formulated eight years later

somewhat differently:
From two things (which to others appear often dubious and outright harmful) I have
derived untold profit: first, I was almost an a u to d id a c t; and secondly, I sought out what
was new in every science as soon as I entered it and often even before I had attained to a
knowledge of its very elements. Yet thus my profit has been twofold: first, I did not fill
my mind with empty things (which in any case I would have to forget again), the know
ledge of which is generally accepted not on its own grounds, but on the authority of a
teacher; and further, I was not contented until I had discovered the fibres and roots of
every science and until I had reached its very principles, whence everything else could be
easily worked out.190
Leibnitz became soon aware of this 1 often dubious and outright harmful ’
preoccupation with problems outside the reach of all tradition. He found it
among the Cartesians, who, in their eagerness to reject truth sanctioned by
tradition, began to reject books as such because they saw in them symbols of
the Schools. Later Leibnitz came to despise what he called the 4superficial
thinking of these libertins and Cartésiens \ because by then he had found out
what a baneful influence they were exerting upon European education. The
6 superficial ’ no less than the ‘ empty ’ kind of thinking (he writes) is based upon
‘ vulgar prejudices ’ and issues in chaos or dogmatic rigidity. His ardent en
deavour was to be rid of all such influences. And here he was at one with Des
cartes, who in the Discours had well described the effects of his axiomatic
decision to free his thinking from all ‘ praeiudiciis \ At that early time, however,
Leibnitz had not yet read the Discours\ his own critical reflection was not
directed by methodical doubt, but by his own intellect which demanded that
order should be established where now there was nothing but chaos.191 His
aim was to go below the surface of those ‘ empty things which in any case I
would have to forget again ’, to probe deeply, until a layer was reached where
dead formalism became inspired by a pre-established meaning. And this
attempt was as it were his silent protest against the spirit of his Leipzig school.
There is no point, he exclaimed, in memorizing and repeating formal Aristo-
teleanism, or in turning his doctrine into mnemonic barbaras, for what matters
is a new enquiry and a new beginning. The radically new formulation of the
cultural and educational heritage in terms of an autonomous self-consciousness,
and the revision of all the 4vulgar prejudices ’ upon which contemporary culture
rests—these were Leibnitz’s aims from his schooldays on; and remembering
that this 4reform ’ which he was planning concerned no less than 4the whole ’
of the contemporary world, we shall understand why he was so distrustful of
the many (to him) 4superficial ’ innovators of his age.192
Leibnitz’s protest against the scholastic tradition of Aristotle, St. Thomas
and Melanchthon is the result not only of a critical analysis of its foundations,
but also of his own autodidactic way of acquiring philosophical ideas. 4 Without
proper order ’ and outside his schoolwork he first came across Platonic and
Pythagorean ideas (in the confused form in which they are presented in Erhard
Weigel’s doctrine), and the works of his own anti-Aristotelean contemporaries.
The extraordinary and almost unbelievable breadth of his reading may be
discerned in those parts of his early writings where, following the baroque
manner of displaying erudition for its own sake, whole paragraphs often de
generate into a mere enumeration of foreign authors and their works.193 Yet
in this passion for reading a genuine consciousness of his freedom is manifested ;
and here, too, he embraced that mode of philosophical commitment which aims
at a total, non-polemical view of the world. As a student he first adopted a
standpoint beyond the controversy of the schools, from which he hoped to
view impartially both the Aristotelean and nominalist scholastic doctrines of
his favourite teachers Jacob Thomasius and Adam Scherzer, and the Platonic
and pietist scholasticism of Erhard Weigel and John Amos Comenius (with
whose doctrine he became acquainted in the summer of 1663 at the University
of Jena). Weigel’s realistic metaphysics gave Leibnitz a first insight into the
practical meaning of the new geometry and arithmetic ; in brief, at Jena he first
came into contact with the 4modern world \ At a public disputation he heard
for the first time the names of Hobbes and Gassendi ; immediately he wrote to
ask his teacher Thomasius what these men had written.194 And at this point he
leaves the influence of orthodoxy behind and enters the contemporary contro
versy; yet even this controversy retains many affinities with the life of the
school and university as he knows it.
2
In an age which was above all things interested in education,195 Erhard
Weigel was a typical revolutionary figure. After the Peace of Westphalia, Princes
and town-councils everywhere set out to repair the damage done to the educa
tional system, and to raise the level of teaching. Many old subjects were now
taught in a new way, and many new subjects—realia—were added to the syllabus.
Changes in the world at large brought with them a demand for changes in the
universities—and thus mathematics became once again an important subject.196
Erhard Weigel in Jena opened a private 4school of Youth and Virtue ’ (4Jugend-
und Tugendschule ’) for the express purpose of proving the educational value
of mathematics.197 The calculus he taught was by no means a merely logical
and methodological operation, but an ethical exercise and a moral discipline.
Thus he writes in his pamphlet of 1682, entitled On the Function o f the Mind
Called Arithmetic (4 Von der Wirkung des Gemüths so man das Rechnen heisst ’):
T H E C U L T U R A L C R IS IS A N D ITS S O L U T IO N 89
Arithmetic is nothing but the exercise of virtues. For example: he who works a
division is pious, and if he does not himself know the quotient he as it were lifts up his
eyes and asks the Lord of Truth to lead him to the hidden truth.. . . For the Lord of Truth
has given him some preliminary guidance in the form of certain primary or pre-calculated
fundamental truths, which have been impressed into all men’s hearts and which it is their
duty to search out. If the appearance agrees with the primary truths, then the result is
correct, and a man’s heart beats faster for the joy of his having reached the truth. . . ,198
In this baroque manner Weigel fused the latent spirit of Platonism with the
pietist sentiments of his age.199 This new 4exercise of Virtue called Arithmetic ’
was sharply opposed to the old school-practice, and Weigel was frequently
called before the 4 High Princely Commissioners ’ to defend his method. The
philosophical faculty of Jena University (of which he was a Master) declared
that 4whereas he, in his Analysis Aristotelica Euclidea, has attempted arbi
trarily to reform all the disciplinas philosophicas ; and to teach in a novel fashion,
entirely against Statutes; which has caused much confusion among the young
students and all manner of inconveniences: they [the Faculty] can no longer
suffer him to remain in their Collegio \ 200
Weigel’s influence upon Leibnitz dates from 1663. Weigel—and after him
Leibnitz—considered that the neglect of the four liberal Arts, and especially of
mathematics, was detrimental to the cause not only of German science, but
also of German culture and education generally. To work for the introduction
of Euclid into all schools and universities Weigel considered to be the main
task of his profession. And Leibnitz’s later criticisms of contemporary education
were based upon Weigel’s own plans for an educational reform. In contem
porary education Weigel saw 4the root alike of the welfare and ruin of the
commonwealth ’ ; like Comenius, Ratichius, Francke and Semler, he worked
on a new method 4 of leading the pupil to the goal on a short, easy and merry
path \ This method lays stress not on empty and rigid concepts, but upon live
intuition. Weigel’s lectures on physics and astronomy—attended sometimes by
more than four hundred students—were enlivened by all sorts of home-made
charts, tables and models; being popular and light in form, these lectures are
likely to have been a source of amusement rather than of scholarly information,
and they exploited to the full the current predilection for spectacular experi
ments. Like, at a later date, Christoph Semler, founder of the first Realschule,
Weigel claimed th a t4the very first teaching of a child should be done not from
a book, but from things themselves ’. This educational doctrine of a 4return to
things ’ is analogous to the scientific doctrine of men like Otto von Guericke.
The current demand for teaching in the vernacular was considered no less
revolutionary; for here a vital aspect of post-Reformation scholasticism was
being challenged. The 4return to things ’ was accompanied by a demand for
4men’s own natural language ’—a demand entailing a strengthening of the
national consciousness. For a long time after the Reformation Latin had re
mained the only valid language of learned intercourse, and at the same time the
expression of a uniquely valid cultural ideal;201 and at the end of his life Leib
nitz was once again defending Latin and the cultural ideal it stood for.202 Yet
to his generation—and to him as a young man—it suddenly appeared as an alien
and redundant superimposition, an abundant but empty appearance superim
posed upon a political and ethical reality which was entirely different. Men
with conservative minds (such as the lawyer Hermann Conring) attempted to
keep up this appearance, but Weigel, utterly unconcerned about academic
opinion, lectured in German. The disputations at Jena University made a lasting
impression upon Leibnitz. But more important still was the adverse experience
of his first stay in Paris, where he went at the age of twenty-five. For there he
became acutely conscious of his German origin, and there he worked out his
plans for a vernacular culture and education.203 In Paris, too, he came to see
more clearly the close connection, in this new world, between the essentially
scientific postulate of a 4return to things ’ and the growth in national and
language consciousness. His experience of Paris brought home to him his per
sonal commitment to the cause of a German culture. Already in 1666 he had
demanded the institution of a specifically German jurisprudence; in a memo
randum on the subject he writes to the Elector of Mainz:
Many excellent men have for many years past attempted a translation of the corpus
iuris into German; and the Prince Ernest of Saxe-Gotha, a man famous for his piety no
less than for his wisdom, did much to further these essays. The work, especially in the
D ig e s ts , is difficult, because there the style is concise beyond imitation. Yet when I think
of such historians as Tacitus and Sallust, who are distinguished by the brevity and precision
of their sentences, and who can be translated into German quite adequately, it seems to
me that the labour will be long rather than hard. Most of the Latin legal terms will be
found rendered in good German in the old Swabian and Saxon codes of law, in the
R e c e sse s of the Imperial Diet, and in the modern official language [K anzleystil].20*
The task and the difficulties which faced the new generation are here out
lined. To grasp the real nature of this task it must be remembered that the writ
ing of every sentence in the vernacular involved a creative act. Yet the young
Leibnitz insisted not only upon a translation of the code of law; as a doctor of
law he demanded—in the spirit of Weigel—that all legal disputations at the
university should be conducted in German.205 Leibnitz’s interest in a general
linguistic reform dates from 1670, when, in his Latin introduction (De optima
Philosophi dictione) to a new edition, 4ad usum Delphini ’, of Marius Nizolius’s
Antibarbarus, he made the claim that of all European languages German is the
most suitable for philosophy, and that a 4close examination of first principles ’
can only be conducted in the vernacular, because it is 4abundantly rich in
expressions for the real Compared with the 4artes reales et inter eas mecha
nicae he continued, all scholastic philosophical speculations are merely fanciful
and extravagant. 4Whatever cannot be analysed in the language of the people *,
he wrote, 4without being at the same time established by immediate sensory
intuition, is useless and futile, and must be kept out of philosophy as with
exorcisms [piaculari quodam carmine].’206
This is an issue which had already occupied Erhard Weigel, although he
had not formulated it as clearly as his more critical pupil. With Leibnitz (and
in this he is once more representative of his age) the whole question of language
expresses a personal conflict. Thus in the spring of 1671 he wrote in a letter to
the Duke of Hanover207 that he would have preferred to publish his 4meditation
on the free will of man, and on Providence . . .’ in German, but that then the
work would not have been read by foreigners. This conflict between national
and international allegiances Leibnitz attempted to solve by means of a supra
national, conceptual language, a Characteristica Universalis accessible to all the
nations of the world.
It may here be added that the first drafts for an Academy were written in
German, for he considered them as writings with immediate political impli
cations. These memoranda were addressed to a group of men who had out
grown the doctrines of the School and who regarded the foundation of a 4 Ger
man-minded Society ’ (Deutschgesinnte Gesellschaft)208 above all as an important
practical and political act. The 4 Fruitbearing Society ’ {Fruchtbringende Gesell
schaft), founded in 1617, had been concerned entirely with the preservation and
care of the German language; from 1670 on this activity became part of a larger
concerted programme. It was so large and so urgent a project that its original
aims had, with time, been somewhat obscured: ‘ I h o p e’, Leibnitz writes
apologetically, 4that no member of the Fruitbearing Society [Kein Teutscher
Fruchtbringender] will reproach me for having used German, Latin and other
barbaric or precious words without discrimination, as they cropped up in my
mind, iureprimogeniturae, satisfied as I was with making my meaning clear___’209
3
In the West the new educational ideas brought about a number of gradual
political changes. Leibnitz soon became aware of this, and henceforth he aimed
in his work at Mainz at firmly establishing a political ideal for all education.
In this work he was not, indeed, the first; thus Joachim Becher had propagated
a specialized professional and economic education for the middle classes; and
Becher too had thought of education ultimately in terms of political power.
Becher’s aims were: a central and national educational authority; grammar-
schools with a predominantly scientific syllabus for the middle classes; and
boarding-schools for the sons of the aristocracy. Leibnitz’s many designs for
learned societies and academies were drawn up very much on these lines; and
both men were impressed by the success of political education in contemporary
France. Their demand for a practical education was above all political, for it
appeared to them as the first necessary step towards the formation of a bureau
cracy. And further, the triumphs of the new science gave a new value and
meaning to this pursuit of 4practical ’ subjects ; thus Becher demanded the
foundation of 4a School in which natural philosophy, technical pursuits and
practical activities are all represented on an equal footing Leibnitz entered
this political-educational movement while he was still under Weigel’s influence,
and from Weigel he took over the idea of 4establishing in Germany, under the
auspices of the State, a Society of all those devoted to the Arts ’. Like Leibnitz
himself, Weigel entered into correspondence with a number of foreign societies,
and wrote many pamphlets and books in which he demonstrated 4the blessings
of a proper Society of the Sciences ’. When the Academies at Berlin and Vienna
were being founded, some rivalry arose between the two men ; and it can hardly
be doubted that the disagreement which then came to a head was due to the
pupil’s habit'of appropriating (without acknowledgment) many of his teacher’s
ideas.210 Here as elsewhere the question of priority of invention and discovery was
of considerable importance at that time ; for such priority expressed the concrete
achievement and was the only criterion of autonomous self-consciousness in
the realm of the intellect; it was the hallmark of 4immortal fam e’. Leibnitz
himself expresses to perfection the motto of this absolutist age when he says
that all great men must have 4a clear conscience and immortal fame in the eyes
of God and posterity, for those two are infallible judges \ 2U When, in 1697,
he was asked to adjudicate Weigel’s plans for a Collegium Artis Consultorum,
he had already left behind his teacher’s ideas and criticized them as outmoded.212
He objected to the name Weigel had chosen for his institution and claimed
that his educational ideas were too narrow; the subjects Weigel had chosen
for his syllabus Leibnitz called 4artificialia demanding that 4naturali2 ’ too
4
should be taught. Upon his return from Paris he regarded Weigel as 4 an other
worldly speculator’213. For what Leibnitz had now come to accept as the educa
tional ideal was not encyclopaedic polymathy (as advocated by the ‘ baroque 9
Weigel and as displayed in Leibnitz’s early legal works214), but 4practical think
in g ’:
Many a writer before me has remarked on the manner in which in Germany Schools,
Academies, Education, Peregrination, Guilds and the Sciences are all corrupted and
confounded; there have likewise been many who have made proposals to remedy these
evils; but these proposals are partly too theoretical, being taken e x R e p u b lic a P la to n is
e t A tla n tid e B a c o n is ; partly quite incomprehensible, that is Lullian or Metaphysical;
and partly ambiguous and dangerous to the Republic. We wish to have no truck with
all these proposals; and this is surely practical [p ra c tic ie rlic h ], nor can any reasonable
man indict us for it. . . ,215
Leibnitz’s Academy, we see, was to be founded upon reality as presented by

the practical world, not upon Platonic or Baconian Utopias. The exaggerated
value attached by formal memory-training to rigid concepts was seen to collapse
in the face of everyday reality. The experience of this failure determined Leib
nitz’s emphasis on the practical mode of thought: 4For the true hope and the
true faith lie not alone in speaking, nor yet in thinking, but in thinking practice,
that is in acting as if it were true. . . .’216 And he goes on to say that 4everything
depends upon the right proportion of Understanding and Power upon the
right 4 balance of Theory and Practice ’ : 4When Power [sc. the practical atti
tude] is greater than the Understanding [sc. the theoretical attitude], then he
who possesses this Power is either a simple-minded sheep—when he does not
know how to use it—or a wolf and a tyrant—when he does not know how to
use it well. When the Understanding is greater than the Power, then he who
possesses this Understanding must be considered oppressed.’217 The second alter
native, the discrepancy between his theoretical talents and his actual position
in the world—as a servant of Princes—seems to have occupied Leibnitz through
out his life. This question of the 4right proportion ’ between theory and prac
tice leads to the very core of his philosophical commitment. In his view there
was a wide gulf between the theoretical scholastic training of the intellect and
practical knowledge and achievement. Therefore, he claims, 4youth should be
led not only to the study of poetry, logic and scholastic philosophy, but also
to the realia: history, mathematics, geography, true physics, and moral and
civic studies ’21S; and he adds that 4young men should be exercised and taught
languages and the reality of the sciences at home, lest they should encounter
corruption on their travels abroad. . . .’219
The occasion of Leibnitz’s criticism of contemporary education, it appears,
was the growing fashion of the 4grand tour \ He protested against4this fashion
of completing a worthless education ’ at home by 4untimely and premature
journeys ’ abroad, because he considered its cultural, political and economic
consequences disastrous. It is much more important, he writes, 4to keep good
language-masters and tutors, and to establish good boarding-schools for the
aristocracy [Ritterschulen], so that it should be unnecessary for a young man to
spend half his patrimony abroad on things he could well have at home; for
thus his fortune is ruined and the fatherland itself is impoverished as well.’220
And when the Berlin Academy was founded, he actually suggested that a tax on
foreign travel should be collected 6pro re Germanica and for the benefit of the
Society \ He himself had travelled extensively in France, England, the Low
Countries and Italy; what he was attacking was the constant desire of people
T H E C U L T U R A L C R IS IS A N D IT S S O L U T IO N 93
to be à la mode, for from his own experience he knew the dangers and conse
quences of estrangement and deracination. Thus he wrote in his memorandum
on the Polish election of 1668 ‘ that journeys are only valuable if one proceeds
gradually. To see first the neighbouring countries, and then the more distant
ones, is much healthier for body and soul, for otherwise a man will do no more
than stupidly admire everything foreign and accustom himself to foreign splen
dour.’ This maxim is typical of Leibnitz; education to him is a gradual process
of acquiring knowledge and culture, for only thus is it possible to overcome the
tension of antitheses. His demand for an educational reform grows out of his
concrete and five experience of the disastrous political and cultural consequences
of a kind of schooling that has become rigidly orthodox and increasingly irre
levant to contemporary problems. 4The School ’ has not, he says, 4 kept pace
with the times.’ As a pupil who is concerned about its fate he demands that
4everything should be taught with more universality, emphasis and correctness
than is now being done and that 4the theoreticians should be joined to the
empiricists in happy matrimony [theorici Empiricis felici connubio conjugiret] \ 221
This tension between theoretical and practical education is an aspect of the
conflict between the established tradition of state and education and the mathe
matical mode of thought; this mode of thought the Cartesian revolution carried
into political, cultural and religious spheres. All those of his contemporaries
who reflected upon the crisis, shared his experience of tension between the
4real ’ disorder of the world and the 4ideal ’ order of systematic constructions.
We have only to recall Hobbes’s discovery of Euclid.222 Hobbes’s faith in the
traditional secular order was destroyed by his experience of the 4bellum subdi
torum contra superiorem ’ ; in the face of this experience his discovery of the
Euclidean order amounted to a revelation. Uncertainty, anxiety, fear of the
future, and an awareness that (as Leibnitz puts it) 4in practice there are no
principles ’, evoked in Hobbes—as in Descartes, Spinoza and Leibnitz—an
enthusiasm for mathematics. This universal and permanent feeling of anxiety,
of being threatened by sinister powers, is most immediately reflected in the
religious poetry of the age; and it is also the cause of this retreat into a mathe
matical cosmology, a retreat at once magnificent and dangerous. 4. . . At last
he was demonstratively convinced of that truth. This made him in love with
Geometry ’, we read of Hobbes. The real reason, then, for this love of an order
built upon certain indisputable and 4eternal ’ principles, a love shared by many
men besides Hobbes and Leibnitz (e.g. the Amsterdam burgomasters Jan de
Witt and Jan Hudde), was an experience of anxiety and care. We shall have
occasion to discuss the political aspect of this experience in greater detail. Here
it should be noted that the crisis of the age concerned above all the edifice of
mathematics, which, hardly completed, was already threatened with destruction.
During his stay in Paris Leibnitz became for the first time conscious of the
full political implications of his own plans for an educational reform. In Paris
—the centre of contemporary Europe—he realized for the first time what could
be achieved by a 4School ’ for the political and cultural advancement of a coun
try.223 4To miss so many favourable conjunctures ’, he writes, relating the political
scene to education, 4may well seem irresponsible.’ Both the conquest of the
West by the Turks and the state of the European balance of power appeared
to him as imminent dangers; yet this moment too, he felt, offered the best
occasion for a revision of the traditional educational doctrine, and for the
establishment of a universal Society capable of 4mastering this present con
juncture of events ’. Only a thoroughgoing revision and broadening of educa-
tion can stem the tide of power-politics. And his experience of the political
crisis reflects the conflict of theory and practice within his own mind. The idea
of a universal Society, he believed, would provide a connection between the
manifold existence of the external world and the single truth of mathematics;
and yet every activity, every event proved to him that the gulf between the ‘ nova ’
and ‘ vetera ’ could no longer be bridged. 6 More universality he writes,
should prevent specialization of knowledge; and ‘ the Co-operation of all
learned men . . . for the supplying of each other’s deficiencies ’ must needs
lead to that ‘ happy marriage of theory and practice ’ which, as a school-boy,
he had failed to find. Yet this ‘ happy marriage ’, which issues in the cultured
individual, requires a European academic organization within which all Euro
pean savants can co-operate. The Society appears to him as a ‘ une harmonie
pré-établie ’ of theory and practice. In time, Guericke’s empirical world is to
be linked with Aristotle’s speculative world. 4 For those ’, he claims, ‘ are to
be held as of equal worth and possessed of the Grace of God, who with good
intent discover an experience or a securely founded harmony [wohlbegründete
Harmonie; sc. the laws of mathematics], and ipsis factis rehearse and poeticize
it for the greater glory of God. Thence it follows that empirici are to be pre
ferred to oratores or historices, and theorici to poetas reales; for the former
discover certain experiences, the latter only hypotheses which issue from these
experiences and which are apparently taken from Nature itself.’224 Nothing could
be farther from contemporary reality than Leibnitz’s notion of a ‘ conspiratio
and closer correspondence of learned men Jena contradicted Leipzig; a con
troversy raged between the Académie des Sciences and the Royal Society; and
Catholic influence closed the doors of the Academia del Cimento. Each man in
fact remained isolated in his ‘ sphaera activitatis ’ ; thus each man avoided the
general conflict and ‘ found pardon before God and before his conscience ’.
Leibnitz refused to accept, as we have seen, the speculative theoria—the
cosmology—of scholasticism as a secure foundation of contemporary educa
tion; instead, he advanced into the insecure regions of the new scientific ideo
logy. Hence the very relation of thought and action became an acute problem
for him. What he encountered in his quest, however, was not an intellectual
problem (for he was never able to give an adequate account of it), but the live
experience of crisis. Contemporary education, in his view, was problematic
because the manifoldness of empirical experience threatened the unity of know
ledge. The philosophical formulation of the problem is this : How is the world
as an object of consciousness related to the world as an object of empirical
experience? And he answers the question in two early autobiographical re
flections: ‘ Mira rerum varietate delectabar. . . . Ignorabant illi, non posse animum
meum uno rerum genere expleri . . .’,225 and ‘ Utique enim, nos varietas delectat,
sed reducta in unitatem \ 226
This maxim, ‘ that we can only rejoice in variety when it is reduced to unity ’,
anticipates the essence of his whole philosophical system; and it elucidates the
term uni-versality which, more perfectly than any other, expresses all that
Leibnitz stood for; for the derivation of this uni-versum signifies a turning or
‘ verting ’ of the world’s manifold ‘ all ’ into the mind’s single ‘ unity ’. The
uomo universale of the Renaissance had been just such a term; for here too a
plurality of modes of existence and thinking was seen as concentrated within
the single entity of an in-dividuum who, in spite of his manifold interests, acti
vities and characteristics, was yet an integrated uomo singulare. This then is the
heritage Leibnitz took up. It was passed on to him through German mysticism,
T H E C U L T U R A L C R IS IS A N D IT S S O L U T IO N 95
where the human individual is portrayed as a small universe; thus Nicholas
Cusanus speaks of the manner in which the whole Cosmos lies 4infolded 9 in
man. Here mysticism raises a problem which Leibnitz attempted to answer:
6Universal ’, he writes, £means not only 16 resembling the Universe as a whole ” ,
but also, surely, 44 belonging to the Universe in essence ” and therefore uni
versally valid \ This 4universal * the mystic seeks not in the manifold world of
phenomena—in that world in which Leibnitz 4rejoices ’—but in the innermost
of his soul, where he, as an 4essential man 9 (in the words of Angelus Silesius)
encounters the essential Being of the divine universe. Instead of this mystical
foundation Leibnitz’s age postulated a rational foundation (‘ Vernunftgrund ')
which could be reached not by emotional ecstasy, but by an 6exertion of con
ceptual thinking ’ (as Hegel called it). Leibnitz from the first relates the mystical
to a rational foundation. Just as the psyche, to him, is immanently logical,
so the logos is immanently psychic. The mystical origins of his new rationalist
cosmology can be discerned most clearly in his Bedenken zur Auffrichtung einer
Sozietät in Deutschland (‘ Memorandum on the Founding of a learned Society
in G erm any’, 1671), where he discusses the tasks of a new practical education
in theocratic terms.
All education (he writes there) should tend towards a true, that is 4practical
knowledge of God. To attain to this knowledge, three kinds of men are neces
sary: first, a class of 4 orators ’ and 4priests ’, who will disseminate it in the
world; secondly, a class of ‘ philosophers’, whose task is to elucidate and
exhibit the harmony of all God-made things; and thirdly, the most perfect
class of 4moralists, politicians and statesmen who, being the tools of God,
increase the perfection of this world, but have to rely for their support upon the
two lower classes. What is most characteristic of this Memorandum is its essen
tially practical purpose ; for it aims at translating the mystic-rational dogma of
Universality into a practical social organization of the Estates. The Society is
to 4represent ’ the Renaissance uomo universale in terms of a theocratic institut
ion, in which experience of the manifoldness of European interests is to be
4verted ’ into the unified character of a German Society. In other words, the
task of the Society is to be universal, but its essence individual: 4 varietas—■
sed reducta in unitatem ’. It is, once again, a practical consequence of the first
principle of Leibnitz’s philosophical cosmology, which he will later formulate
in a letter to Arnauld: 4Je tiens pour un axiome cette proposition identique qui
n'est diversifiée que par Vaccent, sçavoir que ce qui n'est pas véritablement UN
estre, n'est pas non plus véritablement un ESTRE. On a toujours crû que l'un et
l'estre sont des choses réciproques. Autre chose est l'estre, autre chose est des
estres; mais le pluriel suppose le singulier, et là où il n’y a pas un estre, il y aura
encor moins plusieurs estres. Que peut on dire de plus clair ?’227 This tautological
proposition becomes significant only by the accentuation its parts receive from
a lively and powerful intellect, that is by being translated from the void of a
formal context into the fullness of a concrete situation.
A comparison with a very similar plan of Comenius’s will show how much
Leibnitz remains indebted in his reflection to his age. In his Didactica Magna
of 1657 Comenius described the human spirit as 4 infinitum quiddam et inter
minabile ’, and compared it to a spherical mirror which reflects the world on
a diminished scale.228 Yet in Comenius’s view man need not strive to gather
within himself the world’s infinity, because he is by nature an 4entire small
world ’, even 4a God en miniature ’, 4entire in himself, like a circle \ 229 Man,
who is made in God’s image, creates for himself a 4mundus repraesentatitius ’,
a world in which the ‘ orbis scientiarum the whole round of the sciences, is
not only collected encyclopaedically, but also arranged ‘ pan-sophistically ’
around the central rational foundation.230
Leibnitz of course knew and valued the writings of Comenius.231 The ‘ re
flexio in unitatem \ however, which Comenius postulated as a mythical dogma,
remained for Leibnitz an unsolved scientific and political problem, disturbing
his conscience and the peace of his practical mind. Comenius’s 1pansophic ’
solution he called *Lullian and metaphysical a dream unrelated to the political
reality of the world as he knew it; and so he remained distrustful of the mystics’
‘ disproportio ingenii et iudicii ’.
4
Two events in Leibnitz’s education point to his experience of the dilemma:
first, his break with Leipzig University and the subsequent disputation at Alt-
dorf, the University of Nuremberg; and secondly, his refusal to accept a chair at
Altdorf and his subsequent departure from the academic world into the mysterious
and enticing world of European politics. Whatever were the immediate causes
of these decisions, both reveal the incompatibility of scholastic orthodoxy with
his own educational ideas. At this point the historical development impinged
upon his personal fate. The emergence of the uomo singulare from the traditional
order is manifest in the sharp critique of dogmatism contained in his Memoran
dum to the Duke o f Württemberg; this work (in which he advised the Duke
to move from Stuttgart, where he lived at that time, to Cannstadt) was com
missioned by Christian Habbeus, the Swedish chargé d'affaires at the courts of
the German Princes; it was written in the winter of 1668-1669.232
In form and content this Memorandum gives a paradigmatic account of the
idea of educational reform. As the capital is to the state (he writes), so the
University should be to education: a central institution, a live reductio in
unitatem. The University, too,
belongs to a residential and commercially important town. This may well seem a peculiar
view to him who believes in the vulgar maxim that Universities should be situated in quiet
solitary places, so that young men should not be disturbed at their studies, nor in any way
distracted from them. . . . Yet, to tell the truth, nothing has so much contributed to the
spirit of Pedantry (now on the wane) than just this rule, which derives from monasticism.
In the beginning almost all erudition resided with the monks; and as they made a m o n o
p o liu m thereof, it is small wonder that they pursued their affairs monkishly, which should
now in all fairness cease.
It will be observed that Leibnitz not only identifies the actual defects of con
temporary university education, but goes to their historical roots. In an age of
mathematical and empirical science education can no longer be a ‘ monopoly
nor must it be pursued 4monkishly \ The traditional educational method has
degenerated into 4pedantry ’, the situation must be consciously and intelligently
understood, and every disregard of it amounts ultimately to irresponsibility.
This monkish erudition consisted chiefly in empty thought and scholastic whims; for
the rest it lacked all experience, activity and reality, and whenever it made its appearance
in the world or in conversation, it was no more than an object of ridicule. . . ,233
This image of the world as a conversation now becomes for Leibnitz the criterion
of what is real. It may well be that it was a personal disappointment which made
him speak so critically of the scholastic tradition.234 Yet there is no doubt that
he touched here upon the weakest point of the German educational system,
and it need not surprise us that his criticism was not well received. The idea of
a 4world-as-conversation ’ contains for him a synthesis of experience, activity
and reality. With it he challenged the learned men of his age :
At the present time, on the other hand [he continues], the sa v a n ts have begun to
conduct experiments, to probe into the things of nature, to devise all sorts of useful
instruments, to think up arts and advantages; they are abolishing all spiritual and philo
sophical superstitions; and they reduce everything to a few Rules,235 basing themselves
in jurisprudence upon Rational Grounds and the Natural Rights emanating from them
rather than upon the opinions of a few Italian professors.236 In medicine too they go to
the very foundations, discovering new vessels in the human body,237 separating things
into their elements by means of fire.238 And thus an entirely new maxim—inimical to the
old one—has become necessary; namely, that the sa v a n ts and students should participate
as much as possible in the conversation, and be as much as they can with other people
and in the world. . . .
This ‘ new maxim . .. inimical to the old 9drove him from Leipzig to Altdorf,
where in 1666 he was admitted to the degree of Licentiate and in 1667 to the
degree of Doctor of Law. Yet here too Leibnitz was pursued by misgivings:
4 He is indeed a'thoroughly bad lawyer he writes, ‘ who knows better what was
lawful a thousand years ago under the Emperor Iustinian, than what is lawful
to-day under the Emperor Leopold. And though he were able to quote a hun
dred Leges out of the Corpus Iuris, yet he cannot write as good a plea on behalf
of a .peasant as any village-teacher can.*239 The reform, however, does not
concern the legal faculty only, but should be of equal value to the medical man :
‘ For seeing that experience is the foundation of medicine, which is as much as
to say that no man can be a good medicus without having experience (while a
man with a good brain can well become a good theologian without experience,
through sheer cogitation), I conclude that to the medicus too it is very important
to learn his art in a noble town and in good conversation.’
At a later date he was able to put his ideas into practice. For upon the death
of his patron Johann Christian Boineburg in December 1672 he was engaged
by Boineburg’s widow as a tutor to her son. Together they went to Paris, where
they were joined by Melchior Friedrich von Schönborn, a nephew of the Elector
of Mainz. Leibnitz took his task of tutorship very seriously, for he hoped that
by successfully educating the two young men he could improve his position at
Mainz, which, after the deaths of his patron in 1672 and of the Elector in Feb
ruary 1673, had worsened considerably. In his correspondence with Anne
Christine von Boineburg and with her secretary Jacob Münch he thought it
expedient to give an account of his (surprisingly modern)240 ideas about the
duties of a private tutor. The young baron had to live with Leibnitz, and his
whole day was planned in detail for him; his time-table was exacting and for
midable in scope.241 Nor can it be said that he entirely shared Leibnitz’s learned
enthusiasm; his ideas of education were rather more libertin than those of
Leibnitz, who complained in a letter to the young man’s mother: 4Whenever
he applies himself to a task he is able to discharge it well. But he lacks will
power and finds a hundred praetextes for his negligence \ 242 Leibnitz was
unwilling to grant his pupil sufficient freedom, and this soon led to a rupture
between them; Leibnitz went on to London, the young Boineburg returned to
Germany.
Although Leibnitz was later frequently faced with educational problems, he
never again accepted a tutorship. In 1693 he wrote for La Bodinère a Projet
de VEducation d'un Prince, which was later also used by Cuneau for the education
of the young King Frederick William I of Prussia. In his draft for the Saxon
Academy (1703) Leibnitz once again discussed the education of Princes—in
particular of the Saxon Crown Princes—and recommended, instead of the
exclusively humanist syllabus of the Dauphins at Versailles, a more 4realistic
education based upon tables, models and the famous 4 theatrum naturae ’.243
And thus Leibnitz, the uomo universale, was consulted by many Princes as an
authority on educational problems, yet unlike Francke or Semler he was not,
strictly speaking, a teacher.
We have already shown how Leibnitz attempted, by means of his plans for
an Academy, to solve the conflict between the Schools and practical life, or, to
use his own terminology, between 4disputatio ’ and 4conversation \ In religious
matters and in politics, in philosophy and in the sciences—everywhere the
Academic unity was to serve as a firm foundation of a new peace. As regards
education, this Academic idea can be seen from a social and political, from a
scientific, and finally from a religious point of view. As an institution the Aca
demy was designed ultimately to give reality to the dream of a 4 theorici Empiricis
felici connubio ’ ; it should, as the old Leibnitz wrote in the Nouveaux Essais,
4 secure the alliance of practice with theory \ The term 4alliance ’ is, in Leib
nitz’s philosophy, the political equivalent of the metaphysical term 4harmony \
And in postulating these terms as the ultimate goal of all education, Leibnitz
was guided by his own experience of contemporary reality; to the citizen of a
disrupted state, to the savant of a decaying culture, to the Christian of an ato
mized Church, harmony must needs appear as the one state desirable above all
others. In this sense the Academy stands for a real equivalent of the ideal
monad. As a national assembly of cultured Christians, the Academy repre
sents a supra-national republic of believers of many denominations, while as a
national monad it is to be in a pre-established harmony with all other European
Academies. Every Academy reflects in an individual, that is national, manner
the totality of European culture, whose influences now begin to spread as far
afield as Russia, China and America. And the metaphysical 4hypothèse des
accords ’ (which Leibnitz will later postulate244) applies also to the inter-connec
tions between these new institutions: this 4accord . . . réglé par avance ’245 is
not merely physical, but also intellectual and moral. To Leibnitz this 4cor
respondence ’ appeared not as a hope, but as the concrete reality to which his
day-to-day activities were committed. His life provided as it were a concrete
precept for the institution he wished to establish.
The analogy between the future Academy and the monad applies also as
regards their internal structures; for the Academy too, in so far as it informs
manifoldness with unity, can be said to have perception; and in so far as it
represents scientific and intellectual advancement, it has monadic appetition.
The perceptive intensification of knowledge and the appetitive extensification
of knowledge are to be the partners in that 4 happy matrimony \
These then are the rudiments of Leibnitz’s later systematic work, in par
ticular of the Monadology, which he wrote at the end of his amazingly active
life. The famous 4monadic poem ’ (as Frederick the Great called it) is part of
the philosophical story of Leibnitz’s life; a metaphysical composition, it is in
this sense a counterpart to Goethe’s Faust. In writing the Monadology, in this
final exertion of conceptual reflection, the aged Leibnitz seems to be freeing
himself from all cares for the future and from his own commitment to the
present. In a grandiose review he retraces this whole complex process of be
coming what he now is, and, raising the essence of that recollected existence to
the level of metaphysics, he turns it into a generalization relevant to all human
existence; for the world too has a story of development to tell; the world too
follows the journey of the Self.
Once again we have arrived at the point where Leibnitz’s real and ideal
activities coincide; for so far as it is possible to consider the building of systems
as an activity of organizing concepts, Leibnitz the philosopher faces the same
problem as Leibnitz the founder of Academies: the problem of how to realize
unity within manifoldness, and how to turn chaos into cosmos.
The first draft of the Memorandum on the Founding o f a learned Society in
Germany was written in 1669; the last, on October 28th 1716, a fortnight
before Leibnitz’s death: these two dates span a life-time’s concern for the
education of modern European man. Throughout, Leibnitz retained an open
mind for every new question and view voiced in the controversy of his age.
This ‘ open-mindedness this attitude of sensitive and sympathetic attention,
characteristic of the uomo universale, must now briefly engage our attention.
At the same time we must follow the dialectical movement of the concepts of
universality and individuality as they issue into the problem of representation,
which is the central concept of Leibnitz’s metaphysics.
4 *
i
CHAPTER III
UNIVERSAL CORRESPONDENCE
1
The relation between the universal and the individual, when reviewed as
the dialectic of an individual man’s development, can be interpreted in psycho
logical or metaphysical terms; and in the recent past of European reflection
many such interpretations can be found. Thus Leibnitz’s and Goethe’s attempts
to interpret the conflicting forces of scholastic and academic education on one
hand and of the world at large on the other within the context of a general
ontology have received especial recognition by European thought; and we
shall eventually have to consider the consequences of what amounts to an over
estimate of these interpretations. But our first question must be this: how can
individual man become an educated, or cultured, or developed, being? How
can he, as a cultured being, stand the .test of the chaotic controversy of his time ?
Is it possible for him to harmonize his universal culture—which entails a reflect
ive open-mindedness and a readiness to accept influences from anywhere—
with his individual culture—which entails reflective self-assertion? And how,
finally, can a man, through education and culture, be made aware of his respon
sibility, of his commitment? This question above all others concerns Leibnitz.
He has left the academic discussion, and has not been received into any other
school of thought; unprepared and unaided, Leibnitz is plunged into the uni
versal controversy, 6in which ’, as he writes, ‘ all tends to chaos The crisis
at this point is manifest as a controversy between the 4 Self ’ as a self-conscious
unit and the ‘ World ’ as a contradictory plurality. This aspect of the contro
versy it is which impels the philosophical consciousness to go on asking ques
tions: How does the Self participate in the world? What precisely is the nature
of this ‘ participation ’ ? If this 4World this 4whole is no more than a
notional order—if, the world being what it is, it is not true—how then is it to be
encompassed as reall What becomes of the unity of self-consciousness if the
in-dividuum, in the infinite regression of reflection, has landed in an ‘ abyss ’246
from which he can only be saved by faith? All these philosophical questions
centre on the ever-present experience of a conflict between the universal and
the individual.
Our first task will be to elucidate the nature of Leibnitz’s universality. It
is reflected on one hand in his international correspondence, and on the other
in his practical organizing activities in all walks of life. His universal partici
pation in the life of his age leads him to an identification of two kinds of reflec
tion: like the Cartesian cogito, his 4thinking of the world ’ is identical with his
4thinking of the Self’. And his own conduct of life, of which we can here give
only brief glimpses, is a concrete consequence of the Cartesian revolution. In
the course of his active participation in the contemporary controversy, the uni
versality of the world at large remains for Leibnitz a live experience, a phaeno
menon bene fundatum. Yet this experience is only present to him in his restlessly
active life; in a contemplative temper this experience of universality turns into
the concept of an 4harmonia universalis ’, of a notional entity in which each thing
100
U N IV E R S A L C O R R E S P O N D E N C E 101
has its pre-determined place and function. Yet in reality nothing is in its place,
and ‘ the whole is deranged \ His imaginatively conceived order of existence is
separated by a gulf from the real chaos of the age ; a desire to bridge this gulf,
to put this ideal order into practical effect, is the motive which impels a man like
Leibnitz again and again to turn to ‘ the deed and reality 5 [‘ that und würck-
ligkeit ’] of coherent and orderly reflection.
This ideal order is created by an imagination whose essence Leibnitz con
sidered to be the intellectual and spiritual force of individuality; its concrete
manifestation is the uomo universale as the centre of a world of courtly con
vention and politics, of spirituality and of the intellect. The individuality of
the Prince, in so far as it is at home in the closed universe of a court, represents
a monadic being. This being is equally well endowed with reason and with the
will, and its imagination ‘ cannot be explained from mechanical causes ’.247
Analogously to the 6Universal Monarchy 5 (which is mentioned at the end of
the MonadologyX his ‘ princely representative ’ (statesman, Elector or poly
histor) is ‘ a moral [being] in the natural world, the highest and most divine
among the creatures of God; it is in this [being] that the glory of God really
consists, for He would have no glory were not His greatness and His goodness
known and admired by [princely] spirits \ 248 To the essence and appearance
of this intellectual individuality Leibnitz gave the name of monad. Yet both,
harmony and monad, are only conceptual ‘ representations ’ or symbols of a
heightened and imaginatively interpreted existence.
2
Leibnitz was not a professional philosopher.249 In this respect he differed
both from the scholastic tradition and from the unattached modern thinkers of
the age. And he further differed both from his contemporaries and from his
followers (such as Christian Wolff) in this, that the impulse behind his philo
sophic reflection was always concrete. To him the aim of reflection was not the
creation of a closed system,250 nor the formulation of a doctrine, but the critical
elucidation of a complex concrete situation. It is significant that not before the
age of forty (in his Discours of 1686) did he write oiit the first sketch of his
metaphysical system ; and even then the main philosophical impetus was spent
not in the work itself, but in the 6spiritual conversation ’ which ensued between
Leibnitz, Arnauld and the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels. Just so in
his later works: the Theodicy is an attempt to answer some of the problems
Pierre Bayle had touched upon in his Dictionnaire of 1695-97, and the Nouveaux
Essais have a direct bearing on Locke’s Essay Concerning Human Understanding.
And that he himself thought of his works above all as occasional pieces of no
more than ad hoc importance is clearly shown by the fact that, owing to the death
of Locke on 28th October 1704, Leibnitz ceased to be interested in the writing
of the Nouveaux Essais and put them away in a drawer ; it was Rudolf Raspe
who found and published them sixty years later (1765). In a letter to Pierre Coste,
the French translator and propagator of empiricism, Leibnitz wrote in 1704:
Le grand mérite de Monsieur Lock, et l’estime générale que son ouvrage a gagnée
avec tant de justice, . . . m’a fait employer quelques semaines à des remarques sur cet
important ouvrage, dans l’espérance d’en conférer avec Mr. Lock luy même. Mais sa
mort m’a rebuté et a fait que mes réflexions sont demeurées en arrière, quoyqu’elles
soyent achevées. Mon but a esté plustost d’éclaircir les choses, que de refuter les sentimens
d’autruy.251
A critical examination of first principles was forced upon Leibnitz by the
acute crisis of the contemporary situation. He responded to the call of the world
at large not as a scholastic philosopher, but as one who was directly involved in
the issue at hand : as a lawyer and diplomat at Mainz ; as Privy Councillor and
librarian in Hanover and Vienna; as a mining expert in the Harz mountains;
as an historian of the Guelphs in Italy; and as politician and Christian mis
sionary to Peter the Great in Carlsbad. He lived and thought in immediate
contact with his surroundings. He became so entangled in his numerous rela
tions with the world around him that almost all we know about him consists
in our knowing what he was to other men; for in spite of constantly wishing
to live for himself, his activities forever involved him in the lives of others. He
was permanently over-worked, and his activities, interests, plans and schemes
grew so complex and intricate that it is, for an outside observer, hardly possible
to say what, at any given moment, were the ends and what the means of any one
of his pursuits. It was inevitable, in these circumstances, that to the people
who worked with him, especially towards the end of his life, he should appear
sinister and mysterious. Yet there is no mystery in all this; it is merely that
the very universality of his interests leads him to the state of troubled eccentricity
peculiar to one who everywhere appears in the rôle of mediator and yet is no
where entirely at home.
In this unhappy state philosophy appeared to him above all as a means of
finding his bearings in the world. In order to prove one’s worth in the battle of
opinions and in order to be able to give an intelligent account of decisions
(once they have been taken), it is necessary (as he says) ‘ to fish at the very
bottom \ Therefore Leibnitz gives a central position (.Monadoiogy §§ 31-36) to
those principles of reason which make possible a philosophy that is both a
doctrine of universal being and a subjective elucidation of consciousness:
Our reasonings are founded upon two great principles: that of c o n tra d ic tio n , . . .
and that of su ffic ie n t reason, in virtue of which we hold that there can be no fact real or
existing, no statement true, unless there be a sufficient reason why it should be so and not
otherwise, although these reasons cannot be usually known by us.
It is clear that this principle of sufficient reason refers to reality, to its essence
and specific attributes, and to the nature of our statements about it. But it
may be observed that if the principle is restated thus—Every judgment which is
not immediately and self-evidently certain requires an account of its sufficient
reason—it is seen to apply with equal force to rational truths, which require
deductive reasoning for their demonstration.
And, thirdly, there is ‘ the beautiful lex continui which I was perhaps the first
to establish ’,252 the law according to which ‘ all is woven into one, or as Hippo
crates said, otjpjrvoia Travra’.253 In his Preface to the Nouveaux Essais Leibnitz
restates it in these famous words :
Nothing is accomplished at once, and it is one of my greatest fundamental laws, and
one of the best verified, that n a tu re m a k e s no leaps. . . ,254 To think otherwise is to have
little knowledge of the immense subtility of things, which always and everywhere contains
within itself a real [jc.actual] infinity.
The more fully the validity of these three principles is denied by the reality
of .contemporary life around him, the more firmly does Leibnitz embrace them.
In the contemporary controversy (that is, in the world viewed as pre-logical
reality) no sufficient reason is to be found; it is full of contradictions; and it
is discontinuous. And 4considering that in three-fourths of our acts we are
mere empiricists ’,255 it is just this experience of contemporary strife which con
tains the impetus to orderly and critical reflection. It is reflection and the asser
tion of principles which 4distinguishes us from mere animals and gives us
Reason and the sciences; for it raises us to the knowledge of ourselves and of
God \ 256 At the point where we 4rise to acts of reflection . . . we are made to
think of what is called the Self, and observe that this or that is within us \ The
Cartesian nature of Leibnitz’s philosophical thought is thus clearly established;
and so is his identification of self-knowledge with self-assertion: 4and thus \
he continues the above passage, 4by thinking of ourselves we also think of
being, of substance, of the simple and the compound, of the immaterial and of
God Himself. . . . And these acts of reflection furnish the chief objects of our
reasonings.’257
This then was the answer he gave to the anxious question of how the Self
and the world are related; this answer was given in the course of his responsible
participation in the affairs of the world; as a metaphysical solution it is an
expression o f 4existence conceived in activity ’. A concrete example of this idea
is to be found in Leibnitz’s enormous correspondence. From the age of twenty
onwards he flooded Europe with letters, treatises and memoranda; according
to his own estimate, he wrote annually at least three hundred letters,258 in all
some fifteen thousand have been preserved. Letters, for Leibnitz, were the fitting
form and expression of the monadic mode of thought; for the contemporary
savants letter-writing was a substitute for the conversation of the courts. With
the exchange of news of every kind, of codified political and scientific secrets,
distances became unimportant, and the restrictions of mediaeval towns were
suspended. Secure in their self-conscious isolation, the uomini singulari were
sending their elaborate epistles all over Europe, while at the same time avoiding
personal contact as much as possible. Letters, in short, were spiritual forces
which—like Newton’s physical forces—evoked response and reaction at a
distance. Personal contact was unimportant (thus Leibnitz conducted a very
lengthy correspondence with Clarke without ever meeting him), what mattered
was a man’s reputation as a letter-writer. Leibnitz, for example, introduced
himself to the Duke of Hanover and to the Landgrave of Hesse with long
enumerations of his epistolary achievements.
Leibnitz’s participation in this correspondence illustrates the intellectual
universality which we have mentioned; and we are now in a positi an to elucidate
the concept of the monad itself. This metaphysical symbol is simply a caractère
that stands for those centres of intellectual forces which are 4in correspondence ’
with one another. The pre-determined harmony of these corresponding esprits
is safeguarded by the ceremonious and formal nature of contemporary letter-
writing, which draws a polite veil over all real antithesis and contradictions.
Thus Leibnitz himself was a subtle and most tactful writer. His letters to the
Emperor no less than to the simple mining people in the Harz are full of cor
diality, always perfectly in harmony with the recipients’ frame of mind. And
yet, in spite of this voluminous correspondence, communication remained
problematic. In spite of thoughtfulness and mutual good will, one after another
the discussions (with the French: Arnauld, Malebranche, Bossuet, Pellisson;
and with the English: Clarke, Newton, Locke) foundered upon trivial misun
derstandings or fundamental incongruities. And in this predicament Leibnitz
demanded the creation of a 4lingua universalis that is, of a mathematical,
uniquely exact, means of communication. 4With all these matters ’, he writes.
to Jacob Spener, ‘ I am much concerned, but most of all with a plan I have
carried in my mind for a long time now: to reduce all human reflective activities
to a set calculus, as is already done with numbers in algebra and in the Ars
Combinatoria. And thus . . . many quarrels will be removed, the certain dis
tinguished from the uncertain, for the contesting parties will simply say to each
other, Let us calculate!’259
Leibnitz himself recalls that Jacob Boehme had spoken of a ‘ lingua aca-
demica it may be added that Descartes too mentions the idea of a universal
language,260 and that J. J. Becher and Athanasius Kircher worked on a similar
project.261 Leibnitz’s plan grew out of the concrete experience of his correspon
dence; and all he wished to do was to reduce the various modes of language
to his concept of a ‘ vraye logique ’, in which, he believed, all communication is
founded. Yet of the many essays written in the ’eighties only fragments remain
extant,262 and the plan itself—an ideal after which every genuine rationalism
strives—was never realised, even though he was unhappy in the knowledge
that ‘ after much agitation it is generally the violent emotions which prevail
over reason, and we conclude a controversy abruptly (as though cutting the
Gordian knot), rather than by solving it. This is especially true in deliberations
concerning practical life, where something is to be settled. But it is given to few
to weigh, as though in a balance, advantages and disadvantages—and there are
often many of both.’263
This voluminous correspondence, to which Leibnitz doubtless devoted
several hours of his daily work, was as it were a substitute for, and an antici
pation of, the future Society. The public and political activity of the Society
was eventually to replace the private business of letter-writing; in other words,
the correspondence was to be ‘ organized in the public interest Leibnitz’s
correspondence was always conducted with a view to the future Academy; let
us therefore see how he organized it upon his departure from Altdorf.
With his former teacher Jacob Thomasius he was engaged in a controversy
about Aristotle and modern philosophy; here he was anxious to avoid appearing
intransigent and attempted a compromise. On hearing of Henry Oldenburg
and of the London Royal Society, he fancied that the completion of a philosophia
reformata was imminent.264 In Frankfurt he met Jacob Spener, who introduced
Leibnitz—a new ally in the struggle against atheism—to the Augsburg theo
logian Gottlieb Spitzel. The young Johann Heinrich Horb (who was later
active on behalf of pietism and suffered persecution for his work) also belonged
to this circle; Horb’s accounts of his many journeys reached Leibnitz through
Spener. And Horb was Leibnitz’s first contact with the Dutch scholars Jan
George Graevius and Jan van Diemerbroeck. Christian von Boineburg’s intel
lectual reputation all over Europe survived his political downfall in Mainz, and
his patronage gained Leibnitz many important correspondents, among them
Boineburg’s old friend, the famous Helmstedt legal scholar Hermann Coming,
and the Strasbourg historian Johann Heinrich Boeckler. Conring was rather
critical of the young lawyer’s Corpus iuris reconcinnatum, and Leibnitz’s ideas
on physics and philosophy he rejected outright. Boineburg’s private secretary,
the Jesuit Johann Gamans of Aschaffenburg, provided the link with other learned
Jesuits: with Kochanskÿ of Prague, with the famous physicist Athanasius
Kircher, and with Honoratus Fabri, former secretary of the Academia del
Cimento. Kochanskÿ introduced him to the problems of natural philosophy;
and in the summer of 1669 at Schwalbach Leibnitz borrowed from Erich Mauri
tius a copy of the Philosophical Transactions, in which he read an account of
U N IV E R S A L C O R R E S P O N D E N C E 105 •
the famous quarrel between Wren and Huygens about the discovery of the laws
o f collision; Leibnitz’s Theoria motus abstracti was written partly as a reply to
this controversy. In July 1670 he wrote for the first time to the aged Thomas
Hobbes, but the letter remained unanswered. Henry Oldenburg in London,
on the other hand, and through him Christian Huygens in Paris, soon became
his faithful correspondents. A common friend introduced him to Martin Fogel
of Hamburg, a pupil of the late Jungius, whose work he valued very highly;
for many years Leibnitz tried in vain to persuade Fogel to publish Jungius’s
posthumous papers.265 With Otto von Gueriçke a long correspondence devel
oped about the famous experiments with the Magdeburg Hemispheres. Leib
nitz’s first letter to Paris was addressed to the poet and humanist Jean Chapelain,
whom it probably never reached. A more successful French contact was estab
lished with the young Louis Ferrand, who met Leibnitz on his travels through
Germany. Ferrand studied Oriental literatures and acquainted Leibnitz with
Colbert’s adviser, the Royal Librarian Pierre de Carcavy. On Ferrand’s behalf
(and indirectly on Carcavy’s) Leibnitz purchased the famous Abulfeda Manu
script from the Orientalist Magnus Hesenthaler of Stuttgart. Hesenthaler again
was in touch with the Southern German followers of Comenius, and also with
Oldenburg. Carcavy commissioned Leibnitz to purchase books for the Royal
Library at the Frankfurt book-fair. In a single month—May 1671—he wrote,
or completed, and dispatched the following works: a treatise on Immortality,
to the Duke John Frederick of Hanover; an essay on Fate, to the Kiel lawyer
Wedderkopf; a draft for a perpetuum mobile, to Johann Daniel Crafft; and a
set of first designs for a calculating machine, to Carcavy. At the same time his
Notitia Opticaepromoiae was published; immediately he sent a copy to Spinoza
at the Hague, and received a curt and rather cool acknowledgement. In a letter
to Colbert (addressed to Carcavy) he asked to be appointed scientific corres
pondent, and wrote that his coming to Paris would depend upon the success of
his request. Although the request failed, he went to Paris before the end of the
year. In his last letter to the Tübingen Orientalist Albert von Holten he asked
to be kept informed on the state of German Oriental studies.
In Paris it was the gifted Schick—son of a Mainz businessman—who intro
duced him to several learned circles in which the curieux assembled for scientific
and intellectual conversations. By the Autumn of 1672 he had been admitted
into the company of Huygens and Arnauld, and before his departure for Eng
land in January 1673 he had entered into correspondence with the Dauphin’s
preceptor, Daniel Huet, later Bishop of Avranches. Louis Davillé’s lively account
of Leibnitz’s numerous contacts with the learned men of Paris makes it un
necessary to continue the enumeration.266 It must, however, be stressed that in
Paris too Leibnitz’s interests were not confined to scientific matters. Again he
studied Pufendorf’s doctrine of Natural Law, and exchanged letters with the
author; he worked on a history of natural philosophy for the Dauphin, dis
cussed legal questions with the Hamburg lawyer Yinzent Placcius, continuing
the work he had begun at Mainz (the Corpus Iuris) as if it had never been inter
rupted. In the autumn of 1671 the Swedish chargé d'affaires Christian Habbeus
acquainted him with Pufendorf ; three years later the connection was taken up
once more. No acquaintance was ever forgotten, each meeting led to new
discussions. In 1675 he came to know the learned Walter von Tschirnhaus (the
inventor of Meissen china); in September they met in Paris, where Tschirnhaus
had arrived from London to take up a post as tutor to Colbert’s son. The
Amsterdam physician Georg Schuller wrote to his friend Spinoza of the meeting
between the two Germans, Tschirnhaus told Leibnitz of Swammerdam,
Leeuwenhoek and of Spinoza’s Ethics, which was known only to a small circle
of friends. Leibnitz writes how he ‘ sermonized at Tschirnhaus on his praeiu-
diciae, derived mainly from Spinoza and Descartes \ Descartes’s work now
became the main topic of his correspondence; he ransacked the Paris book
shops for manuscripts, and Clerselier, Descartes’s closest friend, permitted him
to copy some unpublished treatises.267 No doubt the contact with Tschirnhaus
was at that time very close, as may be seen from the many manuscripts of
mathematical calculations in which they collaborated.268 But here too it was
‘ violent emotions ’ rather than ‘ reason ’ which prevailed, and in later years
their correspondence ended with a number of long quarrels as to who was to
claim the discovery of various mathematical ideas.269
It is characteristic of the new autonomous mode of thinking that it refuses
to allow for the possibility of contradictions and that it denies the existence of
insoluble conflicts. So certain is this autonomous self-consciousness of the
‘ transcendental unity of all apperception ’ that it wastes little time over actual
and concrete difficulties. Thus Leibnitz went on his journeys quite unconcerned
about crossing from one political or intellectual camp into another. From France
he went to England, thence into the hostile Netherlands (where he met the
proscribed circle of Spinozists), and on into Catholic Hanover, where the
recently converted Danish naturalist Niels Steno was fomenting the Duke’s
hatred of the 4infamous atheist ’ Spinoza. (The Duke John Frederick too had
only recently been converted.) Leibnitz was well aware that the result of his
‘universal correspondence’ was universal suspicion; it was suspicion he met with
from Spinoza at Paviljoensgracht270 no less than from the court at Hanover.
To solve the difficult situation in which he found himself on his return to Hano
ver, and to clear himself of all charges, he submitted to the Duke John Frederick
a copy of the famous letter which Spinoza in 1675 had sent to Albert Burgh.
This pupil of Spinoza’s had gone to Italy, where he had been converted to
Catholicism; writing in the first transport of his conversion, Burgh had de
manded of the Jewish lens-grinder that he should follow his example.271 Spinoza
had replied in a dignified and noble manner, making use of all those arguments
which Leibnitz himself—a free-thinking Protestant at a Catholic Court—could
not freely employ. At the same time, however, even though he would not sub
scribe to Steno’s abusive views, Leibnitz was anxious to prove his anti-Spinozist
attitude. When, therefore, Schuller included in his edition of Spinoza’s Opera
Posthuma a letter of 1671, in which Leibnitz had addressed several optical
queries to Spinoza, Leibnitz’s indignation was considerable, the more so since
he had expressly asked Schuller to omit all mention of his correspondence.
In this and countless similar situations the conflict between individual reputation
and scientific universality, between truth and veracity, became actual; and the
violence with which he repudiated all charges of ‘ Spinozism ’ makes it clear
how much was at stake for him in the predominantly Catholic world around
him. Unable to bring his ambiguous attitude—the practising of a ‘ double
truth ’—in harmony with his sensitive conscience, he made the theory and prac
tice of conciliation his chief concern. The contradictions of this world, he well
knew, had to be solved not only in a philosophical system, but in concrete
reality too; and for the sake of his peace of mind he had first to solve them in
reality. In his political memorandum of 1697 he writes: ‘ We must needs always
do that which best agrees with things; we must accommodate ourselves to the
world, for the world will not accommodate itself to us.’272 The world in which he
moved was full of intrigues—we need only recall the notorious Königsmarck
affaire—and Leibnitz was quite at home in this atmosphere; anonymity and
the ambiguities of baroque etiquette, in which truth and pretence are nicely
blended, come out in such passages as the following:
Monseigneur Caesanarius Fuerstenarius fait de plaisants effets. Etant dernièrement
chez M. Pufendorf, je ne pus me défendre d’en parler.. . . Pour le confirmer dans ce senti
ment de ce livre, j ’en ai parlé assez librement, jusqu’à réfuter quelques endroits. . . . Ces
manières de parler ont fait que M. Pufendorf a dit à un de mes amis (qui me l’a rapporté
et qui ne sait rien de tout cela) qu’il m’avait soupçonné au commencement d’y avoir
trempé, mais qu’il en était désabusé maintenant. . . ,273
In this letter to the Duke John Frederick Leibnitz appears as a past master in
court intrigue and in the pseudonymous style clair-obscur which is so charac
teristic of the age. This kind of letter, and even more his pamphlet Drôle de
pensée touchant une sorte de représentation (1675), is dominated by a peculiar
rationalist playfulness, which verges on the irresponsible.274
In Hanover, where he always felt himself isolated, Leibnitz began systemati
cally to organize his European correspondence. Adolf Hansen became Leib
nitz’s personal agent in Paris. It was he who every week sent Leibnitz all the
French journals; delivered Leibnitz’s letters; collected the replies; and gave
elaborate accounts of everything he heard at the latest conversazioni. Apart
from all this it was Hansen’s thankless and hopeless task to supervise the me
chanic Olliver, who was (or should have been) working on Leibnitz’s calculating
machine. A further regular Paris correspondent was Henri Justel, Councillor
and secretary to the King, a Protestant who later found a home in England.
He was fascinated by everything out-of-the-ordinary and strange, and in all
inventions that promised an increase of ‘ the comforts of life ’ ; furthermore
Justel (like Daniel Huet) was interested in historical matters, and Leibnitz wrote
for him his first (somewhat sketchy) genealogical treatise. Other acquaintances
were Pellisson the Royal Historian, and Claude Nicaise, who spent his entire
time communicating the latest scientific and learned news to scholars all
over Europe, without adding much of his own to the information. Nicaise had
a kind of central press-agency in which he copied out and redistributed extracts
from all the letters that reached him. In May 1692, on the occasion of his essay
on Descartes, Leibnitz began a correspondence with Nicaise, which lasted to
the end of his life; in the course of it Nicaise became the chief propagator of
Leibnitz’s fame in France. Lastly Nicolas Rémond, chief of the Conseils du
Duc d'Orléans, and Hugony, a young French officer whom Leibnitz met in Ber
lin, remain to be mentioned.
Among Leibnitz’s German correspondents Christian Philipp, Saxon minister
at Hamburg, supplied him mainly with social news. Philosophical and religious
issues were discussed in the triangular correspondence with Antoine Arnauld
and the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels. The correspondence Leibnitz
conducted with Arnauld between 1686 and 1690 is of great philosophical signifi
cance, and may be regarded as a running commentary on the Discours de la
Métaphysique. As to the Landgrave, Leibnitz had already heard about him
from Boineburg; and he had read Ernest’s strange book, Der so wahrhafte als
gantz auffrichtige und discret-gesinnte Catholische (‘ The True, Wholly honest
and discreet Catholic ’), which could only be obtained as a present from its
author. The converted Duke of Hanover possessed a copy of the book, and
when in 1680 the Landgrave wrote to enquire about it, it was Leibnitz who
replied on the Duke’s behalf. The ensuing correspondence275 ended only with
Ernest’s death in 1693. The Landgrave too was a most prolific writer, and had
correspondents in every political and religious camp ; the Reformed, Lutherans,
Catholics, Capuchins, Jesuits, Jansenists—all were the recipients of his volu
minous written (and sometimes even printed) letters. Like Leibnitz, he had the
reunion of the Churches at heart; and he was convinced that Rome would have
to make certain concessions to that end. The nature of these concessions, and
the ways and means of conquering current indifference, passion, hatred and
superstition alike, were the topics of his lively correspondence, and the Land
grave was rather less optimistic about the prospects than Leibnitz, who, among
the Protestants, remained the last brave champion of the cause of reunion. It
was, however, a real disappointment to the Landgrave that 6my more than
dear Leibnitz ’ refused to be converted ; for Leibnitz did not feel certain that
as a Catholic he would be able to retain his intellectual freedom.276 Ernest’s
proselytizing zeal was inspired by the Jansenist Arnauld, who, in an earlier letter
of recommendation to a Capuchin, had described Leibnitz as ‘ lacking nothing
but the true Catholic religion ’ to become one of the great men of the age.
And Leibnitz again was supported in his argument by the Helmstedt theologians,
especially by Walter Molanus, who in 1674 became director of the Hanover
consistory and abbot of Lokkum. In this situation a religious conversation—at
first by means of letters—developed almost spontaneously. The ensuing Con
vention at Hanover marks the end of this correspondence, the appeals to Bos
suet and Pellisson went unanswered, and the whole attempt petered out. In
religious no less than in other matters each man remained (as Leibnitz said)
‘ enclosed in his own sphaera activitatis ’.
The political situation of the time is described most fully in the letters of
the Hanoverian Minister Otto von Grote, who took part in the talks with the
French at Frankfurt. In spite of being commanded to accompany Grote to
Frankfurt, Leibnitz decided to finish the building of his Harz windmills, his
great mining invention. Grote’s letters give us a detailed account of the alter
cations about formal issues and procedure, and of French intransigent terri
torial demands in respect of the 6Réunions ’. Leibnitz knew that for Germany
war—the only alternative offered by France—could only mean defeat, but he
firmly believed that France would not break the peace of Christendom—as
long, at any rate, as the Turks were threatening in the East. Grote on the other
hand did not trust the French, but was ready to stake everything on a war.
Upon Grote’s return to Hanover in January 1683 the conversation on the
ominous issue of whether Louis, ‘ the most Christian of Kings ’, is likely to
act in a Christian fashion was continued, until in August 1683 Leibnitz in his
Mars Christianissimus concluded the discussion with an unambiguous appraisal
of the situation.
3
This European correspondence consists of a long series of altercations and
reconciliations. Everywhere Leibnitz wished to help, advise, participate in the
argument—yet he was unable to exercise any concrete influence upon the course
of events. While conducting this universal correspondence, he was at the same
time anxiously concerned about the execution of a technical project for which
he had gained Duke John Frederick’s support: the ‘ rational’ working of the
Harz silver-mines. During periods of drought, it appears, sufficient water could
not be pumped into the mines to keep the pumps going. The consequent loss of
capital was all the more serious since the Principality aimed at being financially
self-sufficient. The original idea of employing a ‘ second motor ’—wind—came
from the director of the mines, the Dutchman Peter Hartzingk. But Leibnitz
persuaded the Duke that he could 6offer far better windmills and pumps from
[his] own store of inventions and experiences \ And in spite of strong protests
from the mining authorities a contract was signed in 1679, under which Leibnitz
undertook to erect and maintain one windmill for twelve months; in this way
his theory of the 4conjunction of water with wind ’ was to be practically demon
strated. The windmill failed, and after John Frederick’s death in 1679 the miners
renewed their protests, calling Leibnitz 4a dangerous man with whom it bodes
ill to have any dealings ’. Grote succeeded in mediating between Leibnitz and
his opponents, and a new agreement was signed. It was found that sufficient
practical experience could only be gained while the work itself was in progress.
In 1683 the execution of Leibnitz’s design was at last more or less completed,
but as soon as the machine had been working for an hour or two, a sail or some
other part of the windmill broke. Some more improvements were made, until
at last the contrivance was seen to work on several occasions for a whole day at
a time. As the months went on the whole project became a veritable nightmare
to Leibnitz. In November 1682 he had started—according to a new design—to
replace all shafts and transmissions by pipes filled with compressed air. The
project failed, because no pipes were large and airtight enough for the purpose.
Meanwhile, the costs were rising, and by 1683 Leibnitz had spent 2270 thalers,
having originally promised to build a windmill for 300 thalers.
To add to it all he was met with ill-will and spite on all sides. The mining
officials allocated to him the deepest and most difficult mine of all, and one
malicious report after another was being dispatched to Hanover. Against this
Leibnitz protested to the Duke, charging the mining officials with inefficiency,
nepotism and worse. In their report of the 4th March 1682 they declared once
again that the whole project was a complete failure;277 Leibnitz, they stated,
was completely ignorant of mining, and 4believes that in this science all specu
lationes mathematicae whatsoever can be applied ad praxim ’. In November
1683 the Privy Councillors from Hanover arrived in the Harz to take stock and
prepare the usual annual accounts. The windmills could not be shown in action
because there was no wind; instead, the Councillors took note of the miners’
bad mood. Thereupon Duke Ernest Augustus sent Leibnitz a rescript in which
he announced that Leibnitz was forbidden to draw any more money for his
scheme.278 Yet Leibnitz would not give up his desperate quixotic struggle.
Summer after summer he went to the Harz to inspect his windmills, until at last
in the Autumn of 1685 he accepted defeat. His 4reputation his position at
court, were gravely shaken; a moving letter to Jean Gallois tells of his unhap
piness and anxiety.279 Once again—as years ago in Mainz—he began to long
for the peace of private office; again he wished to withdraw from public life,
and to devote himself entirely to his speculationes. Yet this way of escape into
the freedom of reflection remained closed to him. His office of Hofrat involved
him in practical activity, and he remained committed to the cause of the rising
dynasty in every possible way; in financial, economic, diplomatic, legal matters
his advice was sought, and even in questions of etiquette and on the lay-out of
gardens. On the orders of the Electress Sophia it was his duty to advise in
the planning of Herrenhausen; for his design of a grandiose network of cas
cades and ornamental fountains he had to consult French, Dutch and Italian
authorities, to supervise the work of the fresco-painters and stucco-workers,
to choose plants for the park. In everything he was responsible to the Electress,
and every detail was discussed between them.
To repair his relations with the Duke after the Harz fiasco he immediately
drew up a plan for a history of the Guelphs. In this too we must recognize the
strain of universality that predominates in Leibnitz; for in everything his aim
was to discover and establish interrelations and to trace lines of consistent
development—hence he was never short of projects and plans. Thus in his
Gedanken zur Landwirtschaft (4 Reflections upon Agriculture ’)280 he gave an
account of the relation between mining, fiscal policy and economics in general,
and these again he related to political issues. In the same way he transferred
geological and historical topics into the realm of political speculation; and his
plan for a history of the Guelphs, with its accounts of diplomatic inter-marriages
and pacts, was designed to provide an historical sanction for Ernest Augustus’s
purposeful power-politics. The Duke’s rights and duties were to be convinc
ingly deduced on historical grounds, just as had been done at the French 4 Ré
union’ tribunals. And furthermore this genealogical account of the Guelphs
was to establish the dynasty as co-eval with, equal in dignity and related to,
the Italian Este family. This was indeed a most up-to-date undertaking, as the
Princess Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel was in the near future to be married to the
Duke of Modena.
On August 10th 1685 Leibnitz was formally appointed court historian. His
task was entirely in conformity with contemporary events, his work entirely
in the service of absolutist interests, in the service of powers concerned with
anything but scientific precision and objectiveness. Yet the method and means
which Leibnitz devised for his task were very different from what might have
been expected in these circumstances. For what he aimed at was an historical
account based upon original sources;281 and this historical conscientiousness
was to bring him even greater worries than his mining adventures had done.
The logician and mathematician now became interested in every historical
phenomenon. His original aim being soon forgotten, history as such now
occupied his mind, and when at last he turned to the work itself, his stylistic
and critical standards had become so high that the book made but slow pro
gress. It turned out to be the task not of one man but of an Academy. Yet his
masters wanted to see concrete results, a tangible proof of work accomplished
—just as in the Harz episode. There followed admonitions, quarrels, threats to
cut off his salary—the whole project kept him in Hanover as in a prison and
made his life there a misery. He made his escape in frequent journeys abroad,
leaving the court ignorant of his whereabouts. Then again news came that he
was in Wolfenbüttel with the Duke Anton Ulrich, or with the young King in
Berlin, or on behalf of the Tzar in Dresden—and a new set of instructions and
reprimands followed. And just as his mining experiments had landed him in
‘ hopeless manysidedness ’,282 so his historical enterprise grew, first into a
4 universal history in a cosmopolitan sense ’, and ultimately into the Protogaea
(1693), a history of the earth. Once again we observe the same dilemma: again
the free play of his speculations, plans, drafts and aperçus is held in check by
his chosen task, which encompasses his work and urges him on to seek immediate
practical results.
4
Amidst all these manysided pursuits and plans Leibnitz’s reflection remained
dominated by the desire to render to himself a critical account of the world in
which he moved; ‘ Now again it seems to me he writes, ‘ that man’s know
ledge of Nature resembles a warehouse well stocked with merchandise of all
sorts; yet there is no order in it, and no list of all the goods \ 283 The composi
tion of such a ‘ list he hoped, the writing of a Characteristica Universalis,
would help him to solve also his own conflicts and difficulties. A virtue is to
be made of his necessity, the real chaos of opinions, arguments and claims is
to be turned into the cosmos of a rationally ordered world. Thus only can
orderly manifoldness—the harmonia universalis—become fruitful, thus only
does it represent a perennial value.
The problerfi of this value occupied Leibnitz on many occasions during his
life; thus in 1696 he wrote to Gabriel Wagner, editor of a philosophical periodi
cal in Hamburg:
I in my humble position confess that when I was very young I rejected much of what
had been introduced into the learned world. Yet as I grew older and gained a better in
sight I discovered the use of many things which hitherto I had but little esteemed, and thus
I now learned to be cautious in despising anything; which rule I consider to be better and
safer than that discovered by a few Stoic lovers of wisdom and that Horace teaches, which
consists in not admiring anything. Consequently I told the so-called Cartesians in France
and elsewhere and warned them that by mocking at the Schools they would reap no benefit
either for themselves or for their studies, and that thus learned men would merely become
embittered against ideas which are novel but otherwise good.284
Having the continuation of the contemporary conversation and the estab

lishment of a ‘ manysided order ’ at heart, he considered the Cartesians as
dangerous in their onesidedness as the orthodox Aristoteleans; for, he writes,
41 flatter myself that I have entered the harmony of the different realms and
that I have seen that both parties are in the right, provided they do not clash ’.285
He accused the Cartesians of exaggerating the importance of the vérités de
raison and consequently of despising the vérités de fa it, to the establishment of
which historical knowledge is indispensable.286 His aim was therefore a theo
retical and practical synthesis of the natural sciences and the humanities, and
such a synthesis was to be realized in the future learned Society.
Leibnitz’s treatise in defence of scientific universality bears the peculiar title
of Spongia Exprobrationum, seu quod nullum doctrinae verae genus sit con
temnendum (‘ Sponge [for the wiping away] of upbraidings, Or [defence of the
principle] that no branch of true science should be considered worthless *).287
In this work he distinguished between four kinds of ‘ onesided scholars’:
philologists; mathematicians and natural scientists; scholastic philosophers;
and Cartesians; and then proceeded to a detailed account of the true conditions
obtaining in the contemporary republic of letters.
The philologists, he contends, are inclined to pour scorn upon the scienti
fically exact work of others whom they call pedants. But they are attacked by
other learned men with equal scorn, ridiculed by being called schoolmasters
and poets, and even when in their studies of the Classics they come across
thoughts useful outside their own narrow sphere, they fail to get a wider hearing.
The mathematicians and experimental scientists (and here Leibnitz has pro
bably his teacher Huygens in mind) believe that they alone possess knowledge
that is both securely founded and useful to mankind, while all other learned
men are concerned with creations of their fancy. In consequence, mathematicians
are accused by some people of being sorcerers and augurs, while others suspect
them of being inimical to religion, because they are said to dream of new worlds ;
and the practically-minded men (pragmatici homines) consider all the 4subtle
ties ’ of mathematicians mere trifles and a waste of time (and here Leibnitz
probably draws upon his own experiences in Hanover). A third group is that of
scholastic philosophers and theologians, who treat of the most important
matters in a peculiarly arid and severe way—and thus become pedants, super
ciliosi. They arrogate to themselves the position of guardian's of religion and
virtue, and condemn all who in the least deviate from scholastic opinion and
attempt to preserve some measure of philosophical freedom. Consequently
men of a somewhat more liberal turn of mind oppose them in everything, and
criticize now their manners, now their doctrines, now again their style. And
as a worldly courtier Leibnitz adds that, owing to their habit of meditation,
the schoolmen are not exactly attractive companions in society; nor are their
doctrines likely to arouse much enthusiasm, partly because of their non-sensuous
object, and partly because of their peculiar methods. Hence it is hardly sur
prising that the classicists consider them to be barbarians, the mathematicians
regard them as propagators of empty notions and obscurities, and the courtiers
and libertins scorn them as pedants and enemies of all the graces. The fourth
group of onesided scholars stands half-way between mathematicians and scholas
tics. These pick out from all the arts and sciences whatever is the easiest and
most popular, dress it up in pretty words, and make of it a 4philosophia nova et
populare ’, a philosophy agreeable even to the ladies and to courtiers. There is,
says Leibnitz (who later will write his Theodicy for the perusal of the Electress
Sophia), nothing wrong with this kind of writing; it is even praiseworthy, as
long as it is seen for what it is, namely the bare rudiments, the forecourt of
philosophy. Yet many teachers of the new philosophy believe that having
thumbed a few books they have already captured the fortress of truth. What
ever is strange to them they despise ; to mention Plato, Aristotle, the old philo
sophers, or the Church Fathers is to invite their ridicule. They approve of the
study neither of philosophy nor of history, and law above all they consider
unworthy of serious philosophical thought (this particularly offended Leibnitz),
because law is based upon arbitrary human principles. Nor do they understand
the sciences, for they call an astronomer foolish because he prefers telescopic
observation to the amenities of life. And finally (Leibnitz continues) they will
have nothing to do with the scholastics, for to have freed mankind from the
scholastic terminology of 4forms and qualities ’ they make out to be as great
and brave an act as Heracles’s taming of the monsters. Thus they reduce all
knowledge to a realm so small that any giddy courtier can easily master it, and
henceforth become a 4philosopher ’. A true mathematician will laugh at these
paltry calculators (Leibnitz may have had Malebranche in mind) who, having
barely become acquainted with elementary arithmetic, believe themselves
instantly capable of solving every problem under the sun.288 The mechanicians,
again, distrust the bragging of men (he has the Gassendists in mind) who sit
in their studies and conduct great colloquies on the magnitude, number and
motion of non-sensuous corpuscules without ever being able to apply any of their
whims to the world at large. The most violent enemies of the Cartesians, how
ever, are to be found among the theologians. For there are some men (Leibnitz
counts himself among them) who fear that to introduce a mechanical cosmology
and to do away with final causes must needs give rise to a belief that the world is
created not in accordance with a divine plan, but through blind causes. Others
again, unwilling to discard the scholastic notion of substantial forms, refuse to
recognize that the nature of bodies lies in extension, because this would be a
challenge to the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation and to the Lutheran
doctrine of the Real Presence.
Leibnitz gives us here a critical account of the contemporary controversy
as he experienced it first directly, in Paris, and later indirectly, in his correspon
dence. His conclusion is an eloquent protest against the sectarian spirit of
Cartesianism. The superbia of individual philosophers and schools—which he
conveys with many lively details—is to him a symbol of the universal conflict.
And while, on one hand, there is his awareness of the intellectual war of all
against all for a single conception of truth, which seems to demand of him a
4reductio in unitatem ’, on the other hand there is his own critical conscience,
informed by the principle of toleration, which urges him to acknowledge as
valid all individual points from which the truth is viewed. Yet how can the one,
single and undivided truth be also manysided ? In his Paris letter to the physicist
Edmond Mariotte he anticipates the answer which he will give in the Mona-
dology with these words: 4Et premièrement je ne blâmerais pas ceux qui entre
prennent des recherches que je ne voudrais point faire, pourvu que ce qu'ils disent
soy vray ou au moins vraysemblable. Les desseins des hommes sont différens, mais
la vérité est uniforme et tous ceux qui la cherchent en quelque matière que ce soit
s'entraident en effect.’ Here then 4correspondence 5 is defined as a new belief
in the (perhaps merely hypothetical) co-operation of all branches of knowledge.
It is a first formulation of a teleology of knowledge, of a faith in the exact mode
of thinking. This faith in the possibility of a manysided representation of the
single truth is in fine with his plans for the founding of the Academy. Leibnitz
continues his letter, 4Les Géomètres ordinairement méprisent la métaphysique,
un physicien se mocque de l'un et de l'autre et un homme qui est dans les affaires
a pitié de tous ces Messieurs-là. . . ,’289
But it is Leibnitz’s innermost conviction that only a spirit of responsibility
and commitment can secure the kind of co-operation between all the members
of the learned world that he envisages for the future : 4Nobody is less of a
censor than myself’, he writes (1696) in a letter to Placcius. 4It sounds curious:
I approve of most of the books I read. . . I know very well from how many
different points of view the world can be seen; and thus when I read, usually
something occurs to me that excuses the author, or defends him. . . .’29°. This
is once again a restatement of the maxim that 4nothing should be despised
th a t4we should always seek out the best in man ’, and that 4in all writings we
should unearth [eruere] what is valuable in them rather than waste our time in
useless criticism \ 291 This search for what is valuable will in due course be
given the status of a definite working method, based upon a specific metaphysical
solution of the problem of truth. We have here a first indication of that ethos
of learning and scientific enquiry which, in Leibnitz’s later works, will lead to a
new evaluation of human activities. In the distinction between the vérité de
fait and the vérité de raison ; in the structural continuity of both these realms ;
and hence in their harmonious dovetailing as an 4accord réglé par avance '—in
all this Leibnitz spontaneously discerns a solution to the problem of truth. The
world of sense experience, of accidental and arbitrary vérités de fa it, is not to
be excluded from this new 4manysided ’ order of being; the claims of sense
experience, voiced in every contemporary discussion on truth, can no longer
be disregarded. But now the task of philosophy is to penetrate from this world
of sense experience into the world of necessary vérités de raison. Modern man
is no longer contented with knowing that a thing is—with knowledge a posteriori
—but he now desires to know how a thing is what it is—to have knowledge a
priori. By rationally analysing the complex concepts of the world of sense
experience—the voices of the contemporary conversation—man aims at reduc
ing experience to the simplest axiomatic concepts and to the most elementary
relations. And having achieved this, he then begins, by means of an artifice—
the Ars Combinatoria—to create new, more complex ‘ world formulae ’ or
1world concepts ’, which are once again total notional images of the world.
(The kind of ‘ world concepts ’ Leibnitz knew were Galileo’s gravitational and
Kepler’s planetary laws.) These new concepts, though complex, are so ‘ clear
and distinct ’, and so easily negotiable, that they can be used for the purpose of
elucidating all that is contingent and arbitrary in the world. As the given world
of sense experience is infinitely complex, finite man cannot hope ever to con
clude his analysis; he cannot, that is, perceive ‘ facts’ as something entirely
necessary. But there is no doubt that a full analysis is ideally possible, that God
is capable of it, and that there are no fundamental obstacles in man’s progress
towards it. We notice here a certain change in Leibnitz’s religious views: as a
Lutheran he accepts the absolute separation of God and man; yet as a mathe
matician he sees both moving along asymptotic courses. In so far as man thinks
in an a priori fashion, he thinks in the same sequences of ideas as God; in other
words, he expresses God. And we reach the dangerous point where mathesis
universalis suddenly turns into mathesis divina; where divine reflection is ‘ com
prehended ’ as infinitely heightened human reflection ; and where theocentric
reflection merges with anthropocentric reflection. Mathematical thought con
sists in the deducing of concrete constructions from their principles, and just so
does the thought of God. Thus in the idea of Caesar He sees a priori under what
circumstances Caesar will cross the Rubicon;292 for in His capacity of ‘ En
gineer of the World Machine ’ God creates individual substances according to
a mathematical plan. As the points of a curve however complex are given
necessarily by its functional laws, so all the apparently accidental and complex
changes in the activities of a monad or individual substance must follow from
its concept. As mathematical thinking in functions is governed by the law of
continuity (i.e. by an uninterrupted process of co-ordinating different magni
tudes and of scaling continuous variables), so the creative reflection of God
consists in continuously passing through an infinity of interlocking possibilities
by unbroken transitions from one form to another.
In this manner the ‘ saltus ’ between sense experience and knowledge appears
finally to be disposed of, and the ‘ liberating truth ’ of this mathematical and
scientific age to be secured once and for all. Yet apart from the law of con
tradiction (which distinguishes between the vérités de raison and the vérités de
fait), the law of sufficient reason remains to be accounted for. And it is signi
ficant for Leibnitz’s way of thinking that he maintains this distinction (between
the principle of contradiction and the principle of sufficient reason) also in
respect of God, thereby safeguarding the idea of His omnipotence; the working
of His will is to remain inscrutable to human reason. For it is by a free choice
that God must decide which monads, and which of the continuous and infinite
series of possible worlds, shall exist. At this crucial point Leibnitz’s scientific
views are seen to conflict with his religious views. As a religious man he wishes
to retain his faith in God’s free choice, that is, in a choice which transcends all
human knowledge (and which, consequently, is not bound by the law of con
tradiction). As an enlightened mathematician, on the other hand, he must
needs assume that this divine choice is not arbitrary but ‘ wise ’, i.e. that its
reason can be deduced from the nature of what is chosen. The principle of
sufficient reason is now interpreted in mathematical terms, and divine reflection
itself becomes mathematical. Accordingly, as 4Engineer of the mechanical
world-system ’ God chooses the 4 best possible world ’, that is, the most perfect
world 4in which as it were the greatest effect is achieved with the smallest effort ’.
But God does not work with 4absolute ’ mathematics; instead, he conducts a
kind of probability calculus. And we conclude that while the moral or 1hypo
thetical ’ necessity for the course of the world to be what it is remains deter
mined by His free choice, the probability calculus imparts to that necessity the
rational grounds of a moral obligation.
In this account of the metaphysical and theological consequences of Leib
nitz’s contribution to the contemporary controversy on truth we have also had
occasion to trace the close connection between speculation and commitment,
his two kinds of reflection. The countless drafts for a Scientia Generalis (the
work was to have been published under the significant pseudonym 4 Guilelmus
Pacidius ’) bear witness to Leibnitz’s quick awareness of how dubious were the
ethical, intellectual and scientific implications of his metaphysical answer. His
system of all the sciences—an ‘ Encyclopaedia of all Systems ’ of the kind en
visaged later by Fichte and Hegel—4will not overthrow the old edifice of the
sciences, nor erect an entirely new work in its stead ’, he writes; 4on the con
trary, it will bring together the work of all ages and peoples and store it in a
single public treasure \ 293 The systematic pursuit of this task was beyond his
powers; instead, the task was handed on to an institution—the Academy—
the idea of which issues directly from the Scientia Generalis.
The ethos which informs the idea of co-operation between all men of learning
is founded in an entirely new conception and evaluation of individual man.
For now a double process is seen at work: on one hand individual man is
receiving the sort of education that will enable him to expand and to identify
himself with the universal, while on the other hand all he stands for is to be con
centrated in the indivisible unity of a heightened self-consciousness. This double
process, Leibnitz writes, 4leads us to recognize a great variety of talents and
aspirations. Such variety assures us that nothing shall be neglected and that
science will be advanced in many different ways.’294 As far as they are related
to the Scientia Generalis, all individual points of view are legitimate; all are, as
Leibnitz says of Cartesianism, 4forecourts of. T ru th ’. We are reminded of
Descartes’s own maxim, 4Les desseins des hommes sont différens, mais la Vérité
est uniforme ’. This 4 one Truth ’ lies in individual substance. For only there
does reflection endow the Self with being.
The questions we must now attempt to answer are these: What is meant
by 4 the true being of the Self’? How does Leibnitz come to enquire into this
being? and, How does he express it?
CHAPTER IV
THE IMAGE OF INDIVIDUAL SUBSTANCE

1
Leibnitz’s unique personality stands amidst a multitude of disparate cor
respondences and contradictions. In the centre of a vortex of controversial
issues this personality asserts itself as an integrated intellectual unit.295 The
Self as a 4 substantial form ’ is challenged by the many-sided and amorphous
4 matter ’ of the contemporary controversy. This assertion of the Self is a
4 sufficient reason ’ for the construction of a 4system ’ in which the activity
of correspondence appears as universal harmony, and the activity of commit
ment as an intellectual and spiritual entelechy. And this 4system ’ becomes
concrete reality in the learned Society on one hand, and in the social and
religious attitude of enlightened man on the other. Within this systematic
order, 4the world ’ now becomes an object of consciousness. 4 On the highest
level of the acts of reflection ’ the essence of this world is manifest as 4individual
substance \ 296 In other words, the 4chief objects of our contemplation ’ contain
something that cannot be apprehended from extended objects in terms of Car
tesian mechanics, but from the subjective experience of exertion and of the will.
Just as natural events can only be explained by a theory of dynamics, so the
self-subsistence of physical objects 4contains something that is related to souls ’.
But whatever is related to the soul acts in accordance with final causes, which
Aristotle had called 4substantial forms ’, 4entelechies ’, and had distinguished
from mere 4 matter ’, üXyj, which only serves final causes. To Leibnitz these
forms are manifestations of his being-as-a-person [personales Sein], which asserts
itself as an intellectual unit or individual substance against the 4labyrinth * or
4 abyss ’ of time; and it is as a reflective unit that this being is conscious of
itself. Yet in so far as this being-as-a-person is a reflective unit, it is the out
come of reflective exertion, of an absolute will to inform the material of sense
experience; this is analogous to the absolute sovereign’s exertion in his rule over
his subjects. The reflective will of the individual endows 4the world ’ with its
specific being; 4 ceux qui ne prennent pas garde à cela ne sortiront jamais du
labyrinthe de compositione continui, s'ils y entrent une fois \ 297
In what manner does Leibnitz experience this being-as-a-person? What
kind of a Self does he encounter in the chaotic controversy of his age? How
does he define this Self? At first it is only incidentally—in letters and autobio
graphical sketches298—that he gives accounts of himself, but soon these enquiries
come to be conducted systematically; they come to be based upon a definite
metaphysic; and they create their own language. But before entering upon
these issues we must attempt to describe the experience upon which the postu
late of an 4individual substance ’ is based. What causes Leibnitz to place the
absolute informing will in the very centre of his cosmology? And what causes
him to claim for this will the kind of intellectual sovereignty that his age claims
for its rulers in the realm of politics?
Already at school the problem of individuation appeared to him 4 wonder
fully mysterious’; and it has rightly been pointed out that the first work of
116
T H E IM A G E O F IN D IV ID U A L SU B STA N C E 117
Leibnitz’s which we possess, the Demonstratio metaphysica de Principio Indi-
vidui (May 1663), treats of that problem within a scholastic framework. This
essay culminates in the proposition, 4 Omne individuum sua tota entitate indi-
viduatur ’. This important insight, which Leibnitz derived from the nominalist
tradition, and to which he adhered throughout, represented to him not merely
an aperçu of formal logic, but an ontological proposition. For it can be re
stated by saying that reality consists of individual substances, or that reality
is essentially and always individual reality. In the Discours de Métaphysique of
1686 this view was explicitly restated: individual substance is a being (4un estre
complet ’) in whose nature is contained everything (4ce que les Philosophes
appellent in-esse ’), and from whose nature follows everything that this being
can possibly encounter in the course of its life; this being, in other words,
carries its own fate and the law of its development within itself.299 In spite of
Leibnitz’s strictly logical formulation300, we must not forget that this problem
of 4com-plicatio ’ and 4ex-plicatio ’ was for him primarily an ontological prob
lem.
Leibnitz’s statement is strictly consequent upon the Cartesian doctrine of
autonomous self-consciousness. Descartes had taken the reflective Self out of
the world of creation, had isolated it and thrown it back upon itself in a manner
for which there was no precedent in the philosophies of the past. And now
Leibnitz, by reducing the whole world to individual substances— reductio in
unitatem—turned the Cartesian isolation into a state of universal fission. At
this point the very unity and coherence of the world becomes dubious; Leib
nitz’s awareness of this is implied even in the way he formulates his metaphysical
reflections. Thus he writes to Arnauld:
On ne trouvera jamais rien de réglé pour faire une substance véritable de plusieurs
estres par aggregation, par exemple si les parties qui conspirent à un même dessein sont
plus propres à composer une véritable substance que celles qui se touchent, tous les officiers
de la compagnie des Indes de Hollande feront une substance réelle, bien mieux qu’un tas
de pierres; mais le dessein commun, qu’est il autre chose qu’une ressemblance, ou bien
un ordre d’actions et passions que nostre esprit remarque dans des choses différentes?301
The traditional meaning of being—of natural as well as of human being—

had always implied a state of 4being-together Thus the being of man had
essentially consisted in whatever one man had in common with another; as
against this, all that was single the past had regarded as accidental and inessen
tial. For Leibnitz, on the other hand, the being of man implies first and fore
most being this man, or this soul, or this Self.302 On the highest level of its
reflective acts the res cogitans encounters not extensio, but the Self in all its
simpleness; it encounters the Self 4as a non-physical substance, nay as God
Flimself \ 303 The Self has a legitimate claim to its autonomous existence: 4Thus
every individual substance or every complete being is for itself, and is dependent
upon nothing save God \ 304
Yet to be self-subsistent is no less problematic a state than to be dependent
upon God. Leibnitz fully shares the religious enthusiast’s emphasis (taken over
from the teaching of the Reformation) upon the immediacy and directness of
man’s contact with God. It is this immediacy which endows the individual
with absolute value; and we have already remarked on the consequences of
this evaluation. But this immediacy is also manifest in the 4holy zeal ’ with
which the doctrine of tolerance was now propagated. And yet, the necessary
harmony of self-subsistent substances was missing not only in the common
wealth of scholars and politicians, but also in the Church; thus Bossuçt writes
of the 4Révolte du sens individuel contre VEglise \ As for Leibnitz, he was
indefatigable in his attempts to confine within rational bounds that absolute
individualism whose metaphysical grounds he himself was establishing. All his
plans—for the Academy, for political alliances and for clerical reunion—reveal
the logical and ontological conflict between the 4reality ’ of monads and the
4truth ’ of harmony. And it is just this indefatigableness, this endless activity
in the service of an 4accord réglé par avance \ which specifically characterizes
individual substance. His metaphysics is the crystallization of his own experience
as a. tireless politician, diplomat and organizer; of his own vitality, which was
constantly threatened by the world around him; and of his inability to find
happiness in anything but endless and restless work.305 For it is not timeless
and inert being which, in his metaphysics, constitutes the essence of all sub
stances, but purposeful activity in time. And it is significant of his way of think
ing that, even when attempting to formulate the concept of substance in mathe
matical terms, Leibnitz turned, not (like Spinoza) to the rigid figures of Eucli
dean geometry, but to the continuous sequence of members of an infinite series.
It is inexhaustible and infinite activity which characterizes intellectual being,
and in the light of which even the smallest particles of the world are regarded
as 4creative mirrors of the Universe \ 306
All activity is to him an expression of force; only that is real which is active.
And this is also true of matter, which is 4presented ’ to him in so chaotic a state.
The real is not passive or extended matter, but live and active force: 4. . . Agere
est character substantiarum, extensioque nil aliud, quam iam praesuppositae
nitentis, renitentisque, id est resistentis substantiae continuationem, sive diffusionem,
dicit; tantum abest, ut ipsammet substantiam facere possit.'301 [‘ Activity is the
characteristic of substances; extension, on the other hand, is nothing but a
continuation or diffusion of a substance already presupposed, which thrives,
withstands, that is, resists, and can therefore never of itself constitute substance.’]
Only energy, which informs 4resisting ’ substance, is real.
Here Leibnitz appears before us as the founder of a dynamic philosophy; and
there is no doubt that his conception of force corresponds to the modern con
cept of potential energy. A doctrine of dynamic individualism provides the
only adequate account of his ontological position; in a letter to Princess Louise
of Hohenzollern (November 1705) he restates it in these words:
La tranquillité est un degré pour avancer vers la stupidité. . . . Il faut toujours trouver
quelque chose à faire, penser, projeter, s’intéresser, pour le public et pour le particulier,
mais cela d’une manière qui nous réjouisse, si nos souhaits sont accomplis et ne nous
chagrine point en cas qu’ils manquent.’
Or again, in his early political pamphlet Securitas Publica :

The human mind cannot rest; to be motionless, that is without movement towards
further perception, is torment to the mind. Whoever were to know all would be robbed
of the delight of discovery, and whoever were to have all, of the delight of gain. Hence
creatures, being finite, do not possess all happiness at once, but they can at all times
advance [towards it] without hindrance. Just so Alexander the Great is troubled lest his
father should conquer the whole world and leave nothing for him to conquer.308
This description of 4dynamic happiness ’ has much in common with a leading

passage in the Monadology,309 written forty-five years later; in both instances it
is the same intellect concerned with the same problems of its existence.
Leibnitz is often called the founder of modern dynamics,310 yet it is not
realized that his doctrine of the 4 true measurement of forces ’ is a self-conscious
and intimate account of his own being; for it is in his being that his great eager
ness for activity arises. To start with, there was his choice of the legal profession;
in spite of strong philosophical and mathematical leanings he yet became a
lawyer, because exact and critical reflection failed to satisfy him except when
applied to a concrete situation, and because the study of jurisprudence seemed to
him most directly in touch with the 4 vita activa \ A desire for 4deed and reality ’
induced him to leave the academic circle of Altdorf; and his awareness of
responsibility, his commitment to 4the cause of the common good ’, which led
him 4to seek the glory of God as a homo politicus ’3U—these one.may call almost
religious in intensity. To him politicians are men 4who attempt not only to
find a reflexion of God’s splendour in nature, but also to imitate Him; and thus
to honour Him not only with praise and contemplation, or words and thoughts,
but no less with good works; nor do they merely observe His good deeds, but
they also offer, present and sacrifice themselves to Him as His instruments.
And in this way more good is done for the common cause, especially of the
human race, as also for the good of all those visible creatures upon whom we
can act by exerting our own power.’312
After the deaths of his patron Christian von Boineburg and of the Elector
of Mainz (in February 1673) all his political connections had suddenly gone.
Yet to retire to his scientific and mathematical studies seemed to him an undig
nified escape from the tasks he saw ahead of him, and he looked round for a
new, a political field of activity. At that time he was drawn into the orbit of Duke
John Frederick of Hanover. His position in life, he explained, is that of a 4rec
tor rerum publicarum ’, for only in this position was he able to integrate the
Self with the world, 4to think practice ’. Such 4rectores rerum publicarum ’ he
describes as follows:
They are those who in their own spheres attempt to imitate what God has done in
the world, and who apply as best they can the discovered wonders of nature and art to
all these great tasks: to medicine, mechanics, to the comforts of life; to finding work and
food for the poor; to saving the people from vices and sloth; to the dispensation of justice,
of rewards and punishments; to the maintenance of the common peace; to the prosperity
and advancement of our fatherland; to the extermination of plagues and wars and times
of dearth in so far as is in our power and in so far as we are guilty of having caused
them; to the propagation of the true religion and fear of God—in brief to the greater
happiness of the human race.313
Thus behind all this busy activity of the 4rector rerum publicarum ’ there
lies Leibnitz’s unshaken faith in the supreme goodness of God. 4 Dieu nous a
mis dans le monde pour agir suivant sa volonté, et non pas pour lui faire des har
angues et des compliments ’, he writes somewhat later.314 The sentence expresses
that tense Protestant ethos of activity which Leibnitz’s Catholic environment
(and, incidentally, subsequent ages too315) viewed with suspicion. Leibnitz’s
unremitting activity, his 4divine restlessness ’, the dynamic nature of his method
of work—all these are aspects of German mysticism; they are formulated by
Meister Eckhart in his saying, 4To be active is a breaking-out of divine inward
ness into effectiveness ’ (‘ Tätigsein ist ein Ausbrechen der Gottinnigkeit in die
Wirksamkeit ’).
This 4inwardness’’ (no less than the 4breaking o u t’) is necessarily linked
with a man’s intellectual entity, and Leibnitz never tired of restating this con
nection: 4 It is well ’, he writes,4to accustom ourselves to collecting our thoughts
from time to time, and to raising ourselves above the present tumult of im
pressions; we should make it our habit to go forth . . . from whatever place we
happen to be in, saying to ourselves, Dic cur hic? respice finem! where are we
then? let us come to the purpose, let us join the issue!’316 These words Leibnitz
wrote at the end of his life; in them he voiced the fear of losing himself in a
welter of endless activities. It is as if 4political appetite ’ were threatening to
destroy the spirit of inwardness no less than the privacy and unity of a man.
And Leibnitz’s many anxious attempts at rising above the welter of activities,
at focusing the spirituality of the individual, are made not only with a view to
the end of life (‘ quod me securum redderet de futura ’), but also in order to
assert his characteristic traits in a turmoil of courtly ambitions and interests.
To give an account of the Self is also to give an account of all the things of the
external world. For the uomo singulare of the seventeenth century aims at being
not only a worldly dilettante, but above all an expert in all things.317
This synthesis of inwardness and active participation in the world Leibnitz
considered to be the necessary qualification of a counsellor of princes. He was
for ever clamouring for the creation of just such an office: 6 Men would very
often need someone officially appointed (the kind of counsellor that Philip,
the father of Alexander the Great, had) to interrupt them and call them to their
duty. But in default of such a counsellor it is well for us to get used to rendering
ourselves this service’.318
His requests to be given such an office were in vain. The Dukes of Hanover
did use him as a sort of walking encyclopaedia, never as a responsible counsellor.
The new consciousness disposed of the need for such an office of a second
conscience. For in the 4tumult of impressions ’ each man falls back upon him
self; and which of the German Princes would listen to the advice of such a
counsellor? Leibnitz too was driven back upon himself. In his increasing
isolation he was left with the task of expressing the essence of his own individua
lity in the most general terms.
2
In the introductory theses of the Monadology (1714) Leibnitz systematically
explained to the Platonist Nicolas Rémond the being of individual substances.
This 4système \ as Leibnitz calls it there, was written at the same time as the
Principes de la Nature et de la Grace, fondés en Raison, in which the Monadology
is explained in somewhat looser terms to the Prince Eugene of Savoy. In the
Monadology319 the essence of individuality is deductively inferred from the
concept of the monad. The question that is asked here is not, How to arrive at
the concept of the monad? but, What are its properties? This distinction is
significant for the occasion of Leibnitz’s philosophical reflection: the monad,
we have seen, is nothing but a 4représentation ’ (in both senses of the French
word) of Leibnitz’s personality in metaphysical symbols; and there was, under
contemporary circumstances, no need to 4introduce ’ this concept apart from
4propounding ’ it. The reality of which this term is a symbol was entirely
familiar both to the courtiers and to the learned men of the time. It is the inner
being and secret of its spiritual and intellectual forces that fascinated the aristo
cracy of Vienna, or Queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia; not the existence of the
monad was now at issue, but its essence. And Leibnitz’s aim was to satisfy
the interest (or is it mere curiosity?) which the court took in the world of the
savants. He was drawing a metaphysical self-portrait, in which all contemporary
questions were reflected. And in tracing out the lines of his specific individuality
he was also delineating the present and future European self-consciousness;
in this portrait the princes and kings, the men of learning and the educated
classes of his age were to recognize themselves.
Let us now look more closely at this autobiographical and metaphysical
work of art, of which Valéry says, 4Peut-être le philosophe pense-t-il qu'une
monadologie est chose plus sérieuse qu'une suite en ré mineur ? . . . Mais rien ne
prouve que ces questions ne soient pas naïves? The structure of his individuality
Leibnitz sees in its simplicity (§§ 1-6), singleness (§ 7), and uniqueness (§§ 8 and 9).
In other words : he experiences his Self as a simple, indivisible being-as-a-person ;
in so far as the Self can neither be identified with, nor is even similar to, any
thing outside itself, it is unique (and this term connotes a positive judgment of
value); and in so far as it is self-sufficient, subsisting in a 4windowless ’32°
autonomy, the Self is single or solitary.
In the Discours of 1686 Leibnitz had already propounded the uniqueness of
individual substances: 4Toute substance individuelle exprime Vunivers tout
entier à sa manière.’ And he had already stressed its isolation: 4La substance
seule fa it tout son monde et se suffit avec Dieu?321 Everything finite is subject
to change (Monadology § 10); and thus change in time—in biographical terms,
the development of the lawyer into a politician and mathematician—becomes a
philosophical problem. It follows that 4 the simple ’ must be postulated in
plurality (§ 10); that 4the natural changes of a monad must issue from an in
ternal principle ’ (§ 11); and that individuality in its uniqueness (4for it cannot
be like others ’) must be linked, in its changes, to a stable principle of deter
mination (§ 12).
It was Pierre Bayle who in his Dictionnaire (in the article 4Rorarius ’ 322)
had first touched upon this problem ; and Leibnitz now arranged the three steps
in the argument in the following way :
(a) The plurality of the single is experienced in the reflective act, in the
connecting of ideas; for 4that is what we call perception \ In other words, the
indivisible unity of being-as-a-person is manifest in reflection (§ 16), for 4we find
that the least thought of which we are conscious involves a variety in the object
of thought. So everyone who acknowledges that the soul is a simple substance
must acknowledge this plurality within the monad?
(b) The windowless, self-sufficient individuality is moved in the manner of a
purposeful appetitus (§ 15); in other words, the essence of monadic autonomy
is 4intentional ’ or appetitive being. But the striving after something—appetition
—and the presenting of a thing to the mind’s eye—perception—are inseparably
linked with one another, for appetition is defined as the transition from one
perception to another. 4It is true says Leibnitz (§ 15), 4that the appetition
cannot always attain completely the whole of the perception towards which it
strives, yet it always attains something of it and thus arrives at new perceptions.’
In biographical terms this means that man has experience of himself as an
indivisible and self-enclosed personality only in so far as he engages in intellect
ual activity; or, in other words, that for Leibnitz 4 self-sufficiency’ is synony
mous with 4 self-reflection ’. To say 4 Ce qui n'agit point ne mérite point le nom de
substance ' is as much as to say, The distinction of being a 4personality ’ can
be granted only to him who engages in intellectual activity; it is in this sense
that we must understand the dictum (quoted above), 4tranquillity is always a
first step to dullness of wit ’.
(c) The uniqueness of this being-as-a-person is manifest to Leibnitz in the
story of its changes, in its history (§§ 22, 28). In other words, it is the inner
development of the soul—its story, seen as a chain of the soul’s perceptions
linked by the principle of memory—which determines whatever is specific and
unique in a man. In this way the Cartesian concept of self-consciousness is
given a new inwardness, which moves towards certain pre-conscious and un
conscious aspects of the mind. By distinguishing between perception and
apperception Leibnitz widens the 4inward space ’ of the soul into an infinite
world of inwardness. The character of this inward cosmos is determined in the
same way as the character of the physical and astronomical cosmos, by its specific
universality. The lucid and distinct consciousness of individual substances
appears thus as no more than a narrow beam of light above an abyss of dark
and chaotic perceptions of the soul’s memories.323 By means of this description
of the individual substance Leibnitz succeeds in establishing an unbroken link
between his own spiritual being and the 4soul of the world between individ
uality and universality. For perception belongs to all monads: to men, animals,
plants and apparently also to inanimate bodies. This he describes in detail in a
letter to Arnauld (September 1687):
Ceux qui conçoivent qu’il y a quasi une infinité de petits animaux dans la moindre
goutte d’eau, comme les expériences de M. Leeuwenhoek ont fait connoistre, et qui ne
trouvent pas étrange que la matière soit remplie par tout de substances animées, ne trou
veront pas étrange non plus, qu’il y ait quelque chose d’animé dans les cendres mêmes
et que le feu peut transformer un animal et le réduire en petit, au lieu de le détruire entière
ment. Ce qu’on peut dire d’une chenille ou vers à soye, se peut dire de cent ou de mille;
mais il ne s’ensuit pas que nous devrions voir renaistre des vers à soye de cendres.324
Leibnitz’s real aim in this controversy with Arnauld is to establish a proof

o f the indestructibleness of fife. The problem of immortality and the proof of
the existence of God remain at all times central to his view of Christian apolo
getics.325 But a proof of the indestructibleness of fife must be preceded by a
proof that fife is determined by the spirit. For the spirit is the indestructible
per se, it is the creative principle, alike the giver and ruler of fife. Life resides
wherever spirit resides; and spirit, even in its 4most minute quantities i.e. in
perceptions, is fife. But fife is 4historical ’ and distinct only where the spirit
becomes conscious of its Self; and where this happens, there the spirit informs
its Self and creates an order of being that is in harmony with the will of God.
* Self-conscious spirit ’ (Appercepiio), he writes on another occasion, 4is of a
higher order and possesses many more perfections than the forms which are
submerged in matter, and which (in my view) can be found anywhere.’326
The self-conscious spirits which determine the course of history (and which
Leibnitz considers also from theological and political points of view327) are the
4 enlightened intelligences ’ of the age, the 4esprits éclairés et bien intentionnés
While animal substance tends to 4express ’ the world rather than God, the
spirits tend to express God rather than the world.328 Compared with the merely
4perceptive ’ monads, the 4apperceptive monads are little gods made in the
image of the Godhead, bearing a reflexion of the divine light within them.
Therefore God rules over the spirits like a Prince over his subjects, cares for them
as a father cares for his children, while He disposes of the other substances as
an engineer does of his machines \ 329
Thus rational self-consciousness, by determining its own place between God
and the world, remains 4at the highest level of the reflective acts ’; but it also
remains 4à la hauteur ’, in touch with an age in which the divine right of kings
is used in order to provide sanction for the exercise of absolute power. There
is no fundamental difference between the 4deed and reality ’ of Louis XIV and
Leibnitz’s metaphysical achievement, which postulates the principle of an intel
lectual divine right and transfers it into the realm of philosophy.
Accordingly, the structure of modern cultured spirituality (expressed for the
first time in the Monadoîogy) is seen to consist in an intellectual exertion, the
degree and intensity of which determine the essence and value of the res cogitans.
Its degree of perfection is made entirely dependent on its apperceptive ability,
that is on its ability to become conscious of its Self and to elucidate methodically
its inwardness in just the same way as a physicist or astronomer elucidates the
external world. In as far as actual infinity is manifest in them, these two worlds
(the inward world of the soul and the external world) are symmetrical and show
the same type of spiritual and cosmic structure. The res cogitans exists in an
abyss between two infinities; and this abyss is explored and made familiar to
the self-conscious spirit, first by telescope and microscope, and then by the new
‘ rational science ’ of psychology. ‘ Through the grace of God ’, Leibnitz writes,
4we now possess excellent instruments for examining the secrets of nature,
and in these enquiries we can achieve more in a single year than our ancestors
achieved in ten or a hundred years.’330 The 4organum organorum ’, the ‘ vraye
logique ’ or 4ars inveniendi ’ seems now at last to be discovered; and by means
of it, he adds, 4 our intellect has been no less improved than our eyes have been
by means of the telescope \ 331 Yet this 4 vraye logique ’ is also a 4psycho-logique ’,
designed not only to increase man’s understanding of himself, but also to help
him to assert his Self and to find his bearings 4in the turmoil of the age ’.
4Thus activity is attributed to the monad in so far as it has distinct precep-
tions, and passivity in so far as it has confused perceptions.’332 The scale of
values governing this monadic ontology is determined by the intensity of spiritual
and intellectual activities, or by the clarity of self-knowledge.
Le mal est donc comme les ténèbres, et non seulement l’ignorance, mais encore l’erreur
et la malice consistent formellement dans une certaine espèce de privation.. . . Demeurer
dans un certain endroit, ou n’aller pas plus loin, ne se point aviser de quelque remarque,
ce sont des privations. . . ,333
For Leibnitz the task of his age consists in a gradual increasing of self-know
ledge; the struggle 4against darkness and vulgar prejudices ’ is everybody’s
concern.
The psychologically elucidated monadic individuality is informed by the
same rational spirit that informs the clerical and political institutions of the
age. The belief th a t4in regulating the whole, God had regard to each part, and
particularly to each monad ’334 has not yet been shaken. The divinely instituted
pre-established harmony is still at work in the world, and in so far as Church
and state are in accordance with 4divine providence . . . which . . . rules over
the whole ’, they too are a part of the harmony. But this belief stands and falls
with that concept which gives a new order and meaning to all being: the con
cept of representation.
3
It seems as though Leibnitz had deliberately left the meaning of this concept
ambiguous. Sometimes he uses representation in the sense of a mathematical
description; at other times he uses it psychologically, in the sense of a reflec
tion; sometimes it is a projected image, at other times it is the act of deputizing
for a person; or again, it is used for those metaphysical conceptions which the
&
mind is capable of viewing concretely. In most instances, however, all these
meanings are relevant: even where the context has unambiguously singled out
one meaning, the others remain present in the background. Representation is
the key-word of the Monadoiogy ; and precisely because it has this abundance
of legal, political, mathematical, theological and metaphysical undertones, this
word is profoundly significant for Leibnitz as a man and as a philosopher.
Within the bounds of his philosophy this is the magic word that works the
secret spell by means of which 4 the plurality of the individual is changed into
the unity of the universal \ 335 Representation occurs when the mathematical
mind is giving an account of itself; but it is also manifest in the political life
of the age. And thus it splendidly elucidates the coincidence (in minds well
attuned to the voice of the age) of consciousness and personal power. For
representation is also an act of the will. Wherever reality has ceased to be 4well
founded 5 there a will is at work, dissolving reality into appearance. Wherever
such propositions are propounded as, Everything that is is mere appearance of
the essential that ought to be; or, Manifold being is mere appearance of the one
Being which we perceive only approximately and in images—there philosophical
reflection expresses the uncertainty and problematic nature of a man’s relation
with his community and with the institutions of Church and State, and of the
savant’s attitude to history. Consequently a new co-ordinative schema comes to
be postulated, which takes the form of 4systems 9 and 4institutions ’ (such as
Leibnitz’s idea of a learned Society), all created 4ad maiorem Dei Gloriam
Thus far, then, representation is a conception designed to establish a certain
order among men, and as such it has a past in legal and philosophical doctrine.
Thus Nicholas of Cusa’s concepts of universality (his idea of Empire) and indi
viduality (represented, in his system, by the Barons of the Empire), themselves
part of a mediaeval philosophical tradition, are earlier examples of Leibnitz’s
way of thinking. Nicholas of Cusa, a Renaissance Cardinal, and Leibnitz, a
Baron of the Empire, have also this in common: their legal, political, philo
sophical and mathematical reflections are clearly linked with their theological
speculations ; and accordingly, in the work of both 4representation ’ comes to
mean the concrete and present 4realization ’ of metaphysics. Both are pre
cursors of German idealism; but this is not the place to discuss their affinities
in detail.336
As regards the political meaning of representation, it is demonstrated most
clearly in Louis XIV, who 4represents ’ (not as an individual personality, but
as a personage of state) the totality of political power. The state is held together
by nothing but the unity, single-mindedness and moral power of this represen
tative personage. Under Louis there is a multitude of ambassadors, ministers
and civil servants, who are all, according to their ranks and authority, 4repre
sentatives ’ of the state. The schema of this bureaucratic hierarchy is a nicely
calculated division of the total 4quantity of power ’. Between this rationalist
schema and the central monad there is a dangerous gulf; this gulf is manifest
in contemporary Cartesianism, where a severely mathematical system is topped
by a doctrine of an irrational freedom of the will, by the concept of arbitrariness.
Like the monarch, the will is responsible only to God. Yet events since the
Renaissance and the Reformation have cast some doubt on the divinity of the
King’s rights. More and more clearly the rationally determined order of repre
sentation was seen as an arbitrary, that is self-determining, arrangement of
powers, and the acute problem of personal responsibility became the very centre
of the absolutist (e.g. Hobbes’s) theory of state. Contemporary abuse of repre
sentation and his experience of the ruthless pursuit of self-interest caused Leib
nitz to look for a more satisfactory foundation of his central conception.
In the Monadology he speaks of a City of God, which is there equivalent to
4the moral world \ This City is a hierarchic realm of monads, the highest of
which—God—unites all the branches of government in one central point, thus
representing the whole realm; all the other monads, though lower in rank
and dignity, are 4viceroys ’ representing the ruler of this universal state. In
this reasonable cosmology there are no 4rebels or usurpers ’ ; but freedom is
merely a fiction. This moral order of representations is postulated as a political
precept : it is the politicians’ task first to understand this transcendent order of
being, and then to create concrete images or copies of it; and Leibnitz never
tired of recommending this pre-established plan to the Princes’ attention. In
the Monadology sovereignty and service are linked by mutual consent and un
derstanding. We cannot there speak of responsibility, because there is no free
dom. And thus the cardinal problem of the Theodicy, How can the freedom of
individual substances be reconciled with the omnipotence of a pre-established
harmony? remains unsolved.
Viewed in this manner, the Monadology appears as a 4speculum princi-
porum a transcendent political primer for future 4rectores rerum publicarum ’.
The practical world of European politics, however, was radically different from
the world described in the Monadology, and there was an urgent need to elucidate
the representative relation of precept and application. In this task Leibnitz
the politician gave way to Leibnitz the mathematician, to whom 4representation ’
meant 4liberating truth ’.
Leibnitz often points to a geometrical analogy which illustrates his pre
sentation of the universe from different points of view: it is, he says, as when
the same circle is projected from different points on to different planes and thus
produces a number of different conic sections. This analogy is based on the
mathematical theory (fully and clearly grasped by Leibnitz) known to-day as
logical isomorphy. According to this theory any proposition of formal mathe
matics can be translated into any other realm of mathematics as long as this other
realm is formally equivalent, even though it may be different in content. Leibnitz
recognizes the great value of both the formal and concrete aspects of this theory:
for while the former entails a clear working-out of its logical structure, the latter
enables him to give the theory a notation in concrete symbols,337 and thus to
apply it to certain realms of reality outside mathematics. His formal mathe
matical Scientia Generalis on one hand and the concrete and symbolical Charac-
teristica Universalis on the other are applications of these two aspects of the
isomorphic theory.
In the definite mathematics of human reflection there is an inseparable con
nection between structure and symbol; just so in the transfinite ideal world of
possibilities there is a desire for five realization, a striving towards being, to
wards representation by real monads. In politics the abstract unity of the state
exists only in combination with the manifold variety of personal representa
tions; just so 4rational nature ’ is dependent on a single universal law and on
an infinite number of individual lives. And this state of dependence of the
universal upon the individual is called representation. Only when political and
clerical representatives are enlightened on this problem is there hope that they
will not abuse the power they wield. Only then will they use their power to
apply the precept of 4rational being ’ in their intercourse with other men.
Reason is isomorphous with man’s consciousness of power, for the will to
power cannot be stronger than the will to reason. This proposition is the sum
total of Leibnitz’s account of himself and of the ‘ sinister torrents ’ of reality.
‘ God created the hero,’ he writes, ‘ and to the hero as the chief instrument for
the fulfilment of His Will He has given a greater measure of both reason and
power.’ This is the fundamental belief upon which his political, cultural and
clerical activities are based; in this faith his restless concern for the uneasy
balance of power and freedom is ensconced.
Yet in spite of this faith his whole life was disturbed by the ‘ unreasonable ’
assertions of absolute power. These assertions he portrayed in his Mars Chris-
tianissimus and in the figure of the Mohammedan Invasor rei publicae Chris
tianae. It will now be our task to examine the threat to the real and ideal4Em
pire and Leibnitz’s various plans to defend this world of his.
CHAPTER V
SEC U RITAS PUBLICA o r THE ALLIANCE OF

POWER A N D WISDOM
1
Leibnitz’s first experience of the conflict between subjective and objective
law came to him during his stay in Mainz. He was appointed second legal
councillor under Hermann Lasser, and with the influence of the former minister
Christian von Boineburg he entered the service of the Elector John Philip of
Schönborn. It was now his task to acquaint himself with the entangled legal and
political position of the Empire; the ‘ securitas publica interna et externa ’
seemed to him to be gravely threatened on all sides.
Together with Lasser he began work on a Corpus Iuris reconcinnatum.338
Countless sche'mes were devised to bring some order into the state of the law
of the country, to provide secure foundations for its principles and for the
constitution. The political controversy on this question which now took place
at Mainz was violent enough ; yet the young councillor—twenty-three years of
age—attempted straight away to intervene in the legal and political dispute
between the Imperial Chancellor (Reichserzkanzler), the Imperial Ambassador
at Ratisbon and the French negotiators at Mainz. He shared Christian von
Boineburg’s anxious concern for the future of the country; in this and other
respects he followed in the footsteps of his great patron who, although in dis
grace, never ceased to offer his services to the Elector. This common concern
was the basis of a long and intimate friendship between Boineburg and Leibnitz;
the memory of this ‘ theorici Empiricis felici connubio ’ Leibnitz cherished to the
end of his days. The great aim of this friendship was to bring about ‘ la liberté
de VEurope ’ ; and, although he was too reserved a writer to mention it, on the
experience of this friendship all of Leibnitz’s plans for an Academy are founded.
Baron Christian von Boineburg (1622-1672) was a typical baroque states
man. In politics he was a pupil of Axel Oxenstierna, the Swedish Embassador;
he studied at Helmstedt under the legal scholar Hermann Conring, and wrote
there a learned work on the Holy Roman Empire. In the service of the Elector
of Mainz he acted as mediator between Paris and Vienna, and, by birth a Pro
testant, was subsequently converted to Catholicism. Leibnitz was no doubt
much influenced by Boineburg (who was twenty-five years his senior), yet he
retained his independence and freedom of mind. Neither in his religious nor in
his philosophical views did he make any expedient concessions. The court at
Mainz was Catholic and pro-French, yet Leibnitz remained Protestant and
loyal to the Emperor. To give up his ‘ individual substance ’ would have meant
giving up his special position in the controversy of the age, breaking off the
conversation, and thus failing both parties. Consciously he strove to survey the
whole controversy, to retain his central position between Boineburg and the
Elector, between the Emperor and Louis XIV, between the Imperial Princes and
the court at Mainz. And his endeavour to retain this position was based upon
a fundamental conviction that specific differences of outlook should be preserved
127
and respected as such. This conviction he theorized as a young lawyer in his
Novus Methodus, with which he introduced himself to the Elector in 1669.339
2
This essay, based on his experience of the state of the law at Mainz, is a
first formulation of his ideas on natural law; and as such it is also a first formu
lation of the metaphysical ideas of law contained in the Monadology. In the
Novus Methodus Leibnitz postulates a legal system consisting of three stages:
4 strict law ’ (ius strictum et privatum), the 4law of equity 5 {aequitas, caritas, ius
societatis) and the 4law of piety ’ {pietas, probitas).
(a) The ius strictum, applicable in war and peace, is based on the maxim
4Neminem laedere ’, which denies justification to any aggression; its alternative
is the right to make war. This right is based upon a 4iustitia commutativa ’, a
system of mutually effective justice, which is Leibnitz’s fundamental legal concept
both in the Monadology and elsewhere. The 4strict law 9 issues from the will to
peace common to all men (which to Leibnitz seems not in doubt), 4nascitur ex
principio servandae pacis ’.
(b) Equity consists in the harmony of society. It contains the allegiance to
the 4strict law ’, and its maxim is 4 Suum cuique tribuere ’. Equity is based upon
a 4 iustitia distributiva ’, for it works on a principle of social contract, not on a
principle of individual isolation. Thus Leibnitz acknowledged here the claims
of the community to be superior to the claims of the individual; nevertheless,
it is the Prince who enacts equity.
(c) Thirdly, there is the will of the sovereign, of superior power. There are
two sovereigns. God is sovereign by nature; His Will is either ‘ n atu ral’—
hence arises piety—or 4arbitrary that is self-determining—hence the ten
commandments. Individual men can be sovereign by contract—hence arises
civil law. Here the influence of Leibnitz’s study of Hobbes may be observed,
and we shall see how somewhat later he changed his views on this matter and
came to attack Hobbes’s doctrine.
Yet throughout his life Leibnitz adhered to the view that human power
remains linked with, and dependent upon, divine omnipotence through the piety
of the sovereign. Whatever the 4effect and perfection ’ of 4strict law ’ and of
equity, both are dependent upon the sovereign’s piety. And thus Leibnitz’s
legal doctrine remains, in spite of his experience of contemporary reality, essen
tially part of a Christian ethic. This fact explains his fight against contemporary
atheists and his early connection with Spener and the Societas Pietatis. Leib
nitz’s faith (manifest both in this early work and in the later Theodicy) springs
from a conviction that the essential God-likeness of any creative monad must
not be violated, and that no monad may arrogate to itself more power than is
its due, for they all remain 4in God’s hen ’.
In his Wahre Theologia Mystica (written at the same time) Leibnitz says:
4In our own being there is contained infinity, a footprint or image of the omni
potence and omniscience of God ’. The rulers of this world too are charged with
government by the one Supreme Monarch. The maxim of the 4supremus iuris
gradus ’ is therefore 4 Honeste {id est pie) vivere ’. The 4 strict law ’ and equity
can enforce no real obligation. Only piety can limit the self-interest of the
individual substance, its greed; only piety can vouchsafe men the certainty
that all that is useful to the community is equally useful to the individual.
S E C U R I T A S P U B L IC A 129
The proven existence of God is a necessary foundation of Leibnitz’s con
cept of natural law; hence his passionate endeavours to establish such a proof.340
By being central to the argument of the Corpus iuris reconcinnatum, this proof is
also directly related to the social and political situation of the Empire. And
Leibnitz’s legal system remains fragmentary because the proof fails. As long
as this ‘ demonstratio catholica ’ remains uncompleted, there is no hope of
theorizing the problem of objective and subjective law. Leibnitz must therefore
postpone his theoretical legal work, and turn his attention to the 6philosophia
reformata ’.
Life in Mainz and Hanover gave him an alarming insight into the legal and
political situation of the time; legal chaos went hand in hand with the decline
in Christian piety which he had discerned in Paris. Modern science, he believed,
must be harmonized with the canon of Christianity; yet Hobbes seemed to
him to have aided the forces of disruption. The central experience of Leibnitz’s
life at Mainz was this, that the decline, the disruption of the state of law, must
be halted. And he became increasingly aware that this was not a local, or ex
clusively German problem, but of deep concern to all the countries of the Rhine
region.
3
The frontier dispute between East and West forced Leibnitz to take part in
theoretical and practical politics. He first arrived at Mainz in the autumn of
1668, just at the time when the Elector was abandoning the policy of the Rhenish
Confederation, which he had been pursuing since 1658. This policy was based
on the assumption (which the Elector shared with his minister Boineburg) that
the House of Hapsburg constituted a greater threat to ‘ the European Empire ’
and to the freedom of the Princes than would a treaty with France against
Austria. For years Louis XIV had been exploiting this situation. Taking the
law into his own hands he invaded the Spanish Netherlands. No sooner was he
ratified in the possession of a part of his conquest (by the treaty of Aix, 1668)
than contentions broke out with regard to the new frontier while it was being
occupied. Then, having forced the Imperial Prince, Duke of Lorraine, to disarm,
Louis drove him out of his own country (August 1670). Now John Philip at last
grasped the danger; he renounced his French connections and sought help in
Vienna. He failed to renew the Rhenish Confederation, which expired in 1670.
Most striking of all, he entered into contact with the exiled Duke of Lorraine
and with his friends. In 1664 Boineburg, ambitious to become Imperial Vice-
Chancellor, had been dropped by John Philip because of his connections with
Vienna; now he viewed the Elector’s new manœuvre with growing anxiety. His
diplomatic instinct told him that it was very unwise to flout France without being
at least equal to her in strength. He advised the continuation of the Rhenish
Confederation; but, having lost the confidence of his master, he had no influence
upon him. Yet when John Philip conceived the idea of a Triple Alliance of
Holland, England and Sweden against France, Boineburg, who considered this
step to be disastrous, felt that it must be prevented at all costs. And this was the
aim of the Memorandum on how to safeguard, in accordance with the present
circumstances, the Securitas publica interna et externa and the Status P raesens^
which Leibnitz wrote (upon Boineburg’s orders) in two parts in August and
November 1670.
The Triple Alliance (Leibnitz sought to prove in this memorandum) is a
frail reed, and woe to him who would lean upon it for support; he would
merely draw upon himself the wrath that is to fall on Holland. And this argu
ment Leibnitz linked with the idea of Imperial reform. He demanded an alliance
between the German Princes, for only such an alliance could, in his view, bring
security and power to the Empire. There was to be a common standing army,
a treasury, and a federal council; for 4the Imperial Diet at Ratisbon ’, he writes,
4is by now useless \ And he continues: ‘ Whatever is to be capable of enjoying
happiness and weal must have reason above all things; . . . and because the
Empire is to be looked upon as a persona (although civilis), it must above all
things be infused with reason, or with counsel \ 342 In this way the illusion of
an Imperial monarchy was to be superseded (secretly, to begin with) by a federal
state ; and Leibnitz was well aware of the difficulties of such a step :
It is especially to be regretted that many members of the Estates are fishing in troubled
waters, rejoicing over the disruption of the Empire, and avoiding proper justice and its
prompt execution like the plague; they love the present confusion, in which everyone is
free to create factions, to impede his opponent, to elude judgment and the law, to fasten
himself upon his friends, and to live irresponsibly in whatever manner he likes best. Com
mon people fear oppression, the mighty ones curtailment of their limitless power, for in
fact they recognize no sovereign.343
In spite of this hopeless situation the plan for 4a Union of the Estates ad com
mune bonum ’ must be propounded now, 4for we could not answer to posterity
for this shameful negligence \ It is therefore necessary to think of a way in which
4without the commotion of committees ’, that is without involving the Imperial
Diet, 4without changing the outer form of the Republic, sine strepitu ac pompay
consiliorum optimorum perditrice, it may be possible to reach, as it were by a
side-wind, obliquatis velis, that which one could never reach recte cursu in the
public Diet \ 344 What is advocated is a secret affiance. Leibnitz had no illusions
left about the contemporary state of affairs, and he attempted to explain to the
Elector th a t4things have never before reached such a pass; for truly, the corpus
imperii is held together by a silken thread, and we need take but a very small
step to break it completely’.345
Not only the Empire but 4the whole of Christendom ’ is at stake. The
general serves to elucidate the particular, and vice versa; and Leibnitz’s aim is
to present all the possible consequences of this disruption. Germany, he stresses
repeatedly, is a member of the Continental commonwealth:
Truly, whoever raises his mind a little and as it were surveys the condition of Europe
at one glance, will agree with me that this Alliance [of the German Estates] is one of the
most beneficent projects that have ever been advanced for the common good of Christen
dom. The 'Empire is the main member, Germany the centre, of Europe. Once upon a
time Germany was feared by all her neighbours. Consequent upon her present disunity,
however, France and Spain have become formidable, Holland and Sweden have expanded.
Germany is a ball tossed by those who play for the monarchy. Germany is the arena in
which the struggle for the mastery of Europe is fought out. In brief: Germany will not
cease to be the object of bloodshed (of her own men and of foreigners too) until she is
awakened, recollected, united, and until she has cut short the hopes of all the wooers who
are eager to win her.346
But Leibnitz is not contented with mere patriotism; in his conclusion he postul
ates a new aim for European politics:
Then the whole of Europe will reach a state of peace, will cease to ravage itself inter
nally, and will look to where so much honour, victory, advantage and wealth may be
gained in a manner pleasing to God. Another struggle will arise; no more will men
S E C U R I T A S P U B LIC A 131
wrestle for each other’s possessions, but they will strive to take away the utmost from the
arch-enemy, the Barbarian and Infidel; and thus they will enlarge not only their own but
Christ’s Empire.347
This is Leibnitz’s first mention of a crusade against the Turks, who at that
time were amassing their great forces at the Eastern gate of Christendom;
and this idea of a crusade was conceived within the sphere of ideas which his
universal correspondence was designed to explore. The international nature of
his politics corresponds to the concept of intellectual and spiritual universality;
and the art of combination is now to be practised on the largest scale. The
short memorandum on the election of a Polish King348 (commissioned by Boine-
burg in 1669) provides a good example of his method. Instead of the mediaeval
res publica Christiana we find here an enlightened plurality of autonomous
monads (representing individual states), and these monads the polyhistoris mind
integrates into an intellectual and political unit. For the Republic of Letters
too must be put upon a firm political foundation in order to be able to defend
itself against ‘ the Barbarian and the Infidel ’. Thus the ethos of learning sup
ports the political ethos. Leibnitz’s plan for a defence of Christendom was as
novel as it was erudite; and his diplomatic career in Paris was soon to be wrecked
on the high hopes he put in this subtle plan.
The dangers which threatened from East and West added to the gravity of
the German situation. Only a man like Leibnitz, who knew that a new con
ception of man, a Scientia Nova, was at stake, could fully discern and evaluate
the crisis. The political, spiritual and intellectual harmony is contained as Te\oç,
as an end, in the contemporary situation; ‘ and if I were capable he writes
in the Discours, ‘ of distinctly discerning the phenomena of the present moment,
I could discern in them all that will ever happen to me ’—for ‘ the present bears
the future in its womb
‘ Harmonia est diversitas identitate compensata.’349 The first task is to make
the political aspect of this maxim part of the common consciousness of all. In
the spirit of this maxim Leibnitz exhorted the German Princes to join in a
federation. According to contemporary musical theory, harmony consisted in
a regular contrapuntal progression, in which due regard was paid to the specific
character of each voice. And the same applies to Leibnitz’s political theory.
As long as Europe was threatened by the arch-enemy, no political progress was
possible. No ‘ unity in diversity ’ could be discerned in the contemporary
situation, but only a confused aggregate of disparate monads. Leibnitz did not
hesitate to use strong metaphors in describing the situation; he compared the
social aggregate to ‘ a herd of cattle ’, or to ‘ a pond full of fish \ 350 And as
long as there is no actual war, he continued, the statesman must endeavour to
change the pre-established possibilities ‘ which repose in this aggregate ’ into
motion and activity; he must, in other words, extract form from matter.
Day and night, as if working against time, Leibnitz matured his plan to
create a Society which would be equally competent to deal with learned and
political issues ; sometimes he was encouraged by Boineburg, more often he
was prompted by his own concern for the state of affairs around him. What
then was his success? What did the Elector of Mainz think of his work?
We know that he received Leibnitz’s memorandum of August 1670—written
at Schwalbach, in the course of three days—but it had no effect whatever upon
his policy. Leibnitz’s exhortations to create a secret federation went unheeded.
Negotiations with the Emperor concerning the triple alliance were continued;
when, finally, they were broken off, it was not because of Leibnitz’s counsel, but
5*
because of a refusal of England to continue the Triple Alliance under the new
circumstances. And when the Marienburg Alliance (September 1671) between
the Emperor and Mainz, Trier, Saxony and Münster was concluded, neither
Boineburg nor Leibnitz was in favour of it; for with their plan for a Reichsbund
they had hoped to avoid precisely the kind of Imperial supremacy this new
alliance was designed to foster.
In the meantime the danger in the West grew more and more threatening.
The state of French armaments in the autumn 1671 indicated clearly France’s
intention to strike at her neighbours as soon as the moment was auspicious.
But which of them would it be? Holland, or Burgundy, or the ‘ Empire ’ it
self? This was the question all Rhenish principalities—especially Mainz—were
asking. And Leibnitz, profoundly affected by his experience of absolute power,
remembered the atmosphere of panic and fear two years later, when, describing
a boat trip on the Rhine from Strasbourg to Mainz, he wrote :
The river with its quiet autumnal banks invited the weary traveller to a most charming
journey; from the banks the god of the vine beckoned hospitably. The very hills, it seemed,
skipped like lambs for the delight of the calm that lay on the entire scene, and the nymphs
of the Black Forest danced joyfully their airy dances. But just as the exuberance of animals
foretells the changes that are in the air, and the gambolling of dolphins the approaching
storm, just so Germany at that time seemed bent upon celebrating a peace that was soon
to be over; and the Rhine, king of all rivers, as if aware of the ordeal that was to come,
rejoiced in a freedom that was soon to be destroyed. For now [1673] that unhappy river
is hedged in by enormous armies, sullied by many a new ford, covered with colossal
fleets, brought under the yoke of bridges; and it is with sighs that he remembers his past
happiness.351
In these lines, written during his stay in Paris, Leibnitz was in a sense identi
fying himself with the river; 6with sighs 9 he too remembered the happy days of
Mainz, and with anxiety he looked into a sinister future. Again, in his Dialogus
de religione rustici, his melancholy picture of the lost peace was overshadowed
by dark forebodings. These anxious passages were written not by the detached
and calculating diplomat or lawyer, but by a man who felt himself involved in
and committed to the affairs of his own country, to its 4deed and reality ’. In
September 1671 he had already gained an insight into the 4constellation of
Europe’: from Abbé Gravel, the French Ambassador at Mainz, he knew that
Paris was hostile to the Principality; from his own agents he learned that the
Elector John Philip was already envisaging a fate similar to that of the exiled
Duke of Lorraine; and that John Philip’s great enemy, the Count Palatine
Charles Louis (whose daughter was married to a brother of Louis XIV), was full
of dark threats. Feeling that he was in the very centre of the political contro
versy, 4in which all the present world-movements converge ’, he drew up a
plan for a just European settlement, the famous Consilium Aegyptiacum.
This plan, its origin and development, shows us Leibnitz’s philosophy at
work in the field of politics. His systematic philosophy was as yet submerged
in political activity. All those reflective elements which later would take the
form of a 4European synthesis ’ remained as yet scattered. Hence every aspect
of his philosophical consciousness—the future Scientia Generalis, his Academy,
the religious reunions, the Corpus iuris reconcinnatum, the philosophia reformata
—all these remained in the balance. All that was later to be securely founded
upon a system was as yet no more than a passionate aspiration. What we find
at this time are mere plans: Corpus iuris, Demonstratio Catholica, Securitas
publica, Memorandum on the Foundation o f a Society, Ars Combinatorial Hypo
thesis physica nova, and a few others. The philosophical qualities of these works
were overshadowed by the urgency of contemporary political events. The
political existence of Mainz was threatened; with it, the realization of Leibnitz’s
plans and his own freedom of intellectual development; ‘ la liberté de VEurope ’
was to him at all times a necessary condition for bringing to light the hidden
harmony. The present time seemed out of joint; and yet all time past, present
and future, he held, is perennially 6fitted into divine Nature ’. Leibnitz’s faith
in this fittingness was so strong that he staked everything upon it; the unknown
young lawyer, aged twenty-five, took it upon himself to work out a plan for the
use of the King of France, a plan which was to restore the European balance
of power and at the same time provide a defence against 4the Barbarians and
Infidels ’. The plan was based upon his metaphysical belief th a t4 Harmonia est
diversitas identitate compensata \
4
Leibnitz’s Consilium Aegyptiacum was inspired by the political circum
stances of Mainz. By the end of 1671 it was obvious that the French prepara
tions were directed against Holland. Even so, Mainz feared the disruption of
the 4 Imperial peace ’, entailing possibly the loss of its own freedom. Nor could
the principality be indifferent to the fate of its northern neighbour. The Elector
therefore endeavoured to prevent the war, or at least to localize it as far away
from the Empire as possible. And these were also Leibnitz’s aims. He took his
cue from recent events in the East (Montecuccoli’s defeat of the Turks and the
war of Candia), which filled Europe with a new crusading spirit.
Several times Louis XIY was asked to lead a crusade against the enemy of
Christendom.352 But Leibnitz did not count upon success in appealing to the
conscience of Europe; his plan was more sober and circumspect, and he was
well aware of what distinguished it from the countless enthusiastic proposals
made by others. In a letter to the Duke of Hanover (October 1671) he wrote:
It is obvious that these great armaments of France must at last be discharged: that
should they be discharged in Europe a long universal war would ensue, bringing piteous
ruin to many hundreds of thousands of men; and that therefore all Christians (not only
the Catholics) would wish them to be discharged against the arch-enemy in the East.
Yet all those who have counselled this have supported their case with theological rather
than political reasons; and they have done no more than to assert th a t this should be done;
several of these people have also calculated rather badly and hence are despised by know
ledgeable statesmen. This issue, therefore, upon which the Honour of God and the public
weal depend, is considered only in pulpits and not in cabinets. I, on the other hand,
through diligent reading and contemplation of the most authentic Voyages, have dis
covered a plan (not suggested,, as far as I know, by anyone else) which is so important that
I am bold enough to assert that, apart from the invention of the fabulous la p is p h ilo so
p h o ru m , nothing more important could be offered to such a potentate as the King of
France.353
Leibnitz’s secret plan (of which only Boineburg knew the gist) was to re-establish
the European balance of power by suggesting to Louis the conquest of Egypt.
In the autumn of 1671 he wrote of his wish to approach the King; in December
he set down a short outline of the plan, the Regi Christianissimo.354 In it he
justified his boldness by saying that most inventions, and most conquests in
foreign continents, had sprung from private initiative; thus he hoped to dispose
of the accusation of seeking personal advantage. He gave an historical survey of
all earlier expeditions against Egypt; then he discussed, in a favourable light, its
economic and geographical position, and pointed out how easy such a conquest
would be. He took great pains to show that, while France could gain but little
from making war on Holland, the complications ensuing from such a war
would be very grave. In Egypt, on the other hand, quick victory was certain.
Naval and commercial supremacy in the Mediterranean Sea; the honour and
title of a King of the East; and the office of arbiter between East and West,
would be the fruits of this enterprise.
This first sketch was merely provisional; its tone was teleological, and the
political deduction (like that of the later work) was based on some such principle
as that a small present evil should be borne for the sake of a great future good.
Regi Christianissimo was probably intended for perusal by the King himself.
But in the spring of 1672 it became obvious that it would never reach him, and
Eeibnitz suggested that the plan should be presented to the King during a
personal audience. In his Deliberatio an propositio Aegypticaz55 he asserted that
only by an immediate personal presentation of his plan could the war with
Holland be avoided; if this fails (he wrote) then the whole plan is useless.
Boineburg and he should immediately be dispatched to Paris; Herr von Heiss,
the Mainz agent there, was to prepare the ground for their secret mission. But
Boineburg, who believed himself to be distrusted by all, could not decide upon
making the journey. On whose behalf was he to go? What were his aims, his
credentials? His precarious position in Mainz would endanger the success of
the mission. Yet he was in entire agreement with the plan itself, for he had
constantly endeavoured to clear the way for an understanding between France
and the German Princes. Instead of going, Boineburg wrote on the 20th January
1672 to the King, enclosing a ‘ brief d ra ft’ which he recommended to the
King’s attention; its author, he wrote, would be ready to discuss the issue
personally.
This ‘ brief draft ’356 (in Leibnitz’s hand) contains an enumeration in twenty-
two points of the consequences o f 6a certain enterprise ’, which could be accom
plished with moderate forces in twelve months. It would ruin Dutch interests
and trade more effectively than any war; and France would at one stroke
dispose of all the hatred and suspicion which have been accumulating against
her everywhere in Europe.
After the letter had been dispatched the danger which it was meant to banish
came so close that even Leibnitz’s hopes waned. Boineburg sent a second letter
to the French Foreign Secretary Arnauld de Pomponne, enclosing a second
brief resumé by Leibnitz.357 In it the changed situation of European politics
was taken into account. There is no doubt, Leibnitz wrote, that the King will
win the Dutch campaign, and that the war will be a short one. The expedition,
on the other hand, offers a more lasting solution, and his plan should be pressed
at the very moment when the Dutch are accorded an equitable peace.
These two letters, although containing little more than mysterious hints and
suggestions, helped to open up the discussion. The court at Versailles was
interested. On 12th February 1672 Pomponne replied; the King, he wrote,
relied on the soundness of Boineburg’s advice, and would be glad either to
receive the author of the plan, or to get further details from him in some other
way.
In feverish haste Leibnitz now set to work on three drafts, which, owing to
the precipitous course of events, remained unfinished. In this race with the
approaching disaster the universal nature of Leibnitz’s demonstration of the
argument proved to be a grave impediment, for every new formulation of the
idea involved him in an unending number of new proofs.
To start with, his plan was to be given a quasi-anthropological foundation
in a Specimen Demonstrationis Politicae de eo quod Francis interest,358 a doctrine
of statecraft. A scholastic schema with countless distinctions and subdistinc
tions was established. As in the memorandum on the election of the Polish
King, so here too the interests of a state were deduced more geometrico. A
second draft, De eo quod Franciae interest,359 is even more fragmentary. The
beginning is lost; there follows a skeleton outline of the 4corpus propositionis ’,
and then a logical proof of the first proposition, 4that the Egyptian expedition
is supremely effective in securing the predominance and most important in
terests of France ’. What is to be ascertained is France’s interest in the expedi
tion, i.e. the end in which she conceives her happiness, the forces she can com
mand to attain to it, and the forces of her friends and foes. Her interest is
identical with the King’s, who is wise. And it is in a wise King’s interest to
increase his power by increasing the happiness of mankind. Here the manu
script ends. The demonstration is based upon Leibnitz’s idea of a representa
tional order obtaining between state and sovereign, power and wisdom; wisdom
is defined as 4the science of happiness The inner relation between the separate
concepts, it may be added, was later (in Hanover) worked out more systemati
cally; for Leibnitz never let go of a theme or demonstration he had once con
ceived of, and he never ceased to draw upon some of the ideas he had put down
in his early writings, in his Corpus iuris, the Physica Nova and the Ars Com-
binatoria.
A third essay bears the title Regis Christianissimi quid interest.36° The King’s
forces, Leibnitz writes, are the world’s greatest. Yet France cannot do whatever
she wants; she must avoid common hatred by a policy of justice, or, better still,
by a policy that keeps alive a faith in justice. No empire can withstand the
hatred of all men; and in a war of aggression it is the appearance of the justice
of one’s cause that must be preserved; but such a war is to be avoided at all
costs. No lasting advantage can be gained from sudden invasions. Holland
itself is a proof that a peaceful and trustworthy policy is beneficent to trade and
industry; and is it not true that financiers and merchants are more inclined to
do business with republics than with Kings and Princes? A King who was
about to destroy all republics would surely have found these disclosures sur
prising. But the draft never reached him, for it also proved too long to be
completed in time. At the end of February Leibnitz submitted to Boineburg a
new Deliberatio, in which he renewed his request that they should both go to
Paris. How could he, an unknown private person, succeed alone? In March
at the latest they must go, for only thus can the King’s new moves—his break
with Spain, his alliance with Portugal or England, and even his war with Hol
land—be forestalled. The Elector (Leibnitz adds) will suspect nothing, for he
knows nothing of their plans.
On the 4th March Boineburg replied to the French Foreign Secretary. He
announced Leibnitz’s visit, but of his own he said nothing; he probably suc
ceeded in persuading Leibnitz to go alone. Leibnitz now hastily composed the
final memorandum for the King, the Iusta Dissertatio,361 The version which he
wrote in Mainz before his departure remained again a fragment which he never
altered or completed. On the 18th Boineburg gave Leibnitz a written statement
of full powers and a letter of recommendation to Pomponne, in which he intro
duced Leibnitz as the man whom the King was to receive. On the 19th March
1672 Leibnitz left for Paris.
He arrived there at the end of the month, by which time England had declared
war on Holland. The French declaration was published on the 6th April, and
on the 28th the King, accompanied by Pomponne, left for the battle-front.
Leibnitz arrived too late. What he had feared in Mainz had now come to pass :
the European ‘ universal war * had broken out.
He did not even call upon the politicians to whom he had been recommended,
for they had other things to do than to see an obscure German lawyer of whom
they had never heard. The letters of introduction to them were found among
Leibnitz’s posthumous papers. In his letters to Boineburg he said little of his
great disappointment over the failure of their mission.362 But he was even more
deeply hurt by the cool reception he found among the learned men in Paris.
Carcavy’s information had been correct : nobody was interested in speculations
and demonstrations, all were eager to see ‘ realities \ The intellectual circles
of the town, in which he moved with much circumspection and cunning, received
him with suspicion. After a few visits he found it advisable to retire to his model
of a calculating machine, in order to be able to present himself at the forum
sapientiae with a ‘ real ’ invention. By the autumn he seems more or less to
have established himself. The learned discussions cast a powerful spell over
him, so that political problems lost their immediate urgency. Yet in spite of
this inner change his conscience remained sensitive to these problems, and it
was not until the early death of both his patrons that he finally gave up his idea
of an Egyptian expedition.
We have given this detailed account of the Consilium Aegyptiacum and of
its fate because the story illustrates the nature of Leibnitz’s philosophical com
mitment. This story is informed by a conflict between intellectual and political
forces; and it is as it were a symbol of a more fundamental conflict (upon the
resolution of which Leibnitz staked everything), which may be formulated thus :
How can temporal power be finked harmoniously, in a pre-established manner,
with timeless wisdom? Or: How can the just order of the world, which the
philosopher ‘ knows ’ to exist, gain power in this world ? Leibnitz’s aim was to
prove to the French King that only in the harnessing of absolute power to divine
wisdom (in the activity which he calls 1the science of happiness ’) lies the true
basis of the ‘ salus publica ’. As for Leibnitz himself, such a proof justified to
him the absolute power of an ‘ individual substance for right is, in his view,
the power which is natural to men who will, and rejoice in, the happiness of
all; this idea was systematically worked out in the introduction to his Codex
iuris gentium diplomaticus.363 It would be wrong to see in this deduction merely
a legalistic quibble; for the urge to give the law a necessary foundation in
reason was the upshot of his acute experience of the contemporary controversy.
But we must not conclude that as a result of his failure in Paris he con
demned modern absolutism. His views on this issue are expressed in detail in
his correspondence with the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse.364 Some of the Land
grave’s opinions were quite revolutionary, for he challenged the principle that
secular and spiritual power should be wielded by one and the same person. The
institution of hereditary and absolute monarchy appeared to him as the greatest
bane of Christendom, for (he writes) it is the cause of all evil customs, of all
suffering and wars; he preferred the admittedly imperfect republican constitu
tion of Venice.365 Leibnitz on the other hand was more moderate and circum
spect. Whatever working arrangements between the temporal and the spiritual
powers have been established by contract and tradition he wishes to see retained.
Hereditary monarchy appears to him on the whole preferable to democracy.
Its power should be neither curtailed, as in England, for then it cannot dis-
charge its duties, nor completely suspended, as in Denmark and Sweden. Its
sole obligation is a moral one; no subject has a right to revolt. In brief, Leib
nitz’s politics were essentially Lutheran; and he was opposed to the German
Reformed Church, and to men like Althusius. Thus he writes to the Land
grave:
Je croy que les peuples sont obligés d’obéir ou de souffrir, et qu’on ne peut rebeller
sans crime, ce qui paroist conforme à l’esprit du Christianisme, aussi bien qu’à la véri
table politique; Car ordinairement les rébellions sont plus dangereuses que le mauvais
gouvernement.366
And he continues by turning to the problem of the sovereign’s self-consciousness,

to the chances for democracy in an age of absolutism, and to the relation of
power and wisdom :
Quant à la conscience des Princes mêmes, on pourroit dire, que ce n’est pas le pouvoir,
mais le mauvais usage du pouvoir, qui est blâmable. . . . Il est vray, qu’un Prince pourroit
mettre bon ordre à l’éducation des Princes à venir, mais il n’y a pas lieu de se reposer là
dessus. De sorte, que je conclurois contre le pouvoir absolu, si de nos jours on avoit veu
des Tyrans semblables à ces monstres d’Empereurs que Rome a veu autres fois, mais
aujourd’huy il n’y a si méchant Prince, sous lequel il ne vaille mieux vivre que dans une
Démocratie. C’est pourquoy tout se réduit à la question assez agitée laquelle des formes
de gouvernement est la meilleure. Il seroit à souhaiter, que les plus puissants fussent
toujours les plus sages, ou que les plus sages fussent les plus puissants; Mais la sagesse
des hommes est fort limitée, souvent les plus grands esprits font les plus grandes fautes;
De plus la sagesse n’est pas toujours aisée à reconnaître, il y a des faux sages, comme
des faux braves.
Les peuples ont une vénération pour la haute naissance qu’ils n’accordent point à
la vertu. De sorte que je crois, que les Royaumes Electifs seraient fort sujets aux troubles,
et on l’a reconnu; . . . On voit aussy, qu’il n’est pas toujours bon, que les Princes ayent
les mains fort liées; Car cela les rend incapables de pourvoir assez promptement aux
besoins de l’Estat. Si le Roy d’Angleterre estoit aussi absolu dans son Royaume, que le
Roy de France l’est dans le sien, Je crois qu’il se seroit opposé de bonne heure aux progrès
de la France, et l’Europe ne seroit pas dans l’estât où elle se trouve. . . .
The last sentence shows that Leibnitz considered a uniform distribution of

absolute forces to be a necessary condition of a European balance of power.
An identical absolutist structure of all individual monads appeared to him as
an indispensable condition of the future order of Europe.
5
It should be noted that Leibnitz had by this time revised his earlier view that
law and justice are founded solely on the will or omnipotence of God. In his
notes (1670) on a treatise by Samuel Cocceji367 he refuted this argument by
substituting for.the absolute Will of God the conception of His wisdom and
goodness. Power alone can never be a secure foundation of law, for otherwise
one would have to come back ‘ ad principium Tyrannicum, quod apud Platonem
urget Thrasymachus iustum esse, quod potentiori placet \ 368 Thus Hobbes’s is a
doctrine of tyranny; and ‘ we have to seek for better and more sublime causes,
not so much in the Divine Will as rather in His intellect, not so much in His
Power as in His Wisdom. And justice will be established not so much by the
Will as by the Benevolence and Wisdom of the Omniscient. Hence a learned
jurist once described justice as Caritas sapientis, and Aristotle virtue as a mean
between extremes.’369 Leibnitz’s opposition to Hobbes, the theoretician par
excellence of baroque absolutism, is even more explicit in a later work, entitled
138 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E S E V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y R EV O LU TIO N
Méditations sur la notion commune de la justice™ in which he passionately
protests against the principle of stat pro ratione voluntas :
Un philosophe Angîois'célèbre, nommé Hobbes, . . . a voulu soûtenir presque la
même chose, que Thrasymaque: car il veut que Dieu est en droit de tout faire, parce
qu’il est tout puissant. C’est ne pas distinguer le droit et le fait. Car autre chose est
ce qui se peut, autre chose ce qui se doit. C’est ce même Hobbes, qui croit (et à peu prés
par la même raison) que la véritable religion est celle de l’Estat. . . . C’est dire en termes
couverts, qu’il n’y a point de véritable religion, et qu’elle n’est qu’une invention des hommes.
Comme de dire que juste est ce qui plaît au plus puissant n’est autre chose que de dire
qu’il n’y a point de justice certaine et déterminée et qui défende de faire ce qu’on veut
faire et peut faire impunément, quelque méchant qu’il soit. . .. C’est en effect changer la
nature des termes et parler un langage différent de celuy des autres hommes; jusqu’icy
on a entendu par la justice quelque chose de différent de ce que prévaut tpus jours. . . .
11 est vray que dans l’univers tout entier ou dans le Gouvernement du Monde il se trouve
heureusement que celuy qui est le plus puissant est juste en même temps . . . ; mais la
puissance n’est pas la raison formelle qui le rend juste. Autrement si la puissance estoit
la raison formelle de la justice, tous les puissans seroient justes, chacun à proportion de
sa puissance; ce q u i e s t co n tre V e x p é rie n c e .371
Thus Leibnitz set out to discover the attributes and the meaning of justice.
He believed that those who make their concept of justice depend upon power
arrive at this mistaken notion partly owing to their confusing justice with the
law. Justice cannot be unjust, but a law can. If the power that enforces a law
is lacking in wisdom and good will, it is bound to introduce and uphold bad
laws. Justice, on the other hand, aims at the summum bonum, and is the funda
mental harmony of wisdom and power. The summum bonum is defined in
accordance with the definition of individuality as 4whatever serves to perfect
those substances which are endowed with reason ’ ; in other words, the highest
good is whatever serves the fullest, that is the 4universal ’, development of the
individual res cogitans, and thus issues in unified being, in an expanding of its
best reflective and imaginative qualities. Hence 4 order, contentment, joy,
goodness and virtue are in their very being good, . . . but power becomes a
certain good only when it is at one with wisdom and goodness ,.872
The aim and the meaning of Leibnitz’s political writings as well as of his
monadological system was to bring about, within the myth of a mediaeval
spiritual order, this very state of unity. With this aim before him he yet never
lost touch with contemporary reality, in which 4power has ceased to be a certain
good \ Thus at a time when the Turks were closing in on Vienna he refused to
compromise with France. For him the Empire, although doomed, now stood
for Europe. A hundred years later Goethe expressed this dilemma in one of his
Xenien :
D e u tsc h la n d ? A b e r w o lie g t e s ? Ic h w eiss d a s L a n d n ic h t z u fin d e n .
W o d a s g e le h r te b e g in n t, h ö r t d a s p o litis c h e a uf.
[Germany? Where am I to find her?
Truly, her politics end where the realm of her learning begins.]
In the summer of 1683 this 4realm of learning ’—in which wisdom should be at
one with power—was in danger of internal and external collapse. From Leib
nitz’s correspondence (especially with the Landgrave of Hesse) it appears that
this danger was felt so acutely that even theological discussions and plans for
a happier future became unimportant:
Mais laissons l’avenir, puisque le danger où la Chrestienté se trouve par l’invasion
du Turc est assez grand pour occuper nos pensées. Dieu nous garde de la perte d’une
seule bataille. Les soldats Turcs ont des avantages sur les nostres, au lieu que du temps
de Geoffroy de Bouillon les guerriers d’Europe estoient sans contre dire plus robustes
et plus braves que ces Asiatiques. Ainsi s i v ir viru m le g e re t , s’il fallait combattre homme
à homme . . . je ne voudrois pas gager pour les nostres. . . .373
There followed anxious reflections on strategic problems, and Leibnitz grew

deeply concerned about the weakness and lack of discipline among ‘ the Euro
pean w arriors’. The Landgrave was more confident: ‘ Le Turc n'a que dix
huict mille Jannissaires de bonne Infantrie; . . . tout le reste n'est que de la canaille
et gens forcés, contre lesquels un seul bon fantassin ou Cavallier Allemand mut
dix ou douze But Leibnitz was full of doubt whether Vienna, the last bastion
in the East, would hold out:
Si Vienne tient bon quelques semaines les Turcs seront obligés de se retirer. . . •
Mais il est temps de faire des efforts extraordinaires et je croirois que tous ceux qui tiennent
des fiefs et arrière fiefs de l’Empire seroient obligés de faire leur devoir et pourraient
estre cités sous peine de félonie et de perte de leur dits fiefs. Les Chimères dont on a
revestü nostre droit public ont fait oublier l’Essence même des Choses. Si les Allemands
ont encore quelque reste de la vertu de leur ancestres, il faut que cette guerre ne se termine
que par une vengeance qui serve d’Example à la postérité.. . . On commençoit à s’endor
mir dans Ia bonace, mais les Turcs nous ont reveillés et la tempeste se redouble. . . .374
What is needed to avert a fully deserved fate is an extraordinary effort and a

renewed awareness of what is to be defended: the individual substance, in
political terms the nation and Christendom. In an earlier letter to the secretary
of the Imperial Embassy, Philipp Wilhelm von Hörnigk, Leibnitz had written:
There is now no doubt that Germany must break all ties with France if she wishes to
do what is best for the honour of the nation and for the common weal. But the manner
in which this war is conducted would have to be changed entirely. . . . I remember that
last year, shortly before the fall of Strasbourg, I sent a noble personage upon his request
a few fantasies, in which I concluded (among other things) that we would have to maintain
divers armies (the smallest of them to be twelve thousand strong) on the Rhine from
Switzerland to Holland; and that all these armies (except the Imperial) would have to
be under the free command of all those who are well-intentioned among the greatest
Princes of the Empire. Such armies would have to act together and help each other in
case of need. Faithful and diligent people from every part of Germany would have to
strive to banish the danger.373
He was envisaging a permanent Rhine army and a military alliance of all Princes,
‘ including the Electors of Bavaria and Brandenburg *The populated regions
on the Rhine [Rheinfelden, Strasbourg, Philippsburg, Mainz, Coblenz and
Cologne] must be saved from pillage by enforcing severe discipline among the
militia.’ The letter to Hörnigk continues:
But now that I have seen that the fall of Strasbourg has moved nobody; that the
news from Bavaria and Brandenburg is most disagreeable; that nobody considers re fo rm a
tio n e m discip lin a e m ilita r is , nor cares for proper establishment, magazines and other neces
saries; but that, on the contrary, officers are only anxious to filch good quarters; and that
this must needs bring 'about a most unhappy war and, when quarters have been ravaged
and impoverished, a scandalous peace—now I must confess that I would almost advise
an armistice and an interim agreement with France, but on the other hand I am in favour
of starting the war with the Turks at this very time; yet such a war would have to be
conducted very differently.
All these plans failed owing to the disunity and absolutist claims of the
German Princes. Profoundly disappointed, Leibnitz began in August 1683 to
write his political satire, the Mars Christianissimus, which he sent anonymously
to the Landgrave. In it a fictitious German admirer of Louis XIV—‘ un Gallo-
Grec '—claims that the Viceroy of God has no need to care for law and justice,
for he is, by virtue of his office, necessarily just. And does not St. Paul say that
the righteous man is a law unto himself? Louis’s ‘ guerres de magnificence ’
(the satire continues) have only ojie aim: to magnify the glory of God as the
sole defender of the Western Church. The circumstances of the Empire under
the French yoke are likely to be piteous; hence people will be all the more
ready to depart from this valley of the shadow of death for their ‘ true father-
land \ In this vein the bitter attack continues. But there is also a prophetic
ring in Leibnitz’s words ; for what will happen if all that is here written ironic
ally—with the intention of moving the inert minds of those ‘ qui commençaient
à s'endormir dans la bonace ’—one day becomes reality ?
As yet the Christian faith was securely established, and what Leibnitz was
attacking was Louis’s abuse of ‘ Christian wisdom But already Vessence même
des choses was seen to consist not only in an harmonious relation of power
and justice, but also in a pre-established order of power and faith, or State and
Church. Freed from the Christian tradition and political wisdom of the Sacrum
Imperium, the political will becomes self-determining and arbitrary; the ‘ Father o f
the People’ becomes a tyrant; the princely monad, inspired by arrogant self-
assertion and conceit, breaks out of the pre-established harmony of the divine
order; and behind the façade of the Christian State appears the Leviathan.
CHAPTER VI
CHRISTIAN FAITH A N D FAITH IN SCIENCE
1
Our discussion so far has revealed that Leibnitz’s reflection prepares the
philosophical ground for, and culminates in, the central problem of his philo
sophical commitment: the problem of the validity of the Christian tradition.
The scientific revolution of the age, with its new accounts of the Self and of the
world, gives an added weight of responsibility to his particular philosophical
solution of the problem. The attempt to solve this crisis between traditional
Christian faith and the new scientific thought is the essence of his philosophical
quest, and makes it especially relevant to our own way of thinking. Looking
back we cannot but admit that Leibnitz failed, that the new Christian humanism
he attempted to.establish has been powerless to arrest the gradual decline of
traditional Christianity. We seem to have arrived at the last stages of a decline
which neither theology nor academic philosophies, in spite of renewed efforts
and even revolutionary changes, have been able to check. In the course of this
decline we have discovered once again that the strength of Christianity lies not
at all in its theology (it matters little whether or not it is viewed as an ancilla
philosophiae), but in the traditional faith of the Christian family of men ; and it
is there that its strength is declining. Which aspect of this tradition is it, we
must ask, that has proved so defenceless against the destructive forces of the
new ways of thinking, against the new enlightened beliefs ? And our answer will
be that it is the totality of intellectual conceptions, images and doctrines, handed
down to us through the last centuries, which we have come to call the Christian
cosmology. Until the seventeenth century, and even within Protestantism, this
originally mythical world-view was founded on a partly classical and partly
Catholic ontology; to challenge this ontology was to challenge the whole
tradition.
Catholic and Protestant apologetics—the works of Pascal and Leibnitz—■
made a passionate but vain attempt to arrest the progress of the new ways of
thought. Faced with an intellectual revolution, the esprits éclairés et bien inten
tionnés turned to compromises in order to salvage the essence of Christianity.
Thus Leibnitz, convinced that he had succeeded in establishing once and for all
the wonderful harmony of the realms of Nature and Grace, could, at the very
end of his life, believe that a new and truly Christian era of peace was about to
begin. In spite of all his failures in political and theological matters he felt
that he had succeeded in that task which he had ever seen as cardinally impor
tant to himself as a responsible and committed thinker: the task of salvaging
something of the Christian heritage for the new era. In what manner, he asked,
can ‘ the old Truth ’ be reconciled with the new sciences? How can the Christian
faith in salvation be reconciled with the new mode of absolute self-assertion?
In brief, How can the threatened Christian tradition be protected against the
critique of autonomous reflection?
As a Christian and a rationalist Leibnitz did not pick out this question at
random; on the contrary, it arose necessarily in the course of his reflection,
141
and there was nothing arbitrary about his attempts at answering it. True, he did
not see the full gravity of the situation; yet he did understand that the threat
to the Christian traditioh was unprecedented in extent. His anxious attempts at
a fundamental answer to this question can be traced from his Confessio Naturae
contra Atheistas, written during the early days of his stay in Mainz, to the
Principes de la Nature et de la Grâce fondés en Raison of 1714. Again and again
he attempted to weigh the rights of reason and faith, to encompass their re
spective realms, to end 4the bitter quarrels of the religions ’ ; and the reflection
which urged him to return to these problems was at once more profound and
more noble than was admitted by Lessing and other writers of the subsequent
era of Enlightenment.
Inherent in the disintegration of the Christian tradition through the new
sciences was a new awareness of the limits of human existence. The movement
that led to this new awareness reached its peak in the middle of the seventeenth
century; and Leibnitz, by interpreting this disintegration to his contemporaries
positively, in terms of Enlightenment, became a leading figure in this move
ment. In his Système Nouveau de la Nature et de la Communication des Sub
stances, aussi bien que de VUnion qu’il y a entre l’Ame et le Corps he writes:
Je suis le mieux disposé du monde à rendre justice aux modernes;, cependant je
trouve qu’ils ont porté la réforme trop loin: entre autres en confondant les choses natur
elles avec les artificielles, pour n’avoir pas eu d’assez grandes idées de la majesté de la
nature. Ils conçoivent que la différence qu’il y a entre ses machines et les nôtres n’est
que du grand au petit. Ce qui a fait dire depuis peu à un très habile homme, auteur des
E n tr e tie n s su r la p lu r a lité d e s m o n d e s [Fontenellej, qu’en regardant la nature de près on
la trouve moins admirable qu’on n’avait cru, n’étant que comme la boutique d’un ouvrier.
Je crois que ce n’est pas en donner une idée assez digne d’elle, et il n’y a que nôtre système
qui fasse connaître enfin la véritable et immense distance qu’il y a entre les moindres
productions et mécanismes de la sagesse divine, et entre les plus grands chefs-d’œuvre de
l’art d’un esprit borné; cette différence ne consistant pas seulement dans le degré, mais
dans le genre même.376
In this and similar passages Leibnitz attempted to rescue the Christian cos
mology from attacks by 4the moderns ’ in two ways : first, by showing that the
4esprits bornés ’ were engaged in deposing 4divine wisdom ’, and secondly, by
elevating 4the majesty of Nature \ But in this manner he advanced in fact the
very argument that renders the Christian faith unreal. For to a Christian the
limits of man are drawn not by 4the majesty of Nature ’, but by God; it is in
God that the Christian knows his foundations to lie, and in Him is man’s auto
nomy suspended. These limits of man the new mathematical thought was pre
pared to accept. But it interpreted them as drawn not by a divine, but by an
anonymous power. This power—the blind causae efficientes—intruded itself,
as it were, between God and human existence; and God, relegated to a realm
distant beyond possible attainment, was no longer experienced as the limit and
foundation of all earthly existence. The natural world had lost its sacra
mental character, because man’s science and technology appeared capable of
governing it.
We have already pointed out that in this anonymous realm377 Leibnitz placed
his 4eternal truths ’, postulating them as prior to God’s omnipotence and
omniscience. Thus his 4natural theology ’ (or, as he calls it at other times, his
philosophia reformata) is a challenge to a man’s experience of 4the margins of
our life’s existence ’, actually destroying the condition that makes possible the
Christian’s experience of God. The change which Leibnitz and the subsequent
age of Enlightenment have effected is fundamental; for hereafter the propa
C H R IS T IA N F A IT H A N D F A IT H IN SC IE N C E 143
gation.of the Gospel may no longer rely upon a faith founded in a commonly
accepted cosmology. The propagation of the Gospel is out of touch with the
enlightened temper of its age, for, as Leibnitz says in the Theodicy,
La solide piété, c’est-à-dire la lumière et la vertu, n’a jamais été le partage du grand
nombre. Il ne faut point s’en étonner, rien n’est si conforme à la foiblesse humaine; nous
sommes frappés par l’extérieur, et l’interne demande une discussion, dont peu de gens se
rendent capables.
The loss which Christianity had suffered through the establishment of the
scientific cosmology and its ‘ natural theology ’ cannot, it seems, be repaired by
anything. And though in subsequent centuries this cosmology has been sub
jected to many changes, yet there are no signs of a return to the earlier world.
Once again—and even more urgently than in Leibnitz’s time—the question is
asked what is to become of the West now that the dream of a Christian humanism
is over. Asserting his philosophical views in the face of political and clerical
authorities, Leibnitz was bound to postulate an independent realm in which
truth, justice and peace were to achieve perfection. It was a realm of autono
mous reason, which to Leibnitz appeared as a mundane representation of the
religious Civitas Dei; it was a world of the intellect, and as such invisible: a
kingdom in this world but not o f this world. For as a responsible philosopher
Leibnitz had only the authority of his personality, but no power. On this prob
lem of man as a citizen of two worlds Leibnitz writes at the end (§ 15) of his
Principes de ia Nature et de la Grâce:
Tous les esprits, soit des hommes, soit des génies, entrant en vertu de la raison et
des vérités étemelles dans une espèce de Société avec Dieu, sont des membres de la Cité
de Dieu, c’est à dire du plus parfait état, formé et gouverné par le plus grand et le meilleur
des Monarques; où il n’y a point de crime sans châtiment, point de bonnes actions sans
récompense proportionnée; et enfin autant de Vertu et de Bonheur qu’il est possible;
et cela non pas par un dérangement de la nature, comme si ce que Dieu prépare aux
âmes troublait les lois des corps, mais par l’ordre même des choses naturelles, en vertu
de l’harmonie préétablie de tout temps entre les règnes de la nature et de la grâce, entre
Dieu comme architecte et Dieu comme monarque; en sorte que la nature même a la
grâce, et que la grâce perfectionne la nature en s’en servant.
In this last sentence Leibnitz was restating once more a favourite maxim of his,
‘ Et regno potentiae per efficientes involvitur regnum sapientiae per finales \ 378
Resuming an earlier argument we now see more clearly that, just as the
religious crisis of the Empire since the Reformation was inseparably connected
with the political crisis, so all modern philosophers who postulate a realm of
the intellect, an ‘ Empire of intelligible truths must needs be political thinkers
as well; and they are also jurists, just as they had been at the time of Hellenism
and at the decline of the Roman Empire. This is as true of Bodin and Hobbes
as it is of Leibnitz. Bodin saw the solution of the crisis following the Wars
of Religion in a sovereign French Empire which was to include Holland and
England; this idea was taken up by Richelieu and later by Louis XIV. Hobbes
wished to solve the crisis of his day by transferring all power from the Conti
nent to England, and thus to make of her the Leviathan that would rule the
entire world. Only Leibnitz draws from this insight into the positive effects of
scientific thought the conviction that power is of no more than secondary
importance, and that the concerted action of all esprits éclairés et bien inten
tionnés will soon result in a splendid empire of the spirit, in which Germany,
the ‘ land of technical masters will assume a leading part. He is convinced
that as soon as the Turkish and the French dangers are averted, Russia and
China christianized, and as soon as neighbourly love and piety have disposed of
the religious conflict inside Germany, this Empire will come to pass. In 1730, be
believes, the foundations of this new and happier order of the world will be laid.
But this realm of the spirit—which is ‘ not of this world ’—must first he
founded. It is to be a realm visible to all, not a Platonic toV oç ÙTrepvpdvtoç,
but an Aristotelean t o V o ç irepi7ra.TnTuc6s\ in brief, it is to be the Academy of
Sciences. This centre of the spirit is to be also the political centre of the future
state, as the mediaeval Church had once been. We have already seen that
Leibnitz’s Academy was to include all kinds of men: practical politicians and
economists, artisans and technicians as well as men of learning, in brief the
leading men of all the trades and professions. Their aims were to be: first,
‘ the welfare of the fatherland ’, secondly ‘ the common advantage of mankind ’,
and most important of all, ‘ the propagation of the true religion and the per
fection of the knowledge and love of God \ 379 Hence Leibnitz sometimes called
this realm of the spirit ‘ ordo Caritatis ’ or ‘ Societas Theophilorum ’, and de
manded that in this secularized monastic institution the study of ‘ Naturae
Arcana ’ should be combined with the ‘ theologia mystica ’, and a care for
6the present happiness of mankind ’38° with strict religious exercises. It was
to have missionaries who were to spread both science and piety propagatio
verae fidei per scientias ’) among distant peoples.381 We have little difficulty
in discerning that thus the Academy was in a fair way to becoming a rival
institution to the Christian Church. Leibnitz, on the other hand, was deeply
convinced that he had solved once and for all the problem of the conflicting
claims of reason and faith. Theology appeared to him always as a parallel
discipline to jurisprudence;382 consequently he regarded dogmatic controversies
entirely from a legal point of view. It follows that he was quite unable to per
ceive this rivalry and the danger arising from it. For is not the idea of *har
monization ’, of a reasonable 6compromise between rights ’, an essential part
of the enlightened faith in science? Of its consequences only this much need
here be mentioned : that this faith not only proves incapable of sustaining man
in his self-assertion, and of providing him with a necessary metaphysical strong
hold, but that it succeeds in destroying the necessary condition of a Christian
experience of God. There is no doubt that this most fatal consequence is entirely
to one side of the optimistic designs of Enlightenment. Yet it is this consequence
above all others that we are experiencing at the present time, especially when
contemplating the chaos which pervades realms of knowledge long since aban
doned by Christian doctrine. Leibnitz was among the first to see the portents
of our present condition; and his aim was to dam the forces of destruction.
His attempt was based upon, and informed by, an early philosophical experience,
the validity of which he found confirmed in all the varied experiences of his long
life; the attempt, he hoped, would ‘ earn him some gratitude from all intelli
gent men, from all those who hate the atheism which is at present spreading,
and who are concerned with Eternity \ 383
2
The decline of the ‘ sense of piety’ is the dominant motive of Leibnitz’s
first plans for legal and political reform; his experience of this decline we have
had occasion to examine in some detail.384 From an early age, however, Leibnitz
was convinced that the *securitas publica could be put upon a firm footing ’,
C H R IS T IA N F A IT H A N D F A IT H IN S C IE N C E 145
namely in the form of a *philosophia nova’ founded on a new fundamental
‘ ars inventiva ’.
The light of knowledge, he held, must illuminate the fervour of faith ; the
will must be perfected by reason ;385 an enlightened Christian piety must 4give
perfection and effect to the law of society ’ ; only then can an understanding in
legal, political, denominational and cultural matters be reached. Power becomes
a 4 certain good ’ only when it is at one with wisdom and charity. A new relation
between the attributes of divine goodness, omnipotence and omniscience must
be established. For the wisdom and goodness of God inspire man with awe
and confidence in the 1ordo pulcher horologium Dei \ Divine omnipotence, on
the other hand, evokes in him fear and trembling; its absoluteness, its status
as a 6ratio sufficiens ’, destroys in him the sense of piety. The faith in science is
a faith in a divine harmony of the universe, which man is able to reproduce
in a scientific doctrine of the ‘ harmonia mundi'?** hence Christianity in its
plight is to turn to the sciences for help. Against the ‘ insults of infidels and
Atheists’387 there is only one defence: to enlighten the traditional faith, to
give a concrete content to Christian piety, and to propagate the love of man
through the concept of ‘ universal sympathy \ 388 The whole argument round
the faith in science as well as Leibnitz’s own sense of piety are founded in an
early metaphysical insight of his, which he never ceased to re-interpret in his
mind. From his days at the court of Mainz onwards, from the seven opening
paragraphs of the Discours to the Monadology, we find ever new accounts of
this central insight; it is discussed in some detail in the brief essay De rerum
originatione radicali (1697). But it is in his correspondence of 1671 with his
patron the Duke John Frederick and, a little later, with Spener,389 that we find
the most intimate and concrete expression of his new piety.
In February 1670 Leibnitz sends Spener an essay on the importance of
bringing modern thinkers (Gassendi, Descartes and Hobbes) back to Aristotle;
and he adds : 4This way of organic mediation appears to me theologically safer
and logically more correct. I would like to hear your opinion on this at our
next meeting.’390
What is significant about this plan to mediate between the Schools and the
new philosophical reformers is the fact that it was Spener he asked for his views
on this issue. For he was at one with the founder of German pietism in the
belief that moral theology (cognitio) and fundamental science (inventio) must be
integrated within one system (philosophia interior). Furthermore, he shared
Spener’s view that the experience of the continuity of all things (immediatus et
continuus influxus et concursus) is a form of the experience of love; and from this
love issue all social and cultural values. And finally, both were at one in their
opposition to Hobbes,391 for both were led by their ideal of knowledge to postu
late an ethic and a law in which equity, the highest principle of which is love,
puts an end to 4the war of all against all ’. This fundamental agreement is
expressed in a letter to Spener (Hanover, July 1687):
I would say that I too, although my interests are distracted in many directions, aim
at relating everything I possibly can to the true knowledge and greater glory of God.
Therefore I not only deduce the foundations of moral science and general jurisprudence
from love; but in the p h ilo so p h ia in te rio r too I adhere to the view that the first principles
of all natural conditions can be deduced from any kind of knowledge whatever of divine
perfection. Thus I hold that, even if individual effects in nature can be explained mechani
cally, nevertheless even mechanical principles and their effects, all order and all physical
rules in general, arise n o t from purely material determinations, but from the c o n sid era tio
of indivisible substances, and especially of God. Thus I think I am able to satisfy those
prudent and pious thinkers who rightly fear that the philosophy of certain men among
the Modems is too material, and that it prejudices against religion. And to continue:
once it is perceived that it is impossible to deduce from [given] motions even their order
except with the aid of an intelligible fundamental purpose, then, surely, it will be easy to
link truth with piety. However, I admit that this is not, in general, sufficiently well known,
and that in this respect too I have but little liking for the Cartesians, especially because
they banish all final causes from their physics, and because they reckon that all circum
stances are determined by power rather than by wisdom, i.e. by nature rather than by
God. But I on the contrary am persuaded that the knowledge [cognitio] of natural con
ditions is most easily deduced from the contemplation [co n sid era tio ] of wisdom, because in
this manner all is ordered harmoniously and with the greatest possible perfection.392
In the draft of this letter the idea is worked out in some detail:
In discussions of morality and jurisprudence I have frequently held just this view.
Justice to me is the love bestowed by a wise man. Love I define as good will towards all
men, bien ve illa n ce universelle. Love is of all men: hence the good man, or he who is in
the service of justice, loves all men. But he loves each man wisely, that is, in accordance
with the degree of perfection which is either to be found in every man, or else to which
every man can attain by exercise.. . . And further, to love is.to rejoice in, or (for this comes
to the same thing) to take into consideration, the happiness of another, . . . and hence we
understand why true love wishes the loved one well without being at all concerned for its
own protection. . . . Neither the scholastics nor the moral theologians deter men in any
way from [pursuing these issues]. On the contrary, they may be consulted . . . with much
profit in this enquiry, because they perceive the force and power of every act of divine
worship to be founded in the Love of God which, overshadowing all, was bora of the
contemplation of divine perfectibility and goodness. This Love inspires faith, and in this
faith the confidence [of men] in the Son of God is safely ensconced. Without this love
faith is partly dead, partly no faith at all. But in whatever circumstances such love is
encountered, this faith is a renewal of man and a grace which some call inspired.393
In both these passages Leibnitz attempts to mediate between the Scholastics

and Cartesians; for do not the former see the force of 4every act of worship
that is directed towards God ’ to be 4founded in the Love of God and is not
this perception worthy of 4men’s confidence in the Son of God ’? The Car
tesians, who 4can give a fuller account of nature than of God ’ (i.e. Qf power than
of wisdom), are behind the Scholastics in this metaphysical insight. For Leibnitz
cognitio is founded in consideratio: 4ex consideratione dependet cognitio rerum
naturalium ’ (4 knowledge of scientific facts [too] is dependent upon contempla
tion ’). The determining, by means of a critical contemplation of natural and
historical knowledge, of all knowledge of external objects is the domain of a
philosophia interior. Such a philosophy retraces every particular account of
nature (e.g. the mechanistic account given by Descartes’s followers) to its first
causes; in this way the philosophia interior arrives at the order of motion (‘ ordo
pulcher horologium Dei ’) and, more generally, at the principles of physics
(4hypothesis physica nova ’). Such a fundamental contemplation of nature
cannot be reached from the point of view of divisibility, or when an exclusively
material notation is employed (as in Gassendi’s account), but it is concerned
with indivisible substantiations. And this is the cardinal insight of the young
Leibnitz, the insight4which will endow piety with truth ’. Not the mere poten
tiality of matter, but wisdom in the 4concursus9 of functional relations makes
reasonable creation possible.
This deduction (and its application in the moral and legal sciences) was
founded, in Leibnitz’s work, upon the love of God. The attempt to base justice
upon sublime wisdom he conducted from a point of view of active love. This
conception (which he had found in the scholastic 4 theologia moralis ’) he now
hoped (in agreement with Spener) to postulate as the goal of a political and
legal ethos. But this conception of active love gave an impetus also to his own
kars inveniendi For all that remained to be done, it appeared, was to give to
all the varied and controversial reflective activities such a logical order as would
determine the proper place of every possible thought. Thus he continues in
his letter to Spener:
From this arises the urge to turn everything into an increase of human happiness.
With all these matters I am much concerned, but most of all with a plan I have carried
in my mind for a long time now: to reduce all human reflective activities to a set calculus,
as is already done with numbers in algebra and in the A r s C o m b in a to ria . For thus surely
will not only human inventions be furthered, but many quarrels be removed, the certain
distinguished from the uncertain, while the contesting parties will simply say to each
other, Let us calculate!
In this all-important plan for a ‘ calculus characteristicus ’ both 4 consideratio ’

and 4 cognitio ’ are integrated. But let us now return to that illuminating in
sight which strengthened Leibnitz’s faith by making him capable of a new
experience of God, to his vision that the world is the creation of an act of the
spirit.394 First precisely formulated in his Hypothesis physica nova395 (written
when Leibnitz was twenty-five), this insight became a main theme in all his
later philosophical speculations. The things which 4the Platonists of old have
observed, still merit our attention \ 396 But an essential difference must be
observed : contemporary Platonists and mystics, such as Henry More, identified
the act of the spirit with intuition, a sudden creative force which flashes through
the universe and changes everything in it. To Leibnitz, on the other hand, this
act was a reflective act which presupposed the distinction (often suspended in
mysticism) between subject and object. That is why he attached so much im
portance to objectivization,397 whose quintessence are laws; and to number,
the measuring-rod of laws.398 Leibnitz’s favourite example of this pursuit of
objectivization is his explanation of the continuum with the aid of the concepts
of potentiality and actuality.399 His explanation is based on the axiom that a
whole can be fully determined by integration and differentiation. Time and
space (the very concepts which the unio mystica wished to discard) are for
Leibnitz auxiliary magnitudes with which to reduce the scale of reflective acts to
degrees of intensity. Thus the extent to which a reflective spirit is capable of
establishing objective laws becomes its chief criterion. Instead of the mystical
and intuitive concept of identity, the h kq\ i râv, Leibnitz postulated the concept
of correspondence, according to which the parts of one system of relations are
representative of the corresponding parts of another system. In the 4imme
diatus et continuus influxus et concursus ’ of this system, in which all absolute
magnitudes are turned into functions, Leibnitz the mathematician experienced
God—or rather the 4Theos Geometres ’.
4 . . . God alone is the primary Unity ’, Leibnitz writes in the Monadology,
4or original simple substance, from which all monads, created and derived,
are . . . born, so to speak, by continuous fulgrations of the Divinity. . . .’;400
and elsewhere he claims that 4fundamentally nothing exists but intelligible
substances, while sensuous objects are mere appearance \ 401 These are the
thoughts upon which Leibnitz’s new, as it were 4scientific ’, experience of God
is founded. And he finds th a t4it is now possible to give sense and meaning to
the confused thoughts of several mystics (the poets among the theologians) in
spite of all \ 402 The creed of mysticism was contained in the maxim, 4 When
God thinks, the world is created ’; Leibnitz re-formulated this maxim: ' Cum
Deus calculat—et cogitationem exercet—fit mundus ’.
The creative act of God must needs be mathematical. But what does Leibnitz
mean by calling God’s thinking 4calculation ’ ? Hobbes, it will be recalled,
defined all thinking as calculating. Leibnitz’s use of the word 4calculare ’ is
different from Hobbes’s, for what he means by it is a pure analysis of ideas. This
analysis he first mentions in the Characteristica Universalis, and he comes back
to it at the end of his Reply to the Objections o f M. Bayle (1702), where he also
refers to the correspondence between Chevalier de Méré and Pascal (in which
the former had denied the mathematical principle of infinitesimal divisibility) :
Mais ce que la Lettre dit contre la division à l’infini, fait bien voir, que celui qui
l’a écrite étoit encore trop étranger dans ce monde supérieur et que les agrémens du monde
visible, dont il a écrit, ne lui laisseroient pas le tems qu’il faut pour acquérir le droit de
la bourgeoisie dans l’autre. Mr. Bayle a raison de dire, avec les Anciens, que D ie u e x e rc e
la G é o m é trie , et que les Mathématiques font une partie du monde intellectuel, et sont les
plus propres pour y donner entrée. Mais je crois moi-même que son intérieur est quelque
chose de plus. J’ai insinué ailleurs, qu’il y a un calcul plus important, que ceux de l’Arith
métique et de la Géométrie, et qui depend de V A n a ly se d e s id é e s * 03
As a citizen of both worlds Leibnitz set out to calculate once again the idea
of creation. The modern ‘ mathesis universalis seu divina ’ filled him 4with a kind
of enthusiasm which transports [him] into that invisible world and into that
realm of infinite extension ’404 of which the scholastics spoke when they asked,
‘ Whether there exists such a thing as a vacuum formarum ’. This 4invisible
world, of which the ancient philosophers too were speaking, is in God and to
some extent in us \ But the fact that it is 4to some extent in us ’, or (as he says
in another passage) 4that all creatures bear a sign of divine infinity ’, can be
patent only to him who has understood the, secret and wonders of the 4 vraye
logique ’, i.e. of pure analysis. It fills the human spirit with a sense of awe and
wonder of the invisible 4ordo pulcher horologium Dei and in this awe Leibnitz
saw the source of true religiousness and of the Christian faith. Only he who
is acquainted with, and informed by, the new mathematical spirit can be a true
Christian. The extent to which an awareness of the wonders of the 4intelligible
world ’ strengthened Leibnitz’s religious sense may be observed in his comments
on mathematical problems, which are contained in many long letters to his
correspondents.405
Again and again he attempted to symbolize mathematically the inner corre
spondence of the intellectual and divine acts of creation. Thus in an early letter
to the Duke of Hanover (1671) he enclosed a 4brief written discourse, which I
was some time ago asked to set down, De usu et Necessitate Demonstrationum
immortalitatis Animae, in which I am considering one or two matters de Demon
strationibus meis circa Naturam Dei et Mentis. . . ,’406 And the definition of the
nature of the mind which he gives there applies also to*the nature of God:
4 Menti nostrae principium nihil fieri sine ratione et ex oppositis semper illud fieri
quod ratione habet ’. [4It is a principle of our mind to do nothing without
reason, and always to make reason of opposites.’]
In order to understand Leibnitz’s way of relating the divine creative act
with the human, in order to understand the meaning of his 4sacer ternarius:
calculare—exercere—fieri we must briefly consider two of his early works,
O f the true Theologia Mystica407 and his dyadic theory of numbers,408 which he
called an 4image of creation \ In the former essay we read:
All creatures are from God and from nothing; their self-being [selbstwesen] is from
God, their un-being [unw esen ] is from nothing. This is demonstrated in a wonderful
manner by numbers, and the essence of things resembles number. True self-knowledge
C H R IS T IA N F A IT H A N D F A IT H IN SC IEN C E 149
consists in distinguishing precisely our self-being from our unbeing. In our self-being
reposes eternity; we find there a footstep or image of God’s omniscience and omnipo
tence. Each single self-state [selb ststa n d ; sc. s u b s ta n tia l such as you and I, consists not
of three parts, namely soul, mind and body, but is a thing indivisible; yet other things,
which have no spatial existence, are engraved in it.
These thoughts (derived largely from contemporary mysticism)409 can be

verified by the dyadic theory of numbers. To Leibnitz this means that ancient
knowledge (consideratio) of the mysteries of creation—regarded until recently
as mere superstition—is now manifest to the mathematical spirit {cognitio) and
becomes demonstrably certain. It is 4demonstrated by numbers . . . which are
the essence of all things, . . . for everything in nature is as it were encompassed
by number, measure, weight or force— omnia in mensura et numero et pondere
disposuisti—and thus mathematics is able to explain such things quite ele
gantly \ 410 According to Neo-Platonism, everything that is springs from a
single supreme One; and the descent of everything that is towards absolute
not-being renders it progressively less and less perfect. The truth of this doc
trine is to be 4proved and demonstrated ’ by means of the dyadic system.
For practical reasons Erhard Weigel had advocated the introduction of a
radix smaller than 10; for speculative reasons he had chosen the ‘ sacred’
number 4. Leibnitz, following Weigel, chooses 2, the smallest possible radix;
in his system there are only two symbols, namely 0 and 1. Thus 2 will be written
as 10, 3 as 11; 4, 5, 6 and 7 will have three digits: 100, 101, 110, 111, etc. The
mathematical value of this system Leibnitz perceives to lie in the fact that ‘ it
can perfect the theory of numbers because here all proceeds in periods ’ ;411
thus from being a theory of quantities (as with Euclid) mathematics will become
a science of structures. But this system has also a metaphysical value. It is the
best objectivization of the divine idea of creation, it represents concretely the
invisible orders of a phenomenal but nevertheless securely founded world—the
phenomenon bene fundatum. The infinite number of units of reality—the infinity
of monads emanating from one original monad—must be conceived of in the
same way as we think of the infinity of numbers deducible from a single radical
unit, namely 4not through conflation, as when we say 1 + 1 = 2; 1 + 1 4 - 1 = 3
etc., but through the influx, at different points, of oneness into nothingness, as
in 101, 110, etc.’ We must conceive of these monads not as though they were
positively composed of greater or smaller quantities of some material substance,
but as though their own nothingness, their own 4not-being ’ were at certain
points infused with divine perfection, and as though the differences between
them consisted solely in the absence, at certain other points, of that which alone
has being.412
In this manner the periodical progression of the dyadic system explains the
mysterious origin of 4each single self-state [sc. of each individual substance]
w'hich is unique and indivisible 5413 in terms of an identical universal unity:
2, 3, 4, 5 . . . 0 1
Omnibus ex nihilo ducendis sufficit Unum
The metaphysical value of this system Leibnitz sees in this, that both the
manifoldness and specific individuality of every number receive recognition in
qualitative terms (i.e. in terms of a different structure of symbols) and not merely
in quantitative terms, 4solo numero ’; yet at the same time the infinite mani
foldness of elements is deduced from one universal centre. Thus the famous
‘ principium indiscernabilium ’, upon which Leibnitz’s personalist doctrine is
based, remains inviolate.414 To Leibnitz the dyadic system is an 4 imago Crea
tionis an image of the world’s creation from a void, because his system gives
a specific—not merely a quantitative—account of the process of multiplying
the universal unity of the world. It demonstrates the link between 4 calculare ’
and 4fieri * and illuminates the conception of ‘ natura naturans Mentis et Dei ’.
Thus the pantheistic aspect of Neo-Platonism, which tends to obscure the
Christian conception of a personal God, can be re-interpreted (by means of the
dyadic system) as a doctrine of personalist theism, in which the greatest possible
manifoldness exists side by side with the greatest possible unity. No one sees
the dangers of mystical pantheism to the Christian tradition more clearly than
Leibnitz;415 that is why he so consistently opposed the Plotinian tradition in
German theology, insisting that all being issues in reason—4nihil sine ratione ’—
and that man himself is the source and bearer of all reason; thus he writes in
the Discours of 1686:
Pour faire juger par des raisons naturelles, que Dieu conservera toujours non seule
ment nôtre substance, mais encore nôtre personne, c’est-à-dire le souvenir et la connaissance
de ce que nous sommes, il faut joindre la morale à la métaphysique, c’est-à-dire qu’il ne faut
pas seulement considérer Dieu comme le principe et la cause de toutes les substances et de
tous les êtres, mais encore comme chef de toutes les personnes ou substances intelligentes,
et comme le monarque absolu de la plus parfaite cité ou république, telle qu’est celle de
l’univers composée de tous les esprits ensemble.416
The republic of spirits is a moral and metaphysical commonwealth of personal

units related to one highest personality; in a letter to Arnauld Leibnitz writes:
Et Dieu n’estant à l’égard de ces substances matérielles [i.e. p la n ts , a n im a is , etc.]
que ce qu’il est à l’égard de tout, sçavoir l’auteur général des estres; il prend un autre
personnage à l’égard des esprits qui le fait concevoir revestu de volonté et de qualités
morales; puisqu’il est luy même un esprit, et comme un d’entre nous, jusqu’à entrer
avec nous dans une liaison de société, dont il est le chef.417
But Leibnitz’s image of a personal theos geometres contains a contradiction

which is as fundamental to every generalised conception of consciousness as
it is to his specific historical situation. It is the antinomy between reason and
the will, which plays such an important part in the scientific cosmology and in
Leibnitz’s personalist conception of God as the highest seat of universal har
mony.418 Man’s speculative decision about what is to be the essence of the
Ens perfectissimum determines ultimately the nature of his relation to the highest
Being, 4which would have no glory if its greatness and goodness were not
recognized and admired by the spirits *.419 For the moral world in which all
cultured and perfected spirits participate,4this truly all-encompassing monarchy
within the natural world is the most sublime of the creations of God. And
it is only in relation to this creation of His th a t4 God exercises, in the full mean
ing of this word, His goodness, while His wisdom and power are manifest
everywhere \
The conception of a Christian humanism (whose decline we are witnessing
to-day) is dependent upon a resolution of the antinomy of divine wisdom,
goodness and power; upon a proof of the 4compossibility ’ of the highest
attributes within one divine Person; upon a determining of the moral and
natural worlds as fields of activity corresponding to these attributes; and
lastly, upon its ability to encompass all the 4spirits ’ in a modern City of God.
Accordingly, it remains our task to consider the nature of this theological
antinomy, and Leibnitz’s solution of it.
3
How can the absolute validity of the laws of reason be made compatible
with the unlimited will of the Creator, which contains and is the foundation of
the Christian faith? This question, which even in the Middle Ages had been
the object of much controversy, and which since Descartes’s time had perturbed
the conscience alike of statesmen and clerical thinkers, Leibnitz is the first to
see in its fateful significance. What agreement is there between the wisdom of
man—which perceives the existence of God—and this omnipotence? Between
the freedom vouchsafed by the new science and the prayer 4Thy Will be done ’?
Descartes’s circumspect answer had been this, that the foundations of our
knowledge are to be sought in the ‘ veracitas D ei'; and that the truth of our
thinking—the ‘ dare et distincte percipere ’ as criterion of all being—is a divine
gift of our intellect, a gift not absolute in itself, but determined by divine decree.
Truth, like reality, is a self-determined, that is arbitrary, creation of God. The
Christian nature of Descartes’s solution consisted in his making truth depend
upon the absolute will of God. The practical consequences of this metaphysi
cal decision Leibnitz demonstrates in his attack upon Hobbes’s 4 doctrine of
tyranny He quotes Jiivenal’s 4Hoc volo, sic jubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas ’,
and concludes that the cogito ergo sum becomes in fact a regno ergo sum.
Nowhere in his writings does Leibnitz use such vehement language as in his
attack upon the doctrine which makes truth—the quintessence of all common
and necessary propositions of reason—depend upon the will of God ; to postu
late such a state of dependence seems to him the most fatal of all logical con
fusions. Descartes’s belief that his doctrine, by sacrificing the autonomy of
the human mind, has actually increased the authority of God seems to Leibnitz
not only an empty 4sophism ’, but even blasphemy.420 Whatever is thereby
gained for the being of God (Leibnitz claims) entails a corresponding loss in
the knowledge of God. If we are prepared to do away with the fundamental
laws of our thinking, we shall be unable to know any empirical or metaphysical
being whatever. For it is absurd to claim the existence of God if we have de
stroyed all criteria which would enable us to know Him. Hence what is truly
absolute is not the will of God, but His reason. And God’s reason is (and con
tains) nothing else but a perfect condensation of all eternal truths, and these
we are able to grasp from the law of our own spirit. God’s will too cannot
determine itself except in conformity with those transfinite orders which He
embodies and realizes. We need not go any further into this question of what
is the theological prius of God; we can see already that Leibnitz is once again
anxious to determine the foundations of law and justice, and to establish man
as a personality. Is man to be determined by his own immanent law, by his
autonomous selfhood, or is he to be sacrificed to an alien, transcendent law?
Or, to put it in Leibnitz’s own terms, is he ruled by fortune or by fa te l Leibnitz
decides against the Cartesian view in which man stands in an 4opposition in
vincible ’ (as Pascal had said) to the omnipotence of God. And his decision is
taken in the full awareness that the proposition 4All things are good not by
virtue of any inner rule of excellence, but only by virtue of the sheer will of
God entails a total denial of 4all love of God and all His glory ’.421 In the
Discours he asks his opponent: 4 Quel moyen y auroit-il de discerner le véritable
Dieu d'avec le faux Dieu de Zoroastre, si toutes les choses dépendoient du caprice
d'un pouvoir arbitraire, sans qu'il y eût ni règle, ni égard pour quoi que ce fût?'
Such a definition of God seems to resemble a definition of the Devil:
Car si le diable, c’est à dire une puissance intelligente, invisible, fort grande et fort
malfaisante estoit le maître du monde, ce diable ou ce Dieu ne laisseroit pas d’estre méchant,
bien qu’il faudroit l’honorer par force, comme quelques peuples honorent de tels dieux
imaginaires, dans l’opinion de les porter par là à faire moins de mal. C’est pourquoy
certaines personnes, trop adonnées au droit absolu de Dieu, qui ont cru qu’il pouvoit
condamner justement les innocens . . . ont fait du tort aux attributs, qui rendent Dieu
aimable, et ayant détruit l’amour de Dieu, ils n’en ont laisseé que la crainte. . . . En effect
. . . ils . . . blessent sans y penser ce qu’il y a de plus essentiel dans la religion.422
The fear of tyranny, of atheism and of hubris, a decline of the love of God
and of respect for His creations—these were the experiences which caused
Leibnitz to preface his early work Confessio naturae contra Atheistas with Bacon’s
maxim, ‘ Philosophiam obiter libatam a Deo abducere, penitus haustam reducere
ad eundem '; on one occasion, too, he admits, 4Je commence en philosophe,
mais je finis toujours en théologien \
As a Christian philosopher he was defending 6 God’s cause ’ and Christian
doctrine with the aid of his own conception of a natural theology.423 But in the
course of this defence the conception of God the Creator gradually changed,
until He became the hypostatized quintessence of all fundamental principles;
ultimately God was identified, in Leibnitz’s mind, with an ideal conception of
man. This conception is the aim and result of all our normative reflection, but
not its origin and foundation. To Leibnitz and to his disciples the belief in
God became identical with a belief in the progressive realization of morality
in nature. Ultimately this faith in God became nothing but the most certain
knowledge of that invisible order which man, 4that noblest part of the Uni
verse ’, was to realize in the natural world in the form of a moral world. And
God, to make man perfectly happy, asked no more of him than that man should
love Him.424
The message of Christ consists in His having expressed the monadological
order 4in a divinely beautiful manner, so that the most simple-minded could
understand it \ 425 Christ revealed to us the 4perfect state of the spirits and
disclosed to us their admirable laws ’. The content of His revelation is the
pre-established harmony, that 4secret of nature ’ which only future generations
will fully penetrate :
. . . Lui seul a fait voir combien Dieu nous aime, et avec quelle exactitude il a pourvu
à tout ce qui nous touche; qu’ayant soin des passereaux il ne négligera pas les créatures
raisonnables qui lui sont infiniment plus chères; que tous les cheveux de notre tête sont
comptés; que le ciel et la terre périront plutôt que la parole de Dieu et ce qui appartient
à l’économie de notre salut soit changé; que Dieu a plus d’égard à la moindre des âmes
intelligentes qu’à toute la machine du monde. . . ,426
In the Preface of the Theodicy Leibnitz outlines the future task of theology:
Je fais voir comment Jésus-Christ acheva de faire passer la Religion naturelle en loi,
et de lui donner l’autorité d’un dogme public. Il fit seul ce que tant de Philosophes avoient
en vain tâché de faire. . . .
L’on voit que Jésus-Christ . . . a voulu que la Divinité fût l’objet, non seulement de
notre crainte et de nôtre vénération, mais encore de nôtre amour et de nôtre tendresse... »
Pour l’aimer, il suffit d’en envisager les perfections; ce qui est aisé, parce que nous
trouvons en nous leurs idées.
The future task of philosophy is to write 4 a New Testament . . . of the

theos geometres ' : 4 Dieu est tout ordre, il garde toujours la justesse des pro
portions, il fait l’harmonie universelle: toute la beauté est un épanchement de ses
rayons.’427
We need not pause to show how powerful a belief this became in the cen
turies following Leibnitz’s death. It led man to freedom, and yet proved his
undoing.
^ ^ ^ ^ ÿf.
Leibnitz’s age sets itself up to decide between the omnipotence of God and
the freedom of man; he hopes to lead its faith back into Christian channels.
He claims that knowledge and faith, philosophy and theology, are identical,
and that if we ‘ retraced the marks of truth in the works of the Ancients, this
would indeed establish perennis quaedam philosophia \ 428 From the point of
view of a perennial philosophy the Christian faith lies in one line with the faith
in science, the latter being merely a heightening of the former. The difference
between them is only one of degree, just as the goodness and wisdom of God
are not (in such a view) essentially different from the same qualities in men.
A similar difference of degree is also to be found where the 4 Deus revelatus ’
appears to perfected men ( 4encore des images de la Divinité ’) either in their
natural (i.e. scientific) or in their moral relation to the highest Being—4 car
Dieu est à leur égard non seulement ce qu’un inventeur est à la machine {comme
Dieu Vest par rapport aux autres créatures) mais encore ce qu’un prince est à
ses sujets, et un père à ses enfants ’. Here finally we find the moral and intellectual
ideal of the architect and ruler of the absolutist state (4 Dieu comme architecte
contente en tout Dieu comme législateur ’), an ideal in which Leibnitz himself is
reflected. And it is indeed part of the perennial philosophy when Leibnitz apos
trophizes God the Creator—4demiurgos ’—as God the geometrician—4VIn
venteur relating Him to Apollon Geometres, the god of measures and numbers.
Apollo too has his attention fixed upon the fundamental metric and rhythmic
relations of an invisible order; and his human disciples imitate him after their
human fashion. The inscription above the entrance to the Platonic Academy—•
àyew/j,€TpnToç /uLtjSeiç eicriTw—is repeated on the archway of Leibnitz’s new
Academy.
Leibnitz’s enlightened view of God is founded upon an act of human self-
assertion in the face of the omnipotence of God. It is a triumph of freedom,
and it enables future generations 4to parry the blows of fate ’. It issues not in
the Christian experience of God, but in natural philosophy; it is a view founded
in antiquity, in the perennis quaedam philosophia.
4The inventive and ruling spirit of man ’ is now free; it is to be given its
justification in the Theodicy. B u t 4 at the end of its works and days ’ the human
spirit will once again question the SiKaiocrvn Oeov, the justice of God, and
plead with Him the predicament of his freedom.
c
FREEDOM AND THE PREDICAMENT OF MAN
I
Our enquiry issues in the question of all Christian philosophies, ‘ sur la
bonté de Dieu, la liberté de Vhomme et Vorigine du mal \ The problem of a theo
dicy is both the impetus and the limit of systematic philosophical speculation.
Prompted by Bayle’s conscientious rejection of every claim made on behalf of
a valid foundation of faith, Leibnitz’s Theodicy grows out of his conversations
with the Queen of Prussia ; it is written in French, and is the only lengthy work he
published. It is significant that of all his writings he should have chosen these
conversations for publication ; significant, that is, of his express desire to stress
what he discerned to be the popular and enlightening side of his 4propagatio
verae fidei per scientias ’. Fifty years later Lessing accepted this view by dis
tinguishing the Theodicy as a statement of Leibnitz’s exoteric philosophy from
the posthumously published essays on the understanding, which he regarded
as a nucleus of Leibnitz’s esoteric philosophy. In accepting Lessing’s distinction,
Herder429 established a fundamental dichotomy in the literature and thought of
German classicism. One part of Leibnitz’s philosophical heritage was taken up
by Christian Wolff and his school, who had spun out the Theodicy into a vast
rationalistic system. Eleven years after Wolff’s death, in 1754, the Nouveaux
Essais sur VEntendement humain were published, revealing depths of the human
mind unsuspected by Reimarus, Mendelssohn, Nicolai and the other Wolffians.
This became the work which inspired the new generation and its leaders Ha
mann, Lavater, Jacobi and Herder. But Leibnitz was the common root of both
traditions.
The solution of the problem of a theodicy, which Leibnitz had advanced
against Bayle, determined the course of Christian philosophy over the next
hundred years. It was the mainspring of that 4true faith through science ’
which came to be called Enlightenment, and which for a last time obscured what
Kant (in the title of an essay of 1791) called The failure o f all philosophical
attempts at a Theodicy. The attempt to endow God and man with absolute
values, to cling to the concepts of both divine omnipotence and human freedom,
led to antinomies which profoundly disturbed Leibnitz throughout his life.
Long before he conducted his conversations with the Queen of Prussia, he
endeavoured to 4find out the right point of view ’ from which 4the ineluctable
nature of fate would inspire man with confidence ’, without at the same time
destroying his freedom.430 By finding the 4right point of view ’ he hoped to be
able to free man for his own world, to free him from the bondage of fate. His
understanding gives man the power to recognize his predicament as a divine
ordinance. Therefore he will not endure it unintelligently and blindly, but,
acting upon it, he will come to understand it as a law. To understand one’s
predicament is 4to delight in the most general and highest ordinance: That it
matters little how things stand as long as a man has done his best ’ :
True, we cannot perceive such an ordinance, because the angle of our vision is wrong.
. . . Yet we must place the eyes of our understanding where we do not—and cannot—
place the eyes of our body. . . . And even though a man may not always be able to find
the right point of view by means of his understanding, yet he should delight in the know
ledge . . . that he would indeed find pleasure in all things if he understood them properly,
and that therefore he is even now in a position to enjoy this pleasure; for this is no different
from his finding pleasure in the pursuits of a friend or of a prince in whom he has perfect
157
confidence; and to have confidence is to be certain of one’s understanding and sound
mind even though one does not always see straightaway why this or that has happened
which from the outside does not always appear agreeable.431
It is insight into the 4Wonders of Nature ’—4la bonté de Dieu ’—which endows
man with confidence in the highest ordinance. For Nature creates order in every
thing: 4 He who is nearest to order can most easily attain to an orderly view,
that is to sensible pleasure; for truly there can be no greater pleasure than to
perceive and ascertain that all is well, and that we cannot wish it to be better.’
To Leibnitz the homo academicus is 4he who is nearest to order ’. His
consciousness corresponds to the creative freedom of the theos geometres in
whom Leibnitz has an unbounded confidence.
II
In a general way it may be said that Leibnitz’s cosmology springs from a
consciousness engaged in a constant process of analysis and synthesis. 4 Comme
il pensait toujours, il jetait sur le papier, n'importe où il fût, même en voyage, les
idées qui lui venaient incessamment à Vesprit; puis il mettait de côté ces brouillons,
et ne les relisait jamais; en effet, leur accumulation même Vempêchait de re
trouver celui dont il eût eu besoin, et il avait plustôt fait de Vécrire à nouveau. .. ,’432
Pure reflective productivity—as distinct both from sudden 4bright ideas ’ and
from the diligent working out of a fundamental discovery—is a very rare state
of consciousness. Hence it is very difficult to share, for any length of time, the
experience of a consciousness constantly and spontaneously productive.433
This difficulty is the source of Locke’s naïve objection to Leibnitz’s proposition
that 4Man is always thinking ’. This is the reason why the idea of a Charac-
teristica universalis can only be retraced from fragments, and why this idea
and Leibnitz’s mathematical achievement cannot be popularized. A careful
retracing of Leibnitz’s attempt to communicate his reflective experience soon
convinces his reader that Leibnitz thought on a level which is most difficult of
access. Few of his readers are capable of his speed of reflection; and so the
only way of keeping pace with him is to turn to the whole work and collect from
it what hints can be found there. In 1675 he wrote to Foucher: 4J'ose bien
avouer, que je n'ay pas pu gagner sur moy de lire Euclide autrement qu'on n'a
coustume de lire les histoires,’434 Yet he was hardly aware of the exceptional
immediacy of his thinking; thus he was able to convince himself that his Charac-
teristica would be as useful for scientific and political ends as for the purpose
of making Christianity available to everybody, including the Chinese.
The nature of his consciousness may be summed up in two general state
ments: first, There is only one kind of knowledge. And secondly, This know
ledge lives and develops only in one place, in a creatio continua, in the mind of
him who feels himself in the possession of the truth, and who strives to com
municate it; in brief, This knowledge lives in the mind of its creator. This
knowledge does not consist in his own subjective reflection, but he is merely
the persona through whom the spirit of the world speaks; he is the organ of
one great truth. But if there is only one kind of knowledge, and if it is to be
found only in one brain, then there can be only one way of discovering it—the
deductive method. One truth will bring forth another truth, and the Scientia
Universalis is the organism o f 4fraternal truths ’. Leibnitz opposed the view that
experience is the sole source and content of philosophy, and hence the view that
F R E E D O M A N D T H E P R E D IC A M E N T O F M A N 159
the understanding is exclusively 1re-flective ’. He thus adequately represented
what Kant called ‘ the speculative and architectonic interests of pure reason
but he lost sight of its critical function; hence Locke’s empiricism and Bayle’s
scepticism remained strange and unintelligible to him to the end of his life.
1. As a boy Leibnitz had an intuitive vision (in the manner of Pascal’s
famous dream of 1619) of an 6alphabet of human thoughts ’; throughout his
later life he confessed to a boundless love for this idea of a 1divine science ’
based on analysis, symbolism and combinational synthesis. He never ceased to
believe that ‘ il n’y avait point d ’invention qui approchât de celle-ci. . . et qu’il n’y
avait rien de si capable d’éterniser le nom de l’inventeur *. The idea he had in
mind is roughly this: An interest in exact definitions determines the outset of
every enquiry, ‘ definitionum condendarum cura mihi a puero fu it maxima ’.
Such definitions are the ‘ praecognita ad scientiam universalem ’, they form the
fundamental themes of the subsequent enquiry. Every definition, indeed every
proposition whatever, can be analysed into indivisible conceptual elements,
into 6partes simplices seu termini indefinibiles ’, because all predicates are con
tained in the subject; hence the analysis of any subject must needs arrive at all
possible predicates that are contained in the subject. Now if it were possible
to produce, b y a co-operative effort, a complete table of ‘ idées simples ’, and
thus to make easily accessible the whole elementary stock of conceptual think
ing, then each such elementary conception could be symbolized by a sign, and
the deduction of all thinkable but as yet unthought truths would become a
matter of mere calculation and combination. 6And thus ’, he writes in 1686,
*as time goes on a way will be opened up to reduce all notiones compositae of
the whole world to a few simplices which will serve as their alphabet; and
from the combination of such alphabets ordinata methodo will be discovered
all things with their theorems, and all possible inventions arising from them.’
It was the goal of his ‘ speculative and architectonic ’ reason to perfect this
method in mathematics, in philosophy and theology, in legal, political and
technological subjects, and thus to develop it into an encyclopaedic system.
An ars inveniendi and an ars interrogandi naturam were to be part of the system;
ordinary logic was to be supplemented by a logic of probability, by a theory of
games of hazard:, in brief, all academic knowledge was to be organized from
the point of a scientia universalis.
2. Leibnitz’s philosophy is based upon the decision to assert the reflective
situation as- the fundamental human situation. Man’s ultimate destination is
to play the part of a solitary metaphysician. The activity of reflection is, in such
a philosophy, valued as the highest human activity, indeed as the human acti
vity par excellence. And this evaluation he sometimes expresses by assigning a
higher ontological position to the observing or perceiving subject than to the
observed or perceived object. The necessary conclusion of this fundamental
philosophical decision is as follows:
Adhering to his own reflective position, the speculative thinker engages in
the process of deduction by observing and giving a lucid account of the unfolding
of coherences which takes place in his mind. In this he finds the happiness of
fertile activity and the assurance of his own existence; in this, too, the asserted
Self is seen as being endowed with fertile, uncontradictory and hence unlimited
existence. Such coherent reflection has a force against which no opposing force
can prevail. Thus there is in the world nothing that would defy or remain
closed to this reflection, no object without its corresponding subject. From this
Leibnitz draws two—somewhat questionable—conclusions:
(a) That all problems of human existence are problems of reflection; that
therefore it would be possible to write a deductive account of a typical history
of human life, an account which would cover all its problems past, present and
future. This was a notion very close to Leibnitz’s heart.
(b) That everything that will ever be known is contained in what is known
already. Leibnitz’s ‘ logocratic ’ decision (that the reflective activity is human
activity par excellence) entails the conviction that the totality of all possible
experience is contained in present experience, waiting to be unfolded. The
reality and objectiveness of what is given in experience consists not in blind
1being but in the infinite wealth and implicit abundance of what is to be
unfolded. An ens is all the more real for containing something beyond what it
readily discloses. By unfolding this implicit content, analytical reflection is
enriched in two ways : first, reflection becomes capable of predicting all future
experience (a somewhat dubious statement); and secondly, reflection becomes
capable of asserting the proposition of consciousness (that every order of being
entails a corresponding order of consciousness) against the objection that what
is given in experience does not exhaust all possible orders of being.
Hence to analyse an ens means: first, to place it within the total coherence of
being, and to attempt to determine its existence and qualities as necessary; and
secondly, to predict, from this attempt, all possible future experience, i.e. to
‘ plan the salvation of the world \ These two aspects of reflective analysis
Leibnitz expresses in the following propositions : ‘ Omnia substantia singularis in
perfecta notione sua involvit totum universum, omniaque in eo existentia prae
terita praesentia et futura And: 1Praedicatum futurum esse futurum iam nunc
verum est, itaque in rei notione continetur.*
At this point we must recall the intellectual and spiritual background,
determined by Leibnitz’s historical situation, from which this ‘ logocratic ’
doctrine arose. What has here been discussed is the logic of implicative rela
tions; but it must be stressed that this logic was founded upon an ontological
order alien to modern thought. Reflection, for all classical and mediaeval
philosophers (whatever their specific differences), consisted above all things in
thinking in terms of implicative relations. Whether these relations were con
ceived of logically or ontologically in terms of class and species; or in terms of
conceptual implication (praedicatio inest subjecto); or in Spinoza’s terms of a
substance with its attributes and modes; or as Cusanus’s coincidentia opposi-
torium; or as St. Thomas’s analogia entis—philosophers always believed that
what they were discussing was an essential aspect of reality. Nor can modern
thought do entirely without this belief, as may for example be observed in the
present controversy on the relation between individual man and the collective.
3. Let us now consider the concrete consequences of Leibnitz’s reflective
decision. Events and objects are no longer neutral or impersonal; there is no
‘ It'’ in his system, because to everything that is given in actual and possible
experience corresponds a reflective insight. All objective coherences are estab
lished by a synthesis in consciousness. To every event (in principle, at any rate)
there corresponds an insight into its necessity. Consciousness is given absolute
power to penetrate ever more fully its own depths. Thus it reveals to itself
ever more perfectly its abundant foundations. And the further consciousness
progresses along this road of reflection, the more perfect will be its insight into
the laws and meaning of the objective world, the more perfect will be its under
standing of the mathematically lucid cosmos of all experience, and of the neces
sity and meaning of all experience. The ultimate foundation of Leibnitz’s
4 logocratic ’ philosophy is therefore not an idea of meaningless technical pro
gress, but a faith in the significance of the world. And this faith, for Leibnitz,
is contained in 4the most significant concept ’ of God, and in his idea of 4true
piety \ 435
There exists, therefore, nothing alien, unspiritual, meaningless, arbitrary,
chaotic or absurd. All is governed by the law of sufficient reason; the world is
orderly, reasonable, spiritual and meaningful. The concept of sufficient reason
prepares the ground for a mood of teleological optimism. In Leibnitz’s view
(and in the view of his followers) the world thus becomes a system of universal
attainments to what is pre-established in experience. (Attainments, it should
be noted, which are merely reflective.) Or, in logical terms: all possible pro
positions and truths are (as Leibnitz says) 4analytical judgments or ( in Hegel’s
terms) 4propositions a priori ’ ; all may be perceived by pure reason as neces
sary and meaningful, even though they may not be perceived as such except
after an infinitely long process of education.
At last there emerges a world in which all differences, all opposition, all
limits have disappeared—an enchanted world. Nothing in it is strange or
arbitrary; there are here no disappointments which would not at the same time
be ways to reconciliation; there is no possibility of error except through inertia;
there is no sin, only a lack of spirit; nothing absurd or mysterious but is con
tained and dissolved in something higher—in brief, there is no radical evil which
philosophy would have to account for in negative terms. At this highest point
of the faith in reason the Theodicy ends.
* * * * * *
It may well be that Hegel’s system would not have had its extraordinary
influence upon European thought had he not succeeded in providing this ethos
of a faith in reason with a precisely fitting logical formulation. The logical
principle upon which his dialectic is based is just this, that there exists no nega
tive, 4that the negative is equally positive ’ ; 4 negation, by being a specific
negation, has a content, is a new concept, yet a higher and a richer concept ’.
The age of the Critique o f Pure Reason had not known how to interpret Leib
nitz’s rationalist optimism; it is dialectical thought which (without necessarily
sharing his fundamental 4logocratic ’ decision) systematized this optimism and
made it once again philosophically respectable.
It now remains to describe the consequences of Leibnitz’s ontology; his
conception of a purely creative, uncontradictory and hence unbounded, exis
tence of the asserted Self remains to be illustrated biographically.
Ill
The self-portrait which Leibnitz draws in the course of his account of mona-
dological existence depicts not only the savant, but also the baroque Prince.
The monad embodies the powerful wisdom of the Prince, who is to realize the
distant dream of a harmonia mundi by means of his divine gift of reason. If he
can rise to the level of enlightened being, if he can find 4 the right point of view ’
from which fate appears as a divine ordinance, he will be capable of securing
the peace and freedom of Europe. Thus Leibnitz writes in an early fragmentary
essay, On Wisdom :
Perfection is shown in the force to act; indeed, all being consists in a certain force,
and the greater this force is, the higher and freer is that being. As to force, it is further
true to say that the greater it is the more there is in it of the Manifold which is derived
from the One and contained in the One, because the One rules the Manifold outside of
itself, and informs the Manifold within itself. Yet Oneness in Manifoldness is nothing
but an Agreement from which springs Order; from Order comes Beauty, and Beauty
arouses Love. . . . Whenever a high Person attains to this (when such a Person, amidst
luxury and honours, yet comes to find great pleasure in the effects of his reason and in
his virtue), I value him all the more highly both for his own sake, because of his own hap
piness and true joy, and for the sake of others, knowing that this Person, because of his
power and reputation, can and will impart to others light and virtue, while such imparting
will reflect back upon himself.
Leibnitz was convinced that one day he would meet just such a 4high Person \
This conviction it is which made him 4seek out the high sovereigns in order to
demonstrate to them that the true interests of sovereignty, or the aims of the
state, are inseparable from the welfare of its subjects \
The only reason why the individual will to power delays the establishment
of the longed-for order is that this will makes its appearance as raw and uncul
tured force. Hence it is above all the sovereigns who must be enlightened.
To enlighten them is the task of those 4who have the same end in view, and who
can help each other in examining the truth, in learning to understand nature, in
increasing the powers of man, and in advancing the cause of the common
good ’. As a political adviser Leibnitz knew that 4almost all important things
which concern the commonwealth consist in exact enquiry such an enquiry,
he added, could be conducted better by dealing 4with one highest and a few
high officials, than with a community, which is incapable of reflection \ He
was at one with the spirit of an age in which (as he says in his Patriotic Thoughts
of 1697) 4only in a* very few places does power still rest with the community,
and therefore those who intend to do good must look only to where a sovereign
can be won over to their cause. This, too, is a better and easier way, for just as
Caligula, a hater of all men, wished that the Roman people should have but
one neck, so that he might cut it with a single stroke of the axe, so when a whole
people has but one head all may be helped and served in one person \ For
Leibnitz this single head was Germany’s Holy Roman Emperor. To enter the
Emperor’s service in Vienna remained Leibnitz’s aim during all his years in
Hanover: this indeed was the presupposition on which his monadological
existence was founded. When, in May 1677, it seemed likely that the Duke
would join the anti-French party, Leibnitz wrote to his Viennese friend Daniel
Crafft, asking for help to gain Spinola’s favour. In December 1677 Johann
Wilhelm Merz left Hanover for Vienna; he too did his best on Leibnitz’s behalf.
The idea for which Leibnitz wished to gain the Emperor’s support was the old
plan of a Corpus iuris reconcinnatum. He started immediately to collect all the
necessary material (now in the hands of his old friend Hermann Lasser’s heirs),
and drew up a plan for a Codex Leopoldinus. The Imperial Chancellor Lineker
and the Emperor himself seem to have approved of the idea—yet the appoint
ment never came.
As time went on the discrepancy between his intellectual activity and his
subordinate position as a legal adviser to the Principality became less and less
bearable. From this tension arose the countless political, economic, military and
technical projects which he was eager to submit to the Emperor. They all
remained unread. After the death, in 1680, of Peter Lambeck, the Emperor’s
librarian, Leibnitz set all his hopes on being offered the vacant post. In his
correspondence on the subject he was careful to point out that he would not
wish to take up the post of Librarian without at the same time receiving the
office and honour of Imperial Privy Councillor. In his letters to Daniel Crafft
he revealed his unwillingness to change his religion, believing that in the office
of Privy Councillor he would not be asked to do so, because in the Imperial
Council a certain number of places were reserved for Protestants. But once
again his plans came to nothing; the Librarianship was given to some other
person, and in the Imperial Council there was no vacancy.
All his attempts to escape the narrow world of the Principality failed, and
so did all his hopes of gaining for himself an influential position in the learned
world of Europe. In Paris he applied for membership of the Académie ; with
the help of some of its members he even attempted to get a post with a royal
stipend. He hoped to follow in the footsteps of his teacher Christian Huygens,
whom Colbert in 1665 had brought from Amsterdam to Paris. A first mention
of this post is made in a letter (September 1675) to Jean Gallois; Huygens
himself supported his application; and after the death, in October 1675, of
Roberval (whom he was to succeed), there was some hope of his being at last
successful. The decision lay with Colbert—but again Leibnitz failed. In spite
of an urgent invitation from Duke John Frederick of Hanover, he waited in
Paris another twelvemonth for an academic appointment—until at last he was
in danger of losing the position which Hanover was offering him. Hanover
remained indeed his last refuge. The correspondence with the Duke during the
years 1673-1676 contains all the pathetic details of his stubborn defence of his
own way of life : when there were difficulties about his prospective Paris appoint
ment, his interest in the Duke’s offer rose; when there was a new chance of his
remaining in Paris, his interest dwindled and he began to make excuses; in the
end he bargained for every new week of his stay, until the Duke’s patience was
almost exhausted. What is so significant in this correspondence is the struggle
between the savant and the Prince for the monadic unity of ratio et voluntas, for
the enlightened will to power.
An autobiographical sketch written in Paris at that time begins with the
words: 6Auctoritas personae praevalet rationibus *.436 Leibnitz knew well how
important ‘ a great reputation ’ was for attaining 6the solar position ’. The
status of savant, which at the German courts had a mainly decorative value,
could not satisfy him. In provincial Hanover—a Versailles en miniature—his
functions and duties became grotesquely trivial. A constant tension between
individuality and universality, between appearance and reality, led to countless
conflicts. And so the Geheimer Justizrat and historiographer spent most of his
time travelling. Now he was in Berlin with Queen Sophia Charlotte, now again
in Vienna with the Empress-Dowager; he visited Dresden, or Duke Anton
Ulrich at Wolfenbüttel.437 In 1712 he went to see the Tzar in the Bohemian
spas, in December he was again in Vienna, hoping once more to be given a
permanent appointment. Should he succeed (he writes), he would return for a
■brief visit to Hanover, to finish his history of the Guelphs—on which he had
been working for twenty-five years—and then take his final leave. . . . Eighteen
months he tarried in Vienna, ante-chambering and making plans. The Empress
Amalia—a daughter of Duke John Frederick—took him under her wing, and
he was given the title of Reichshofrat. 43S Yet for his political plans and for his
Academy no money could be found; furthermore, he had to contend with
Q9
opposition from the Jesuits. Again there came threatening letters from Hanover,
demanding his immediate return. When the news arrived of the death of the
Queen of England and of Hanover’s accession to the throne, he was certain
that now he would be given the post of Royal Historiographer in London.
He asked for leave of absence from Vienna and hurried back to Hanover. He
arrived there on the 14th September 1714—three days after the new King’s
departure for England. But Leibnitz dared not follow King George to London
without explicit permission, for only now did he learn how deeply he had offended
his master by his long absence. He forfeited the arrears of his salary for five
quarters and was forbidden to go on any new journeys. In vain he wrote con
ciliatory letters to London; the answer was always the same: so long as he
had not finished his history the King would not receive him.439
This flight from Hanover, then, reveals the secret conflict, in Leibnitz’s life,
between freedom and commitment ; the famous 4alliance de la théorie et de la
practique ’ was a failure. In vain did Leibnitz endeavour to escape from his
predicament, from his desire for freedom; his absolute spirit was committed
to an infinite task which led him out of the world of reality. He lived out of
touch with his age, no one was interested in his plans. Gradually he lost himself
in the two labyrinths of infinity and freedom, while to his contemporaries he
appeared as a lonely eccentric. He fled the present and lived in the past and in
the future. His kingdom—his political no less than his philosophical kingdom—
was not of this world. His existence had lost its purpose, it was lonely, a window
less monad. Only his faith in a pre-established order made life bearable—it was
a faith in the past and in the future, in memories and hopes. In this mood he
wrote in the summer of 1714 his Monadology—the constitution of a new age.
IV
The fundamental unity of the world and the Self, the abstract community
of all men, Leibnitz perceived to be contained in a rational account of free self-
consciousness. In this manner all individual substance reflects the universe.
In reflection the soul finds 4 the representative forms of the divine res publica ’.
Hence the world of chaos and contradiction can be redeemed by the spirit.
The rational account of individuality attempted in the Monadology entails a
securing of the traditional forms of representation in the realms of politics,
culture and religion. Yet the Monadology is more than a working-out of the
argument contained in the Ars combinatoria of 1666. What has been added is
the concept of organic structure; for now every entity comes to connote an
organic community. A true whole is not merely pieced together, its parts are
not independent of it, they do not exist before the whole exists. Yet neither
does the whole precede its parts. The political experience upon which this
doctrine is founded is expressed in his letter to Arnauld, where he insists upon a
distinction between matter and substance:
On ne trouvera jamais rien de réglé pour faire une substance véritable de plusieurs
estres par aggrégation, par examples; . . . les parties qui conspirent à un même dessein
sont plus propres à composer une véritable substance que celles qui se touchent; .. . mais
le dessein commun, qu’est-il autre chose qu’une ressemblance ou bien un ordre d’actions
et passions que nostre esprit remarque dans des choses différentes ?
The whole as a community contains *something notional ’, it is not a mere

sum total of its parts. The structure of the human and cosmic civitas is founded
F R E E D O M A N D T H E P R E D IC A M E N T O F M AN 165
not in mechanical laws, but in a law of energy. And this essentially revolutionary
conviction derives from, and is supported by, Leibnitz’s view of the Empire as a
political and theological civitas. Here, too, is founded the concept of harmony,
taken over from Kepler. It is Providence which harmonizes a plurality of mem
bers in a whole. Now if Providence, while forming each of its parts, is seen to
give due regard to the interests of that whole, it must follow that while forming
the whole, Providence will give the same regard to the interests of each of its
parts. This Providence or fittingness, which is to be found in all cosmic and
political processes, is simply the most concrete aspect of the pre-established
harmony. It is at home in every organic whole, in all natural or human crea
tions, in divine or human works of art; everywhere an end is contained in its
beginning. Viewed in this way, the res publica becomes a work of art with an
historical development which takes the form of a Church or a state.
Kant once called Leibnitz’s conception of harmony ‘ purposiveness without
purpose’; in thus designating the teleological aspect of this conception, Kant
established a precise criterion for distinguishing it from the many inferior
conceptions which are based on 4purposiveness with a purpose ’. Indeed, the
conception of a pre-established harmony can be applied to the idea of clock
work, and there is little doubt that the idea of conceiving the universe as a
reflectively planned mechanism was for a long time in Leibnitz’s mind; the
image of the 4 Ordo pulcher horologium Dei ’ first occurs in a letter to Thomasius
written in 1669. But at the same time Leibnitz remained aware that whatever
is contrived by art, or put together from parts, has no original but only a deri
vative harmony; that whatever is made in accordance with a plan must con
form to the essential conception of such a plan, yet all individual details are
accidental to the essential conception. Only creative spirits work like nature,
establishing a whole. At this point the spiritual activity of monads, the very
essence of their individuality, is given a new meaning. Monads are not merely
4counting and calculating mirrors ’ (this was the way Weigel, and later Christian
Wolff, interpreted the doctrine), but creatively gifted substances. The monad
Man is endowed not only with a constructive reason, but above all with a spon
taneously creative reason. It is only now that we can fully understand Leibnitz’s
interest in contemporary mysticism. So profoundly was he convinced of the
wholeness of the world that he could not conceive of it as 4made ’ by God.
God merely gives it reality. Freely He chooses from among an infinity of pos
sible worlds the best possible world; such an act of free choice is not in conflict
with His infinite goodness.
Leibnitz’s organic cosmology is also different from Spinoza’s, who followed
Descartes by basing his world upon a rationalistic account of the soul. In his
attempt to deduce the individual from the One that is All, Spinoza was following
the geometrical deduction of all figures from the nature of space. For this
method geometry is suitable, because its space is continuous and entirely deter
minable by points; the universe too would have to be conceived as a cosmic
unity of microcosmic minima. Leibnitz’s application of the mos geometricus is
different. He had analysed the world not into points but into monads, or psychic
points of view, or spiritual microcosms, or quantities of energy. These monads
represent the whole individually, i.e. as diversely as possible. His minima of con
sciousness are alive with a striving for yet more lucid consciousness, with a
longing for the whole, for the community. Once again we are reminded of
Germany after the Peace of Westphalia : all her petty states strive upward and
towards leadership. Whoever is capable, by disposition and through circum-
stances, of rising from his low condition, becomes the leader of a small group
(e.g. Brandenburg-Prussia; Hanover; Mainz). When such a community
breaks up, its leading soul—the Prince—loses its representative position. He
is then either submerged in the dark mass of other souls, or else he becomes
part of a new, perhaps higher form of life. Every monad carries as it were a
Field-Marshal’s baton in its knapsack, and so does every fortune’s minion of
the baroque age. Yet it is not the will to power that carries the monad upward,
but the will to establish and inform a community; only in this will can the urge
towards universality—towards an unfolding of the Self—be finally fulfilled. In
Leibnitz’s life too the urge towards universality was an urge to go out into the
community of the world at large ; and at the same time—for the monad is win
dowless—his self-consciousness shut itself off from the whole world. In his
metaphysical account of the Self this psychic and ethical conflict was apparently
resolved. For on all levels of monadic existence this striving towards communion
raises the representative status of the monad, and thus broadens and clarifies
its vision; even subordinate individualities, whose activities had but a minimum
amount of meaning, attain, in every new community they enter, a new sub
jective and objective significance. Every act of merging with a community is
an absolution from self-interest, and every such act goes hand in hand with the
perfecting of the soul. The more open a monadic being, the more inward its
common sense. Leibnitz’s ideas here resemble Faust’s ideal of rising above
himself through active work in the service of a community of fellow-beings.
In the Monadology the abstract concept of unity stands for the concept of a
human community; and as such it stands also for a political doctrine. The
monad represents the German principality with its characteristic self-interest
(copied from the court of Versailles) and self-centredness. Living among—
and suffering under—these conflicting self-interests, Leibnitz longed for the
harmonia mundi inherent in his idea of Empire. He was aware that all localized
solutions are but stages on the way towards a European federation. Instead
of many absolutist individualities, he wished to see that common sense which
once had informed all Christendom. Ever more clearly there appeared on his
widening horizon the idea of Europe as the ultimate goal of an endless process
of spiritual integrations.
Yet even a European common sense was too narrow a concept for his aims.
He began to think in terms of Continents: plans were made for trade agree
ments with Russia and China; in 1693 he writes that the American ‘ nouveau
Monde protestant ’ will not only bring succour to its European brethren in the
faith, but will be a means ‘ pour répandre la lumière de la vérité parmy les peuples
barbares ’. We can see quite clearly to what extent later European colonization
was founded on this dubious over-estimate of the idea of the harmonia mundi.
Committed to the controversial self-interest of a community, Leibnitz was
concerned with elucidating this concept and determining its structure. He was
conscious of being a German, and yet he was (in his own words) ‘ a good Euro
pean ’, anxious to enlighten the self-interest (Eigensinn) of each nation by
transforming it into a true common sense (Gemeinsinn). And the same is true
of his activities on behalf of a reunion of the Churches. The spirit can only
be made perfect through knowledge acquired in communion with other spirits;
this is the meaning of his * universal correspondence ’. (It may be recalled how
Leibnitz strove for a realization of this idea in his plans for a unification of all
European Academies, and how he suffered under the actual conditions of the
European world of learning.) Just so the individual soul can only become
aware of God ‘ in a cosmic community ’—i.e. in nature. Religious as well as
scientific education demand the founding of a 4 Societas Theophilorum \ which
for Leibnitz was not so much a clerical congregation as 4 divine Nature ’ itself.
To enter into communion with Nature 4makes truly pious he said, anticipating
an important aspect of later Enlightenment.
But history too represented to him just such a community. We know how
he sought out the community of past philosophers, ever anxious to find beneath
the controversies of schools the essential and perennially valid continuity of
philosophical thought. Hence Leibnitz has often been called a conservative
thinker. He did indeed guard and increase the heritage of the past, and his
philosophy remained closely in touch with the manifoldness of the philosophical
tradition. The universality of history was as fundamental to his way of thinking
as the universality of nature. The same structural law applies to the phenomenal
worlds of time and of space ; the history of the human spirit is indeed 4perennis
quaedam philosophia \
This idea of historical continuity brings out once again the importance, for
Leibnitz, of the communion inherent in all being. And the monadological
mode of existence appears thus as a mode of understanding, of communication.
Again and again he stressed that every monad (or individuality, or conscious
ness) is essentially solitary, however much it may merge with a community and
be encompassed by a common sense. The monad has 4no windows, by which
anything could come in or go out it neither sees nor can be looked into; in
all communion it asserts merely its self-hood. Nor do individual substances
(on souls, or institutions, or communities) in any way impinge upon one another;
they can exert no direct influence. Thus all communion, all communication,
must needs be of a spiritual nature. Every part is, in its own way, the whole.
Consciously or unconsciously it contains everything else: the state, the Church,
the world and its history. The present too is a seed-box of the future: 4Every
state is a natural consequence of its preceding state in such a manner that the
present state of it is big with the future he writes in the Monadology (§ 22).
Leibnitz’s harmony is 4un accord réglé par avance ’ of psychic and cosmic
elements. It contains 4 something notional, dependent upon the fiction of our
spirit ’. His reflective Self, suffering from this lack of a European common
sense, found something of its own isolation in the essence of the reflective sub
stance. Our consciousness we share with no one: communion is possible only
through our objectivity—the European crisis—not through our subjective Self.
Spiritual sympathy bridges the gulf between one Self and another Self. But
because Leibnitz identified the world with his reflection, he concluded that real
communion must be possible through spiritual communion. For the monad
too is part of the whole, and hence the solitary soul contains also something
impersonal, more-than-individual; and it is this impersonal element which, for
Leibnitz, is also the primal element of the soul. He held that all springs spon
taneously from his own individuality, that all controversy with other men is
controversy with the Self. The more inward the soul, the more perfect its
communion with nature and history.
This exclusive stress upon individuality is due, first, to an assertion of the
Self in the crisis of the contemporary controversy ; and secondly, to a spirit of
rationalist absolutism, which insists that each monad is contained in its con
cept, and that it can realize nothing but what is given in its concept. Yet such
an exclusive demand of the logical self-consciousness must needs lead to an
isolation of every monadic existence. For every object can be adequately defined
only if the whole to which it belongs is contained in its concept, just as the
concept of a triangle presupposes and contains the nature of Euclidean space.
But this doctrine of logical implication remains a dangerous deception. There
does not exist any act of reflection by means of which the reflective Self could
escape the labyrinth of isolation. The world is full of other men’s self-interests,
which arise just because each reflective substance strives to unfold itself, to rule
the external world and to transform it into an image of its Self. And thus he
who lives in the isolation of his Self must needs suffer the harshness of a world
which remains hostile to all individuality. He who would transform the world
in his own image must either strive for power, or abdicate from it entirely.
Then, isolated from the world, he will encompass the whole. The monad will
then be confined to the Self, its centre will also be its horizon; this situation
mediaeval mysticism had formulated in the proposition 4sphaera infinita cuius
centrum est ubique circumferentia nusquam \ 440 Although individual substance
(unlike the primal monad) is not actually infinite, it is yet virtually infinite. It
too, in its own way, is 4 un centre qui exprime une circonférence infinie ’ ; and
this 4expressing 5 of the infinite universe means not only passive reflection, but
spontaneous creation of individual worlds.
Less than a hundred years passed before the philosophy of German roman
ticism began to defend this gnostic view against Kant’s criticism. Schelling was
the first to rediscover Leibnitz’s faith in science, the first to liberate the absolute
spontaneity inherent in the m onad,4in order to bring about a greater revolution
in science and in all its parts than it has ever known before Leibnitz’s idea of
4creative freedom ’ too was rediscovered : 4 Only he who has tasted freedom
can feel the urge to create everything as an analogy of it, to impart freedom to
the whole universe. Whoever comes to philosophy by some other route, merely
follows and imitates others, without feeling why he does it.’441
This 4feeling ’ of liberation Leibnitz too knew well, even though for him it
was as yet ensconced in a pre-established order. In the philosophy of Romanti
cism, on the other hand, this feeling left the confines of Leibnitz’s self-assertion;
and once again the existence of everything strange, hostile and sinister was
denied. Philosophy once again 4discovered ’ the beauty of a universe in which
all that is is good by virtue of its mere being. Esse was again identified with
4bonum esse ’, and all being perceived as meaningful. Purposiveness was con
ceived as of its nature good; hence when every being was seen as related, in its
teleological aspect, to another being, the predicament of man came once more
to be misinterpreted as a relation of coherent meanings. In this new order all
being was in harmony with the reflection of creative spirits—and by means of
this fittingness the human predicament was once again obscured; for man was
seen as part of an all-encompassing ordo naturae. Yet mortal man is part of an
order of transcience; hence he cannot fully survey the beauty of the whole, or
the meaning of his fate. On the margins of existence as Romanticism conceived
of it there arose the problem of the justice of God, and so the German romantic
philosophers turned once more from the esoteric centre of Leibnitz’s reflective
world to its exoteric periphery, to his Theodicy. Systematically they concluded
the trains of thought of those 4casual conversations ’ which the aged Leibnitz
had once conducted with the Queen of Prussia during their walks in her beautiful
B IB LIO G R A PH IC A L N O TE
‘ Q ui m e non n is i e d itis n o v it— n o n n o v it * (Leibnitz in a letter to Plaecius, 21.2.1696.)
The following is a list of the chief editions of Leibnitz’s works and of the abbreviations used
in the Notes:
J. F. Feller: O tiu m H a n o v e ra n u m , siv e M isc e lla n e a e x o re e t sc h e d is Illu s tr is V iri p ia e
m e m o r ia e ; G o d o fr. G u ilielm i L e ib n itii. Lipsiae 1718 . . . . . F eller
E. Raspe: Œ u v re s p h ilo so p h iq u e s la tin e s e t fr a n ç a is e s d e f e u M r . d e L e ib n itz , tiré e s d e ses
M a n u s c r its q u i s e co n se rv e n t d a n s la B ib lio th è q u e ro y a le à H a n o v re . A Amsterdam et à
Leipzig, 1765 ................................................................................................. R a sp e
J. H. F. Ulrich: G o ttfr ie d W ilh e lm von L e ib n itz : S e in e p h ilo so p h isc h e n W e r k e nach R a s -
p e n s S a m m lu n g . A u s d e m F ra n tzö sic h e n m it Z u s ä tz e n u n d A n m e r c k u n g e n . Halle 1778-1780,
2 vols. . . . . . . . . . . . . . U lrich
C. Kortholt: V iri IU ustriss. G o d e frid i G uil. L e ib n itii E p isto la e a d D iv e rso s. Lipsiae
1734-1742, 4 vols........................................................................................................... K o r th o lt
L. Dutens : G o th o fre d i G u ilielm i L e i b n i t i i . . . O p e ra o m n ia , N u n c p r im u m c o lle c ta . Genevae
1768, 6 vols. [Vol. I: theology; vol. II: logic, metaphysics, physics, medicine, natural
science; vol. Ill: mathematics; vol. IV: history, jurisprudence; vols. V, VI: philo
logy.] . . . . . . . . . . . . . D u te n s
J. E. Erdmann: G od. G uil. L e ib n itii O p e ra P h ilo so p h ica . Berolini 1840 . . E rd m a n n
G. A. Pertz: L e ib n itz e n s g e s a m m e lte W e r k e a u s d en H a n d s c h r ifte n d e r K ö n ig lic h e n B ib lio
th e k z u H a n n o v e r. Hanover 1843-1847. E r s te F o lg e : G esch ich te. 4 vols. . . P e r tz
G. E. Guhrauer: L e ib n iz 's D e u tsc h e S c h rifte n . Berlin 1838-1840, 2 vols. . G u h ra u er
W. Grotefend: B rie fw e c h se l zw isc h e n L e ib n itz , A r n a u ld u n d d e m L a n d g ra fe n von H e sse n -
R h e in fe ls , h era u sg eg eb en a u s d en H a n d sc h rifte n d e r K . B ib lio th e k z u H a n n o v e r. Hanover
1846 G ro te fe n d
C. von Rommel: L e ib n iz u n d L a n d g r a f E r n s t von H e s s e n -R h e in fe ls — E in u n g e d ru c k te r
B rie fw e c h se l ü b er relig iö se u n d p o litis c h e G e g e n stä n d e . Frankfurt 1846-47, 2 vols.
von R o m m e l
A. Foucher de Careil: L e ttr e s e t O p u scu les in é d its d e L e ib n iz . Paris 1854. . L e ttr e s
A. Foucher de Careil: N o u v e lle s L e ttr e s e t O p u sc u le s in é d its d e L e ib n iz . Paris 1857
N o u v e lle s L e ttr e s
A. Foucher de Careil: Paris 1859-1875, 7 vols. .
Œ u v re s d e L e ib n iz . . . Œ u vres
O. Klopp: D ie W e r k e von L e ib n iz . Hanover 1864-1884. E r s te R e ih e : H isto risc h -p o litisc h e
u n d sta a tsw isse n sc h a ftlic h e S c h r ifte n . 11 vols. . . . . . . K lo p p
C. J. Gerhardt: D ie p h ilo so p h isc h e n S c h r ifte n von G o ttfr ie d W ilh e lm L e ib n iz . Berlin
1875-1890, 7 vols. [This is the most complete edition to date.] . . G erhardt
C. J. Gerhardt: L e ib n ize n s m a th e m a tis c h e S c h r ifte n . Berlin and Halle, 1849-1863, 7
vols. . . . . . . . . . . . G erh a rd t: M a th e m .
L. Couturat: O p u scu les e t fr a g m e n ts in é d its d e L e ib n iz , e x tr a its d e s M a n u s c r ip ts d e la
B ib lio th è q u e R o y a le d e H a n o v re . Paris 1903 . . . . . . C o u tu ra t
A. Buchenau & E. Cassirer: G . W . L e ib n iz ’ p h ilo so p h isc h e W e r k e : H a u p tsc h r ifte n zu r
G rundlegung d e r P h ilo so p h ie. Leipzig 1904-1925, 4 vols. [Vol. I: logic and methodology;
vol. II: metaphysics, ethics and jurisprudence; vol. Ill: N o u v e a u x E s s a is ; vol. IV:
T h eo d icy] . . . . . . . . . . B u c h en a u -C a ssirer
G o ttfr ie d W ilh elm L e ib n iz : S ä m tlic h e S c h r ifte n u n d B r ie fe , h era u sg eg eb en von d e r P re u s-
sisc h e n A k a d e m ie d e r W isse n sc h a fte n . General editor: Paul Ritter, Darmstadt, 1923-1936.
The following vols, have been published so far:
169.
.70 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E S E V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y R E V O L U T IO N
1st series, vol. I: Political and historical correspondence, 1668-1676.
1st series, vol. II: Political and historical correspondence, 1676-1679.
Iliid series, vol. I: Philosophical correspondence, 1663-1685.
IVth series, vol. I: Political writings, 1667-1676.
Vlth series, vol. I: Philosophical writings, 1663-1672.
1st series, vol. Ill: Political and historical correspondence, 1679-1686.
References to this edition are m a r k e d .......................................................... A c a d e m y
The English reader may also consult the following works, to which reference is made in the
foot-notes below:
C. W. Russell: G . W . L e ib n iz : A S y s te m o f T h e o lo g y . Translated, with an Introduction
and Notes. London 1850 ............................................................................. R u s s e ll
A. G. Langley: G . W . L e ib n itz : N e w E s s a y s co n cern in g H u m a n U nderstanding. With an
Appendix. New York, 1896 . . . . . . . . L a n g le y
R. Latta: G . W . L e ib n iz : T h e M o n a d o lo g y a n d o th e r p h ilo so p h ic a l W ritin g s. Translated
with Introduction and Notes. Oxford 1896 [2nd impr. 1925] . . . L a tta
H. W. Carr: G. W . L e ib n iz : T h e M o n a d o lo g y ; with an Introduction, Commentary and
supplementary essays. London 1930 . . . . . . . C a rr
M. Morris: G . W . L e ib n iz : P h ilo so p h ic a l W ritin g s. Selected and translated, London
1934. E v e r y m a n 's L ib r a r y No. 905 . . . . . . . E v e ry m a n
The following bibliographical works have been published:
E. Bodemann: D ie L e ib n iz-H a n d sc h r ifte n d e r K ö n ig lic h e n ö ffe n tlic h e n B ib lio th e k z u
H a n n o v e r. Hanover & Leipzig 1895 . . . . . . . B odem ann
E. Ravier: B ib lio g ra p h ie d e s Œ u v re s d e L e ib n iz . Paris 1937. [This enormous work con
tains a number of collations of the larger editions, and is brought up-to-date by7]:
P. Schrecken S u p p lé m e n t. In: R e v u e p h ilo so p h iq u e , Paris, November-December 1938.
Among recent French publications see also:
P. Schrecken G . W . L e ib n iz . L e ttr e s e t fr a g m e n ts in é d its c o n c e rn a n t le s p ro b lè m e s . . .
d e la reco n c ilia tio n d e s d o c trin e s p r o te s ta n te s , Paris 1934.
NOTES
IN T R O D U C T IO N
1 Cf. Gustav Frank: G esch ich te d e r p r o te sta n tis c h e n T h eo lo g ie. 4 vols., Leipzig 1862-1905.
2 Cf. C. G. Ludovici: A u sfü h r lic h e r E n tw u r f e in e r v o llstä n d ig en H is to r ie d e r L e ib n itz isc h e n
P h ilo so p h ie , z u m G ebrauch se in e r Z u h ö r e r . Leipzig 1737.
J. F. Lamprecht: L e b e n d e s F re y h e rrn G o ttlie b W ilh e lm von L e ib n itz . Berlin 1740.
J. C. Förster: C h a ra c te r d re y e r b e rü h m te r W e ltw e ise r , n ä m lic h L e ib n itz e n s , W o lffs u n d B a u m
g a rte n s. Halle 1765.
J. G. Eckhart: D e s selig en H e r r n von L e ib n ü z L e b e n sla u f. Nürnberg 1777.
J. A. Eberhard: C h a ra c te r istik d e s F reih errn von L e ib n itz . Leipzig 1796.
The first reliable biography is by G. E. Guhrauer: L e ib n iz . Breslau 1846, 2 vols.
3 Cf. P. Fransen: L e ib n iz u n d d ie F ried en ssch lü sse von U tre c h t u n d R a s ta tt-B a d e n . Purmerend
1933.
This work gives a reliable account of Leibnitz’s political activities and corrects the views of
previous writers, especially of Onno Klopp (see bibliographical note above) and E. Pfleiderer:
L e ib n iz als P a tr io t ,. S ta a ts m a n n , u n d B ild u n g strä g e r. E in L ic h tp u n k t a u s D eu tsc h la n d s trü b ste r
Z e it. Leipzig 1870.
4 Cf. H. Schmalenbach: L e ib n iz . München 1921, p. 43: ‘ The actual biography of this man is
no less chaotic, shapeless and full of mysterious and fantastic events than the frankly fictiona
accounts of his life. Now we hear of him as a splenetic recluse suffering from violent attacks
of gout, now again as a splendid and powerful courtier; now he is an enthusiastic hot-gospeller,
now again a servile intriguer who “ hides a growth the size of a pigeon’s egg ” under his full-
bottomed wig. . . .’
5 For recent searches for Leibnitz’s political memoranda cf. P. Ritter: ‘ N e u e L e ib n iz-F u n d e ’.
In: Transactions of the B e rlin A c a d e m y , 1904, IV.
6 A reconstruction of Leibnitz’s scientific cosmology will be found in Kuno Fischer’s G esch ich te
d e r n eueren P h ilo so p h ie. Mannheim 1855, especially vol. II. The following two works are
concerned not with the mathematical and logical achievements, but with Leibnitz the meta
physician :
D. Selver: D e r E n tw ic k lu n g sg a n g d e r L e ib n izisc h e n P h ilo so p h ie. Leipzig 1885.
L. Stein: L e ib n iz u n d S p in o z a . E in B e itr a g z u r E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te d e r L e ib n izisc h e n P h ilo
sophie. Berlin 1890.
H. Cohen: D a s P rin z ip d e r In fin ite sim a lm e th o d e u n d se in e G esch ich te. Berlin 1883, is the first
to show the relation between Leibnitz’s mathematical work and the M o n a d o lo g y .
B. Erdmann: '‘ B e r ic h t über d ie n eu ere P h ilo so p h ie b is a u f K a n t* . In: A r c h iv f ü r G e sc h ic h te
d e r P h ilo so p h ie. Berlin 1890, vol. IV, pp. 289 ff., claims (in direct opposition to K. Fischer)
that ‘ Leibnitz’s mathematical achievement is the crystallization of his whole philosophy ’.
Edmund Husserl: L o g isc h e U n tersu ch u n g en , Halle 1900, vol. I, § 60, is the first to assert the
importance of Leibnitz’s M a th e s is U n iversa lis as the greatest discovery in logic since Aristotle;
Husserl regards the A r s C o m b in a to ria as the foundation of modem pure mathematics, and
concludes the argument as follows: ‘ Leibniz works with p u r e logic, which is our concern too.
Nothing is further from his way of thinking than the idea that all ways of obtaining and orga
nising knowledge [.E r k e n n tn is k u n s t] are founded in psychology. To him all fundamental
knowledge is a p rio ri. To him the foundations of knowledge constitute a mathematical dis
cipline; like arithmetic itself, this discipline directly comprises all manners of arranging
practical knowledge.’
A further advance along this line is Bertrand Russell’s A C ritic a l E x p o s itio n o f th e P h ilo so p h y
o f L e ib n iz. Cambridge 1900, where Leibnitz’s concept of substance is viewed as an ‘ incon
sistency ’ and the system of mathematical logic is based on a doctrine of realism which attempts
to interpret substances in terms of an ‘ independent reality of relations ’.
In his latest book, A H is to r y o f W e ste rn P h ilo so p h y . London 1946, p. 604, Russell attempts to
explain the logical incoherence of Leibnitz’s system by psychological means; thus he writes:
‘ His best thought was not such as would win him popularity, and he left his records of it
unpublished in his desk. What he published was designed to win the approbation of princes
171
and princesses. The consequence is that there are two systems of philosophy which may be
regarded as representing Leibniz: one, which he proclaimed, was optimistic, orthodox, fan
tastic and shallow; the other, which has been slowly unearthed, was profound, coherent,
largely Spinozistic, and amazingly logical. It was the popular Leibniz who invented the doc
trine that this is the best of all possible worlds (to which F. H. Bradley added the sardonic
comment “ and everything in it is a necessary evil”); it was this Leibniz whom Voltaire
caricatured as Doctor Pangloss. It would be unhistorical to ignore this Leibniz, but the other
is of far greater logical importance.’
There followed Louis Couturat’s L a L o g iq u e d e L e ib n iz d 'a p r è s d e s D o c u m e n ts inédits. Paris
1901, in which an attempt is made to reconstruct the entire methodological structure, although
emphasis is once again laid upon Leibnitz’s deduction of analytical knowledge to the exclusion
of synthetic knowledge a p rio ri. In L e s P rin c ip e s d e M a th é m a tiq u e , Paris 1905, Couturat
further works out his view that with Hilbert modern mathematics has converted all arith
metical and geometrical propositions into analytical judgments; in these analytical terms Cou
turat establishes Leibnitz’s doctrine of 4 Panlogism ’. And it is characteristic of the age that
Couturat should preface his profound work with a motto from Leibnitz, ‘ C u m D e u s c a lc u la t . . .
f i t m u n d u s ’, omitting the ‘ e t c o g ita tio n e m e x e r c e t ' which is to be found in the original (cf.
G erh a rd t, M a th e m . vol. VII, p. 191 Note). By substituting ‘ enlightened man ’ for the ‘ D e u s '
of the above motto, subsequent generations, and especially the school of Diderot, continued
Leibnitz’s work along rationalistic lines. This train of thought is taken up by Max Bense, the
German editor of Diderot’s P e n sé e s su r l'In te r p r é ta tio n d e la N a tu r e (Weimar 1948); cf. especi
ally his L e ib n iz. Jena 1946, pp. 37 ff., and below, Note 93.
In Ernst Cassirer’s L e ib n ize n s S y s te m in seinen w issen sch a ftlich en G ru n d la g en , Marburg 1902,
the philosopher’s work is viewed after the fashion of the neo-Kantian school as a first state
ment of an ‘ idealism of creative reason ’, and Leibnitz’s conception of *individual substance ’
is seen as a law of constant changes, spontaneously at work in an infinite series of states of
consciousness.
Kuno Fischer’s thesis is once again taken up in two works by W. Kabitz: D ie P h ilo so p h ie d e s
ju n g e n L e ib n iz , U ntersu ch u n g en z u r E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te se in e s S y s te m s , Heidelberg 1909;
and ‘ D ie B ild u n g sg e sc h ic h te d e s ju n g e n L e ib n i z ', in: Z e its c h r ift f ü r G esch ich te d e r E rzie h u n g ,
Berlin 1912; cf. also Kabitz’s edition of Fischer’s G esch ich te d e r P h ilo so p h ie, Heidelberg 1920,
vol. III.
The studies of the subsequent period aim at elucidating the mystical and metaphysical aspect
of Leibnitz:
B. Tillmann: Leibniz’ V erh ä ltn is z u r R e n a issa n c e im A llg e m e in e n u n d z u N iz z o liu s im B e so n
d e re n , Bonn 1912.
W. Feilchenfeld: L e ib n iz u n d H e n r y M o r e . E in B e itr a g z u r E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te d e r M o n a
d o logie. In: K a n tstu d ie n , vol. XXVIII, 1923.
Jean Baruzi: 4 T ro is D ia lo g u es m y stiq u e s in é d its d e L e ib n iz \ In: R e v u e d e M é ta p h y siq u e e t de
M o r a le , vol. XIII, Paris 1905.
H. Heimsoeth: L e ib n ize n s W elta n sc h a u u n g a ls U rsprung se in e r G ed a n k e n w e lt. In: K a n t
stu d ie n XXII, 1917.
In Peter Petersen’s G esch ich te d e r a risto telisch en P h ilo so p h ie im p ro te sta n tis c h e n D eu tsch la n d ,
Leipzig 1921, Leibnitz’s work is seen as 4the summit of the Aristotelean scholasticism of Ger
man Protestantism ’.
This Protestant aspect is further developed by E. Troeltsch in his ‘ L e ib n iz u n d d ie A n fä n g e des
P ie tism u s ’ (1902), in: G e sa m m e lte S c h rifte n , Tübingen 1925, vol. IV, pp. 488-531; and by H.
Lehmann: 4N e u e E in b lic k e in d ie E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te d e r leib n izisch en P h ilo s o p h ie ’, in:
«Z e its c h r ift f ü r P h ilo so p h ie u n d p h ilo so p h isc h e K r itik , 1916, vol. CLXII.
In Opposition to this and especially to Cassirer’s idealistic interpretation, the following Catholic
study sees in Leibnitz’s work an attempted synthesis between the realist scholasticism of St.
Thomas and the subjective rationalism of Descartes’s new science: B. Jansen: L e ib n iz
e rk e n n tn isth e o re tisc h e r R e a list. G rundlinien se in e r E rk e n n tn isle h re , Berlin 1920.
F. X. Kiefl’s D e r F ried en sp la n d e s L e ib n iz z u r W ied erverein ig u n g d e r ch ristlich en K irc h e n ,
Paderborn 1903, gives a Catholic view of Leibnitz’s attempts at a reunion of the Churches,
which the writer considers dogmatically unacceptable.
The individual and personal nature of Leibnitz’s metaphysics in terms of the new school of
L e b e n sp h ilo so p h ie and the new psychology is brought out in such works as P. Sickel’s 4D ie U m
w and lu n g d e s S u b sta n zb e g riffs in d e r P h ilo so p h ie von L e i b n i z ', in: Z e its c h r ift f ü r P h ilosophie
u n d ph ilo so p h isc h e K r itik , 1916, vol. CLXII, and in his 4L e ib n iz u n d G oethe *, in: A r c h iv f ü r G e
sc h ic h te d e r P h ilo so p h ie, vol. XXXII; and C. Siegel: G eschichte d e r n euen N a tu rp h ilo so p h ie,
Leipzig 1923, points out that Leibnitz was the first to ‘ reduce the psychic and the physical to
N O T E S. IN T R O D U C T IO N 173
the common denominator of energy D. Mahnke’s L e ib n iz u n d G oethe, Erfurt 1924, and K.
Hildebrandt’s G oethe. S e in e W e ltw e ish e it im G e sa m tw e rk (2nd ed., Reclam), Leipzig 1942,
both regard the monad in terms of the Goethean concept of individual growth and psychic
expansion.
M. Dessoir’s G esch ich te d e r n eu eren d e u tsc h e n P sy c h o lo g ie , Berlin 1902, vol. I, contains an
account of Leibnitz’s philosophical thought in terms of Ges/u/z-psychology. The psychological
structure of his work is further worked out in P. Barth’s ‘ Z u L e ib n iz ' 200. T o d e sta g ’, in:
V iertelja h rssch rift f ü r w issen sch a ftlich e P h ilo so p h ie, 1916, vol. XL.
Jean Baruzi (L e ib n iz e t l'O rg a n isa tio n relig ieu se d e la T erre, Paris 1907, and ‘ L e ib n iz . A v e c
te x te s in é d its ', in: L a P e n sé e C h ré tie n n e , Paris 1909) observes in Leibnitz’s work a transition
from scientific thought to mysticism, making use in his argument of a number of previously
unpublished manuscripts in order to establish the ‘ irrational ’ element in Leibnitz’s ‘ ration
alism ’. Baruzi also attempts to solve the dichotomy of freedom and obligation—a central
problem in Leibnitz’s work—by discovering in him a mystical faith in a kind of religious deter
minism.
This argument is taken up by Catholic philosophy, and in particular by K. Buchheim, *L e ib n iz
in se in e r Z e i t ' , in: H o c h la n d , 1937, vol. XXXV, no. 6, where Leibnitz’s metaphysical solution
is seen as ‘ the strife of freedom against the supremacy of the method of formal logic ’.
7 Cf. above, in Bibliographical Note, and also Ravier, o p . cit.
8 Cf. H. Ritter, G esch ich te d e r c h ristlich en P h ilo so p h ie , Hamburg 1853, vol. XII, p. 49.
9 Cf. W. Windelband: G esch ich te d e r n eueren P h ilo so p h ie, Leipzig [1878], 5th ed. 1911, vol. I,
pp. 454 ff.
10 Cf. W. Wundt: L e ib n iz . Leipzig 1917.
11 Cf. W. Dilthey: L e ib n iz u n d se in Z e ita lte r . In: G e sa m m e lte S c h r ifte n , Berlin 1927, vol. III.
12 Cf. D. Mahnke: ‘ L e ib n ize n s S y n th e s e von U n iv e rs a lm a th e m a tik u n d In d iv id u a lm e ta p h y s ik '.
In: J a h rb u c h f ü r P h ilo so p h ie u n d p h ä n o m e n o lo g isc h e F orsch u n g . Halle 1925, vol. VII.
13 Cf. D. Mahnke: *E in e n e u e M o n a d o lo g ie ' . In: B e ih e fte z u d e n K a n tstu d ie n , No. 39, Berlin 1917.
14 Cf. H. Heimsoeth: D ie M e th o d e d e r E r k e n n tn is b e i D e sc a rte s u n d L e ib n iz . Giessen 1914, and:
D ie sech s g ro ssen T h e m e n d e r a b en d lä n d isch en M e ta p h y s ik . Berlin 1925.
15 Cf. H. Schmalenbach: L e ib n iz . München 1921.
16 Cf. S e c u rita s P u b lic a . . . in: A c a d e m y , IVth series, vol. I, § 5, p. 133.
17 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is, Book I, § 21, in: E rd m a n n , p. 211, L a n g le y , pp. 74-75.
PA R T I: T H E SEV EN TEEN TH -C EN TU RY CONTROVERSY
CHAPTER I
18 Cf. E rm a h n u n g an d ie T eu tsch en . . . In: K lo p p , vol. VI, p. 187.

19 For a methodology of postulating such a distinction, cf. Karl Jaspers, D ie g e is tig e S itu a tio n
d e r Z e i t , Berlin 1931, in particular p. 19: ‘ The being of man is placed, first, as existence in
economic, sociological and political situations. . . . The being of man is placed, secondly, as
consciousness within the sphere of all that can be known. Such historically acquired and
hence present knowledge becomes a human situation in terms of such clarity as man is capable
of, i.e. as culture. And the being of man is determined, thirdly, by the men he meets and by
all the tenets of the faiths which call for his commitment, i.e. by religion . . .’
20 Cf. P. Rassow: 'D ie K a ise r-Id e e K a rls V , d a rg e s te llt an d e r P o litik d e r J a h re 1528^0.’ In:
H isto ris c h e S tu d ie n , ed. F. Meinecke, Berlin 1932, No. 217.
CHAPTER II
21 Cf. R. H. Tawney, R e lig io n a n d th e R is e o f C a p ita lism (1926). Penguin ed. 1942, p. 195.
22 Leibnitz was acquainted with Richard Cumberland’s D e L e g ib u s n a tu ra e disq u isitio p h ilo so
p h ic a (London 1672, etc.), in which Hobbes’s political Cartesianism was attacked.
23 In: A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, p. 57; the chief passage runs as follows: ‘ It is well known
how c o n fu s e d are all legal matters both in the schools and in the law-courts, so much so that
neither may the former clearly discover what is right, nor the latter attain to it quickly. . . .
In truth, it may be boldly said that no one has seriously and expressly attempted to supply
these wants. We have so many methods, and yet there is no one capable of subsuming every
le x , p ro p o s itio , decisio or co n seq u en tia under the proper cause and reason whence it issues;
but this precisely would be the only way of cutting off the as it were luxuriating rays as with a
telescope, and of thus getting to the heart of the matter. We have so many C o m p en d ia [legal
text-books], and yet there is not one among them could boast that it contains the essence of
the whole C o rp u s Iu ris, so that in an emergency one might dispense with all the others (as
being derivative), and yet return a reliable judgment in all given cases, as to what is just accord
ing to the Common Roman Laws. Hence this entire work [i.e. Leibnitz’s own C o rp u s Iu ris
R e c o n c in n a tu m \ consists partly in a Quintessence of clear and brief laws, and in their Iu sti-
fic a tio . This Quintessence of Roman Laws, or E le m e n ta Iu r is R o m a n i hodieque a tten d en d i,
b revis e t c e rti, may consist in one sole Table the size of a large Dutch land-chart, wherein also
all chief rules are comprised, so that from their C o m b in a tio n all possible questions can be
decided, and the fu n d a m e n ta of all a ctio n es, e x c e p tio n e s, replicae etc., can be directly pointed
out as im ita m in e E d ic ti p e r p e tu i n o v i ; nor have such [plans] ever been attempted before, let
alone accomplished. The Iu s tific a tio of such Elements consists in the very words of the Roman
Laws themselves, which are arranged and distinguished according to these Elements and
deduced from them, and which in their turn provide it with a firm foundation. And it has two
grades, namely a N u c le u s L e g u m and the C o rp u s Iu r is R ec o n c in n a tu m itself. Both contain the
very words of the Laws, but there is this difference to be observed between them: the N u cleu s
is a C o m p e n d iu m of the words themselves; it is arranged in an unusual and yet singularly
easy manner, adding no word and taking many away. It extracts from the whole C orpus
only that which has truly n a tu r a m L e g is and vim no vi d isp o sitiva m , and juxtaposes this to the
T a b u la E le m e n to ru m , in order the more firmly to secure their foundation. The C orpus Iu ris
R e c o n c in n a tu m , on the other hand, neither adds nor takes away anything from the Laws,
but, retaining their every word, distributes all Laws not only in accordance with their Elements
and N u c le i, but, most important of all, as conclusiones, together with their due p rincipia, in
such a manner that each Law, or in some instance each P ara g ra p h u s, is to be subsumed under
a R e g u la in T a b u la E le m e n to ru m p o sita , on which it depends, and deduced thence. And thus
the C o rp u s presents also ra tio n e m L e g is , upon which its elu cid a tio and ex p la n a tio , e x te n sio
and restrictio clearly depend.
‘And all this, my Most Gracious Emperor and Master, has partly been accomplished already,
and partly is on the way to being completed.’
174
N O T E S. PA R T O N E 175
It will be observed that this plan develops much the same idea as that contained in the A r s
C o m b in a to ria of 1666.
24 A further working out of this parallel will be found in E. Hoffmann: D ie A u fk lä r u n g im 5.
J a h rh u n d e rt v. C hr. In: T eu b n ers Q u e lle n h e fte {Q u e lle n sa m m lu n g f ü r d en g e sc h ic h tlic h e n U n te r
ric h t . . .), Leipzig-Berlin n.d. 11/2. Both these periods of Enlightenment do in fact show a
number of common traits, of which the emphasis of the newly discovered ‘ common sense ’
upon education (observable in Hellas as clearly as in France and, a little later, in England) is
perhaps the most remarkable.
25 Cf. J. Chambon : D e r fr a n z ö s is c h e P ro te s ta n tism u s. S e in W e g b is z u r fr a n z ö s is c h e n R e v o lu tio n .
Zürich 1943, pp. 121 ff.
26 Cf. Letter to Bossuet, 8.4.1692, in: D u te n s , vol. I, p. 529.
27 Cf. Fénelon: L e s A v e n tu r e s d e T élém a q u e. Book X.
28 Cf. Julien Benda’s introduction to Œ u v re s d e L a B r u y è r e , Paris 1934: 4L e to u r n a n t h isto riq u e
m a rq u é p a r L a B ru y è re en ta n t q u 'é c riv a in p o litiq u e , ré sid e bien m o in s d a n s c e q u ’i l d it d e la
s o c ié té d e so n te m p s q u e d a n s sa c o n sta n te v o lo n té d 'e n p a r le r , d e f a i r e d e s p r o b lè m e s so c ia u x
la su b sta n c e d e se s ré fle x io n s. L 'a u te u r d e s Caractères n o u s p a r a ît le p ré c u rse u r , n u lle m e n t de
n o s révo lu tio n n a ires, m a is e x a c te m e n t d e c es sociétés de Pensée q u i d e v a ie n t é c lo re r un d e m i-
siè c le a p rè s lui, e t q u i o n t c h a n g é l'o r d r e é ta b li n o n p a s p a r c e q u 'e lle s ré so lu re n t d e le changer,
m a is p a r c e q u 'e lle s c ré è re n t c h e z le s F ra n ça is l'h a b itu d e d e le p re n d r e p o u r t e x t e fa v o r i d e leurs
e n tre tie n s, d e leu rs c u rio sité s, d e leu rs ra iso n n e m e n ts .'
29 Cf. Œ u v re s vol.
III, p. 49: R e m a r q u e s su r un livre in titu lé 4N o u v e a u x In te r e s ts d e s P rin c e s de
l'E u r o p e 1685; cf. also G u h ra u er vol. I, p. 32 (Supplement), and Leibnitz’s letter to Tenzel,
1694, in op. cit., vol. II, p. 466.
30 Cf. K lo p p , vol. Ill, p. 59.
31 Cf. C. Thomasius, V on d e r N a c h a h m u n g d e r F ra n tzo se n , Leipzig 1687.
32 Quoted from P. Hazard: L a C rise d e la C o n scien ce E u ro p é e n n e , Paris 1935 (Ed. Boivin in 1
vol.), p. 61. Cf. G. Natali: I l S e tte c e n to . Milano 1929, pp. 68 ff.
33 Already Richelieu had recognized the connection obtaining between the political and cultural
spheres of interest. Hence he writes to the King 4 that it is one of the most splendid signs of
the welfare of a State when the sciences and arts flourish and Letters are honoured as much as
Arms .’
34 Cf. Pierre Bayle: N o u v e lle s d e la R é p u b liq u e d e s L e ttr e s , 1685, Chapter V, § 2.
35 William of Orange was the most outstanding of the politicians who were endeavouring to
maintain the balance of power. The money voted by Parliament for the War of the Spanish
Succession was voted for the express purpose of maintaining the balance of power, and the
Peace of Utrecht of 1713, with which the War was concluded, was in fact a vindication of his
policy; for Spain, the main point of contention, and her Colonies, were annexed neither by
France nor by the Hapsburgs, but remained independent. The European possessions of Spain
were divided among the successor-states, so that no one side of the balance outweighed the
other.
For Leibnitz the Peace of Utrecht was a great disappointment, because he stood for a restora
tion of the 4 Empire *. His attempts (in Vienna) to connect the issue of the War of the Spanish
Succession with the issue of the Scandinavian War remained unsuccessful, and it seems that
the Emperor never heard of his memoranda on this matter. Cf. Fransen, op. c it. in Note 3.
36 Cf. E in ig e p o litisc h e G e d a n k e n . . . 1670, in A cadem y IVth series, vol. I, no. 30, p. 498.
37 U nvorgreifliche G e d a n cken b e tr e ffe n d d ie A u sü b u n g u n d V erbesserung d e r T eu tsch en S p ra c h e ,
ed. by P. Pietsch, in: W isse n sc h a ftlic h e B e ih e fte z u r Z e its c h r ift d e s a llg e m e in e n d e u tsc h e n
S p ra c h v e re in s. IVth series, No. 29, Berlin 1907.
38 Cf. M. Fierz: 4Isa a c N e w to n . S e in C h a r a k te r u n d se in e W e lta n s ic h t' in: V ie rte lja h rssc h rift
d e r N a tu rfo rsc h e n d e n G e se llsc h a ft, in Z ü r ic h , vol. LXXXVIII, 1943; Fierz quotes Newton’s
letter to Halley, 20.6.1686: 4 Philosophy is such an impertinently litigious Lady, that a man
had as good be engaged in lawsuits, as have to do with her. I found it so formerly, and now
I am no sooner come near her again, but she gives me warning.’ (Cf. Sir David Brewster:
L ife o f S ir Is a a c N e w to n . Edinburgh 1855, Appendix VIII, p. 441.) After publishing his optical
research in the P h ilo so p h ic a l T ra n sa c tio n s o f th e R o y a l S o c ie ty , Newton wrote to Oldenburg
on the 18th November 1676: 4 1 see I have made myself a slave to philosophy, but if I get free
of Mr. Linus’s business I will resolutely bid adieu to it eternally, excepting what I do for my
private satisfaction, or leave to come out after me; for I see a man must either resolve to put
out nothing new, or to become a slave to defend it.’ (Quoted from: L. T. More: Isa a c N e w to n .
New York and London 1934, p. 91; cf. also the M a c c le sfie ld C o llectio n , ed. Rigaud, Oxford
1841, vol. II, p. 405.)
39 Cf. Fierz, op. c it. pp. 209 ff.
‘ Neither party gained any laurels in this dispute. Newton was incapable of seeing in any way
the merits of the many-sided and busy Leibnitz who was constantly looking out for new prob
lems. Indeed, in his heart of hearts Newton despised him. . . . Leibnitz, on the other hand,
allowed himself to be carried by Newton’s unjust reproaches to actions which damaged his
case and even stained his honour. Furthermore, he frequently misunderstood the situation,
for in spite of his many connections in the international world, he was curiously lacking in
his judgment of men. In old age he found that each one of his plans had miscarried. Newton
appeared as the very opposite.. . . For as time went on he was more and more honoured and
admired by his contemporaries, until, in his old age, he had become a true national hero___*
A reliable and full chronological account of the unhappy controversy will be found in: F.
Dessauer: W e ltfa h r t d e r E r k e n n tn is . L e b e n u n d W e r k Isa a c N e w to n s. Zürich 1945, especially
Notes on pp. 355-365.
40 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is . . . , Chapter XVI, E rd m a n n , pp. 386-387, L a n g le y , pp. 534-536.
CHAPTER III
41 Cf. John Toland: A d e isid a im o n , Dublin 1709, p. 68; quoted in P. Hazard, op. cit. p. 298.
42 Cf. Introduction to L e ib n iz ' H a u p tw e r k e , ed. by G. Krüger, Stuttgart 1933:
‘ It would be wrong to think of the shaping of the modern mind as a process of maturing or
[as Kant had described it] of a gradual emerging from the bonds of minority. On the contrary,
this shaping was effected by a revolutionary rejection of authority, an act which forced men
explicitly to ascertain their own powers and abilities.’
43 Cf. Charles Adam: V ie e t Œ u v re s d e D e sc a rte s. Paris 1910.
According to this theory the world is carried round the sun by an ‘ hydro-dynamic vortex ’.
But as, from the point of view of the aether-particles surrounding it, the world is at rest, Des
cartes could believe that he was not challenging the Church’s doctrine.
44 Cf. J. Huizinga: P a re rg a . Basle 1945, p. 152:
‘ Descartes’s main tenet is anti-historical. He scorns and rejects history as a mode of know
ledge; it can give no more than blurred pictures. The past, he asserts, is done for. The wisdom
of ages, sacred until his day, has lost its splendour.’
45 Cf. D u te n s, vol. VI part I, pp. 237 ff.; E rd m a n n p. 193. The argument is taken from a letter
to Bayle, 1702:
' C 'e s t a vec g ra n d e raison, q u 'o n a d m ire, M o n s ie u r, q u e les rech erch es im m e n se s d e fa i ts , que
vous a v e z fa i te s , n 'o n t p o in t f a i t d e to r t à vos b elles ré fle x io n s su r ce q u ’i l y a d e p lu s p ro fo n d
d e la p h ilo s o p h ie .. . . J 'a i a s s e z tra v a illé à l'h isto ir e d 'A lle m a g n e . . . ce q u i m 'a m ê m e fo u r n i q u e l
q u e s o b serva tio n s a p p a rte n a n te s à l'h isto ir e universelle. A in s i j ' a i a ppris à n e p o in t n ég lig er la
con n o issa n ce des fa its . M a is s i j'a v o is le c h o ix , je p ré fé re ro is l'h isto ir e n a tu re lle à la civile e t
les c o u tu m e s e t lo ix , q u e D ie u a é ta b lie s da n s la n a tu re , à ce q u i s'o b se rv e p a r m i le s h o m m e s.'
46 This process of abstraction may be observed very clearly in Kepler’s work. In his first work,
M y s te r iu m C o sm o g ra p h icu m , he discusses the stars as animated beings, kept in circular motion
by guiding ‘ intelligences ’. But mathematics forces him to *pass on from the realm of the
spirit to the realm of Nature ’. And he now endeavours to explain the Universe not in terms
of a divine being (that is, astrologically), but in clock-work fashion. And this modern way of
thought inspires also the young Leibnitz. His admiration for Kepler is well known; frequently
he calls him ‘ a Prince of Astronomy’. (Cf. T h eo d icy, § 380: ‘ K e p le r, M a th é m a tic ie n m o d ern e
d e s p lu s e x c e lle n s . . .’ in E rd m a n n , p. 614.) Leibnitz is also anxious that none of Kepler’s un
published writings should be lost. (Cf. T h e o d ic y § 360, E rd m a n n , p. 608, and A c a d e m y , IVth series,
vol. I, p. 545, § 9: ‘There is no doubt that, except for the achievements of the Arabs, astronomy
owes its resurrection to Regiomontanus and Copernicus. Tycho de Brahe, too, although a
Dane, belongs to this company; and Keplerus, his disciple and heir to his glory, as it were rules
this entire science.’)
47 Voetius (also a correspondent of Leibnitz) claims that the Cartesians are unbelievers and
revolutionaries; he hopes to brand them all (and especially Regius) as atheists and to expel
them from the Netherlands. Everybody is to help in this campaign: the people, the officials,
N O T E S. PART ONE 177
the Churches and the Universities. His campaign becomes more and more violent, his ad
herents grow in numbers, until at last the matter comes into a court of law. Descartes’s own
safety appears threatened—it will be recalled how often, during his stay in Holland, he changed
his place of residence. In Utrecht people believe that he is guilty of slandering Voetius. Cf.
Baillet: L a V ie d e M . D e sc a rte s, Paris 1694.
48 Cf. L e s P a ssio n s d e V A m e , §§ 154-157.
49 Cf. C o n fessio N a tu r a e c o n tra A th e is ta s , in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 494 ff.
50 Cf. C o u tu ra t, p. 506.
51 Cf. D isc o u rs d e la M é ta p h y siq u e § 4, in G e rh a rd t , vol. IV, p. 430.
52 It will be recalled that upon discovering his ‘ scien ce a d m ira b le * in November 1619, Descartes
dedicated it to the Blessed Virgin Mary, vowing to go on a pilgrimage if he were enabled to
conclude his enquiry successfully; this vow he later kept.
53 Cf. Pascal’s P en sées, ed. L. Brunschvicg, Paris 1897 and 1904, no. 76.
54 P. Hazard, o p . cit. Chapter III.
55 The term ‘ P y rrh o n ie n ' was introduced by Samuel Sorbière, a pupil of La Mothe le Vayer’s
and translator of the H y p o th e s e s P y rrh o n e a e of Sextus Empiricus.
56 Leibnitz uses the image of a to r r e n t in his essay V on d e r A llm a c h t G o tte s (‘ On the Omnipo
tence of God ’) § 4, in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, p. 537:
‘ We Christians were neither able to dam this torrent on our own nor, once it had broken in
on us, to make use of it for our own ends; but, according to our evil custom of discussing
all scholastic questions in the pulpit, we informed the people of it all and thus gave rise to
many se c ts, so that a c ra c k appeared beneath us.’
57 Cf. François Bernier, R e q u ê te d e s M a îtr e s d e s A r ts , 1671. Bernier spent his life travelling all
over the world and returned to France with the discovery that people everywhere are very
little different from their neighbours; to Louis XIV’s question where, to his mind, people
lived most happily he replied, in Switzerland. Later on he became a member of the circle of
Mme de Lenclos, where he philosophized about his experiences. Bernier is a typical repre
sentative of the lib ertin . Cf. F. Strowski, H is to ir e d u se n tim e n t r e lig ie u x e n F ra n ce a u X V I l e
S iè c le , Paris 1907.
Cf. also J. Huizinga, op. c it., p. 154: ‘ Even in the sa lo n s of the age the tone of the conversation
was dominated by the new science. For evidence we have only to think of Fontenelle’s E n tr e
tie n s su r la P lu r a lité d e s M o n d e s of 1686, which was followed later [in 1733] by Algarotti’s
N e w to n ia s m o p e r le d onne, and later still by Euler’s L e ttr e s à u n e P rin c e sse d e V A lle m a g n e
[1768].’
58 Cf. letter to the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse, 1682* in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, p. 532.
59 ib. p. 535 : ‘ A p ro p o s d e S p in o sa , q u e M o n s . A r n a u ld a p p elle le p lu s im p ie e t d a n g é re u x h o m m e
d e ce siè c le ; i l é ta it v é rita b le m e n t a th é e , c 'e s t-à -d ire i l n 'a d m e tta it p o in t d e P ro v id e n c e d ispença-
trice d e s b ien s e t d e s m a u x , su iv a n t la ju s tic e e t e n c ro y a it a v o ir d é m o n stra tio n . L e D ie u d o n t
il f a i t p a r a d e n 'e s t p a s c o m m e le n o stre .'
60 Cf. G. Friedmann : ‘ S p in o z a , S c a n d a le d e so n te m p s .' In: R e v u e d e M é ta p h y siq u e e t d e M o r a le ,
Paris, January 1946.
61 Cf. Letter to Jacob Thomasius, 23.9.1670, in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, p. 66: ‘ V idi n u p er
p r o g r a m m a L ip sie n se , h a u d d u b ie tu u m , q u o lib e llu m in to le ra b ilite r lic e n tio su m , d e lib e rta te
p h ilo so p h a n d i, p r o eo a c m e re b a tu r, tra c ta sti. V id e tu r a u c to r non ta n tu m p o litic u m , s e d e t reli
g io n e m H o b b ia n a m se c ta ri, q u a m is in L e u ia th a n e su o , m o n stru o so , v e l titu li indicio, op ere sic
s a tis d elin e a v it.'
62 I.e. of 1668, cf. above, Note 49.
C o n fessio N a tu r a e c o n tra A th e is ta s
63 Cf.Daniel Huet: C ensura p h ilo so p h ia e C a rtesia n a e, Paris 1689.
64 Cf.letter to Bourguet, 1714, in G erh a rd t, vol. Ill, p. 575.
65 Cf.L. Stein: L e ib n iz u n d -S p in o z a . Berlin 1890, Introduction.
66 Cf.G. Friedmann, op. cit.
67 Cf. D e m o n stra tio n u m C a th o lic a ru m C o n sp e c tu s of 1668, and especially the treatise D e m o n
stra tio p o ss ib ilita tis m y ste r io ru m E u c h a ristia e , in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 501-517.
68 Pascal’s P e n sé e s were published posthumously by the Jansenist Nicole, a friend of Leibnitz.
Pascal’s mystical experience was formulated in the famous note of 23.11.1654. The essence
of Jansenism is to claim that, in spite of the transcendent nature of God, a soul may even in
this world become certain of its salvation. Leibnitz’s speculation on the infinitesimal calculus
is in a sense the rationalist complement of this view, for here too the infinite distance between
God and the world, the radical difference between Creator and creature, appears suspended.
69 Pierre Bayle considered Malebranche and Arnauld to be the world’s greatest philosophers.
Of the T ra ité d e la N a tu r e e t d e la G râce he says that it is *l'o u v ra g e d 'u n g é n ie su p érieu r et
l'u n d e s p lu s g ra n d s e ffo r ts de l'e s p r it h u m a in '. (Cf. R é p o n se a u x q u e stio n s d 'u n P rovincial,
IIÏ/CLI.)
Leibnitz at first shared this view, but the very first letters of 1677 show a profound disagree
ment respecting the Cartesian concept of extension. Cf. A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, pp. 430 ff.
70 Cf. A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 494 ff.
71 Cf. Pascal, P en sées, § 542: 'L e s p re u v e s d e D ie u m é ta p h y siq u e s so n t s i élo ig n ées d u ra iso n n e
m e n t d e s h o m m e s e t s i im p liq u ées, q u 'e lle s fr a p p e n t p e u : e t q u a n d cela se rv ira it à quelques-uns,
cela n e se rv ira it q u e p e n d a n t l'in s ta n t q u 'ils v o ie n t c e tte d ém o n stra tio n , m a is une heu re a p rès
ils cra ig n en t d e s 'ê tr e tr o m p é s '
72 Cf. letter to the Landgrave of Hesse, 1682, in A c a d e m y Und. series, vol. I, p. 553.
73 Cf. letter to M. Rémond de Montmort, 14.3.1714:
‘ C 'e s t d o m m a g e q u e M r . P a sc a l, esp rit trè s-m a th é m a tiq u e e t tr è s-m é ta p h y siq u e en m ê m e tem p s,
se so it a ffo ib li d e tro p bo n n e h eu re, c o m m e M r . H u y g e n s m e l'a ra c o n té a u tre fo is, p a r c erta in s
tr a v a u x tro p o p in iâ tres, e t p a r trop d 'a p p lic a tio n à d e s o u vra g es Théologiques, q u i lu i p o u v o ie n t
p ro c u re r V a p la u d issem en t d 'u n g r a n d p a r ti, s 'i l le s a v o it achevés. I l d o n n a m ê m e da n s d e s a u sté
r ité s q u i ne p o u v o ie n t ê tr e fa v o r a b le s a u x m é d ita tio n s relevées , e t en co r m o in s à sa sa n té . M r .
. P e rie r, so n neveu, m e d o n n a un jo u r à lire e t à ra n g e r un e x c e lle n t o u vra g e d e so n o n cle su r les
coniques, e t j'e s p é r o is q u 'o n le p u b lie ro it d 'a b o rd . O n lu i a u ro it co n se rv é p a r-là l'h o n n e u r d 'o r i
g in a l, en d e s ch o ses q u i en valoient la p e in e .' {E rd m a n n p. 703.)
The ‘ enlightened * Leibnitz had no understanding sympathy at all for mysticism and asceti
cism. In his old age, on the threshold of a moralist-rationalist century, he was utterly estranged
from the experiences of his own youth.
74 Cf. A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 447 and 489, where Leibnitz speaks of ‘ d o c tissim u s H o b b e s '.
75 Cf. Francisque Bouiller: ‘ A v e c S a in t A u g u stin , e t p a r S a in t A u g u stin , l'O r a to ir e g o û te P la to n '.
In: H is to ir e d e la p h ilo so p h ie ca rtésien n e , vol. II, pp. 12-13. Cf. also D ic tio n n a ire T héologique
C atholique, vol. XI, p. 1134: ‘ A u g u stin ie n en théo lo g ie, le P è re d e B é ru lle [founder of the
French Oratorians] é ta it P la to n ic ie n e n p h ilo so p h ie .'
76 Cf. M é d ita tio n s su r la connaissance, la v é rité e t le s idées, 1684, in D u te n s , vol. II, p. 14, and
E rd m a n n , pp. 79-81.
77 Ib .
78 Leibnitz commissioned Tschirnhaus to send him a copy of this work, which Tschimhaus
despatched to Hanover 16.11.1676; cf. A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 132, pp. 277 ff.
79 Cf. W. Wundt: L e ib n iz , p. 79: ‘ Leibnitz’s age may well be called the critical age of the con
cept of substance ’.
80 In a letter to Rémond of 10.1.1714, Leibnitz writes: 4 Having freed myself from the trivial
philosophy of the Schools I now happened upon the Moderns, and I well remember that at
the age of fifteen I was walking in a little wood near Leipzig, which they call Rosenthal,
considering in my mind whether I was to retain the substantial forms. At last m e c h a n ism won
the day and caused me to devote myself to mathematics, whose fundamentals, however, I
did not apprehend until my intercourse with Huygens in Paris.’ {G erhardt vol. Ill, p. 606,
E rd m a n n p. 702.)
81 Cf. Von d e r A llm a c h t u n d A llw isse n h e it G o tte s u n d d e r F re ih e it d e s M e n sc h e n (1670-1671?),
in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, no. 20, pp. 537 ff.: ‘ § 1. Of all the questions which confuse
Mankind there is none that has been asked with more heat, more frequently repeated, more
recklessly and cruelly pursued than this Controversy: How the Free Will of Man, his punish
ment and reward, can be compatible [wie m it d e r a ll m a c h t. . . d e r F re y e W ille . . . steh en k ö n n e ]
with the omnipotence and omniscience of the universally ruling God . . .
‘ § 4. Here especially men have been divided; no Comet, Earthquake or Plague has done more
harm; here laziness has found its refuge, malice its true colour, and God Himself has had to
serve as a cloak for both. . . .
‘ § 5. [Among the many doctrines] the following have especially attracted notice: [the doctrine
of] the two Origins, which the Manichæans teach ; the Commingling of Something and Nothing,
of light and darkness, in which the Platonic Christians believe, explaining it as the shining
into each other of two triangles [whose bases are] parallel [and whose apices] oppose each
other; Origen’s compassion on the devil and the damned; the Pelagians’ pride and the Semi-
Pelagians’ cunning; the Massilians’ obstinacy; the Scholastics’ subterfuges; and last of all
the recent, only too well known agitations of the world, in which F a tu m , P ra e d e stin a tio , L ib e r u m
S e rv u m q u e a rb itriu m , N e c e ssita s, G ra tia re sistib ilis v e l irresistib ilis, p ra e v e n ie n s v e l subsequens,
A u x ilia g ra tia e , S c ie n tia M e d ia , C o n cu rsu s D E I c u m C re a tu ris, D e c r e ta a b a e te rn o , V o lu n ta s
a n tece d en s a t C onsequens, a b so lu ta e t H y p o th e tic a , S u p ra -L a p sa rii e t In fra -L a p s a rii (and what
ever other names there are for all these confusions) have entered the field with blood-stained
standards.
‘ § 6. I say once again that these names confound everything, that their misuse and countless
twisted interpretations have led Christendom into an endless labyrinth, that in explaining
these words (which cannot be read without a feeling of shame and pity) no man agrees with
his neighbour, that, in fine, no-one understands, or wishes to understand, the other. . . .’
82 Cf. letter to Amauld 28.11-8.12.1686, in G e rh a rd t vol. Il, p. 77: ‘ . . . N o u s s o m m e s o bligés
d 'a d m e ttr e bien d e s choses d o n t la con n o issa n ce n 'e s t p a s a s s e z c la ire e t d istin c te . J e tie n s que
celle d e l'é te n d u e l'e s t e n c o r b ie n m o in s, té m o in le s e stra n g e s d iffic u lté s d e la c o m p o sitio n du
c o n tin u ; e t on p e u t m ê m e s d ire q u 'il n 'y a p o in t d e figure arrestée et précise da n s les co rp s à
ca u se d e la subdivision actuelle des parties. D e so r te q u e les co rp s se ro ie n t sa n s d o u te quelque
chose d’imaginaire et d’apparent seulement, s 'i l n 'y a v o it q u e d e la matière e t se s modifications.’
83 Cf. letter to Arnauld, April 1687: ‘ J e n 'o s e d o n c p a s e n c o re a sseu rer, q u e les a n im a u x seu ls
so n t vivons e t doués d 'u n e fo r m e su b sta n tie lle . E t p e u te s tr e q u 'il y a une in fin ité d e d eg rés da n s
les fo r m e s d e s su b sta n c e s c o rp o relles.' {G erhardt, vol. II, p. 92.)
A full statement of the method of interpolation will be found in the T h eo ria m o tu s a b stra c ti,
where the following definition is given as the fifth of the fu n d a m e n ta p ra e d e m o n stra b ilia (cf.
G erh a rd t: M a th e m . vol. II, p. 68): ‘ P u n c tu m non e s t cu ju s p a r s n u lla e st, n e c cu ju s p a r s non
c o n sid e ra tu r; s e d cu ju s e x te n sio n ulla e st, se u cu ju s p a r te s su n t in d ista n te s, cu ju s m a g n itu d o
e s t inconsiderabilis, in a ssig n a b ilis m in o r q u a m q u a e ra tio n e, n is i in fin ita a d a lia m sen sib ilem
e x p o n i p o s s it, m in o r q u a m q u a e d a ri p o t e s t ' It seems unlikely that this is the actual argument
which led Leibnitz to the discovery of the infinitesimal calculus (as has been sometimes asserted).
It seems more likely to be merely a re-statement of the methods of Cavalieri, Mercator and
Wallis, which Leibnitz is certain to have known well by 1671. The actual date of the discovery
is 29.10.1675; it has been determined by Cantor and verified independently by Mahnke, Hof
mann and others.
84 Cf. T h e o d ic y , § 348, in E rd m a n n , p. 605: 4J 'a i en core f a i t vo ir q u 'il s 'y o b serve c e tte b e lle lo i
d e la co n tin u ité, q u e j ' a i p e u t- ê tr e m is le p r e m ie r en a v a n t, e t q u i e s t une esp èce d e p ie r r e d e
to u c h e .' But it is in the works of Thomas and Aristotle that he encounters this problem. For
a time he sees in Aristotle’s C o n tin u u m a valid refutation of Gassendi and his followers; cf.
his letter to Thomasius, 1669, 'n a m co n tin u a d e fin it A r is to te le s, oiv xa sc^axa ev.’ {E rd m a n n
p. 49.) Cf. his letter to Arnauld of April 1687, G erh a rd t vol. II, p. 92, quoted above, note 83.
85 In Descartes’s work we still find such terms as *fundamental lines ’, while the term ‘ co-ordi
nates ’ and its combinations derives from Leibnitz (1690), as does also the term 4function ’,
which first occurs in his M e th o d u s ta n g e n tia ru m in versa se u d e F u n ctio n ib u s of 1673. Newton’s
term for ‘ variables ’ is 'g e n i t a ', i.e. 4created [concepts]’.
86 Newton’s theory of fluxions works not with the geometrical conception of function, but with
the conception of velocity continuously variable in time; the conception of a moving point
in space can easily be interpreted, it seems, in terms of changes of velocity. In Newton’s method
the conception of continuous time constitutes a metaphysical presupposition, which is at the
basis of his entire natural philosophy; hence the idea of a moving point in space issues directly
in the idea of changes of velocity. Leibnitz’s differential conception, on the other hand, is
founded in geometry; its differential coefficient is formed by determining the relation of the
sections of ordinates in a 4 tria n g u lu m c a ra c te ris tic u m ’; and this differential method is more
favourable as a starting point of a fully worked out and comprehensive theory of algorism.
In the course of this work it was the concept of an absolute and invariable limiting value deter
mined by this triangle, which proved so useful, because it and the notation which it served to
establish led to further differential functions, which were formed analogously. But in order
to establish this value the idea of something a b so lu te ly s m a ll had to be replaced by a re la tiv e
idea. And this in its turn arose as a necessary consequence of the attempt to find a proper
notation for the change of slope of a curve. As soon as Leibnitz recognized the change of
slope of this function as a concrete image of the second coefficient (1676), he could not fail
to see that the operation could be repeated an unlimited number of times. For the story of
Leibnitz’s discovery, cf. M. Tramer: D ie E n td e c k u n g u n d B eg rü n d u n g d e r D iffe re n tia l- u n d
In teg ra lrech n u n g durch L e ib n iz. Berlin 1906, and also D. Mahnke: ‘ N e u e E in b lic k e in die
E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te d e r h ö h eren A n a ly s is * , Berlin 1926, in: A b h a n d lu n g e n d e r P reussischen
A k a d e m ie d e r W isse n sc h a fte n , vol. for 1925, no. 1. For a more recent work, cf. J. E. Hofmann:
‘ D a s O p u s G e o m e tric u m d e s G regorius a S . V incentio u n d se in e E in w ir k u n g a u f L e ib n iz '. In:
A b h a n d lu n g e n . . . vol. for 1941, no. 13.
87 Cf. his letter to Elizabeth, Countess Palatine, of 1678, in A c a d e m y Und series vol. I, no. 191,
p. 434: ‘ J e p ré te n d s d o n c q u 'il y a en co r une to u te a u tre a n a ly se en G é o m é trie q u e celles d e
V iète e t d e d e s C a rte s: q u i ne sça u ro ien t a lle r a ssés a v a n t, p u is q u e les p ro b lè m e s les p lu s im p o rta n s
n e d é p e n d e n t p o in t d e s éq u a tio n s, a u x q u elles se ré d u it to u te la G é o m é trie d e M . d e s C artes.
L u y m ê m e non o b sta n t ce q u 'il a v o it a v a n c é un p e u trop h a rd im e n t da n s sa G éo m étrie (sçavoir
q u e to u s les p ro b lè m e s se re d u iso ien t à se s éq u a tio n s e t à ses lignes courbés) a e s té co n tra in t de
re co n n o istre ce d é fa u t da n s une d e se s lettres, c a r M . d e B e a u n e lu y a y a n t p r o p o s é un d e ces
estra n g es m a is im p o rta n s p ro b lè m e s Methodi Tangentium inversae, i l avo u a q u 'il n 'y vo yo it
p a s en co r a ssés clair. E t j ' a y tr o u v é p a r b o n h eu r que ce m ê m e p ro b lè m e p o u rr a e stre résolue
en tro is lignes p a r l'a n a ly se n o u velle d o n t j e m e sers.'
Again and again Leibnitz asserts ‘ how narrow and limited is M. des Cartes’s geometry
writing in a polemical vein as if Descartes were still alive. As for Hobbes and Malebranche,
‘ I could not help laughing ’, he writes on another occasion, ‘ when I saw that they take Algebra
to be the greatest and most sublime of the sciences.’
88 Cf. the letter to Elizabeth, Countess Palatine, quoted above. In the O p u scu les will be found the
fullest statements of Leibnitz’s views on a C a ra c te ristic a universalis. It is in such passages as
the following that Leibnitz sees in his idea of combining mathematics with metaphysics a
discovery of fundamental importance:
' . . . I l e s t m a n ife s te , q u e s i l'o n p o u v o it tro u ver d e s c a ra ctères o u sig n es p ro p r e s à e x p rim e r
to u te s les p e n sé e s, a u ssi n e tte m e n t e t e x a c te m e n t q u e l'a rith m é tiq u e e x p r im e les n o m b re s , ou
q u e . . . l'a n a ly se g é o m é triq u e e x p r im e les lignes, on p o u rr o it fa ir e en to u te s les m a tiè re s a u ta n t
q u 'e lle s so n t su je tte s au ra iso n n e m e n t to u t ce q u 'o n p e u t fa i r e en A r ith m é tiq u e e t e n G éo m étrie.
C a r to u te s les rech erch es d é p e n d a n t du ra iso n n e m e n t se fe r a ie n t p a r la tra n sp o sitio n d e ces
c a ra ctères e t p a r u n e esp èce d e ca lc u l.' ( C o u tu ra t p. 155.)
The problem is stated even more clearly in another fragment called P r o je t d 'u n A r t d 'in v e n te r,
of 1686 (C o u tu ra t pp. 180 ff.): ‘ L e d é fa u t le p lu s g é n é ra l, e t d o n t E u c lid e m ê m e n 'e s t p a s e x e m t,
c 'e s t, q u 'o n su p p o se des a x io m e s q u 'o n p o u rr o it d é m o n stre r. I l e s t vra y q u e ce d é fa u t ne n u it p a s
à la c e rtitu d e , q u a n d c es a x io m e s so n t ju s tifié s p a r une in fin ité d 'e x p é r ie n c e s c o m m e le so n t c e u x
d e s M a th é m a tic ie n s. M a is ce d é fa u t n u it à la p e r fe c tio n d e l'e s p r it e t c 'e s t la p rin c ip a le raison
p o u rq u o y la sy n th è se d e s G é o m è tre s n 'a p u e stre c h a n g é en core e n A n a ly se . O n s'é to n n e ra p e u t-
e stre d e ce q u e j e d is ic y , m a is il f a u t sça vo ir q u e l'A lg è b r e d e V iè te e t d e des C a rte s e s t p lu s-
to s t l'A n a ly s e d e s N o m b r e s q u e d e s lignes: q u o y q u 'o n y réd u ise la G éo m étrie in d ire c te m e n t, en
ta n t q u e to u te s les g ra n d e u rs p e u v e n t être e x p rim é e s p a r N o m b r e s ; m a is cela o b lig e so u v e n t à
d e s g ra n d s d étours, e t so u v e n t les G é o m è tre s p e u v e n t d é m o n stre r e n p e u d e m o ts, ce q u i e s t f o r t
lo n g p a r la v o y e d u ca lcu l.'
89 The relation of concrete intuition to abstract knowledge has always been a major issue in the
history of science; cf. Max Planck: D ie S te llu n g d e r n eueren P h y s ik z u r m ech a n isch en N a tu r
a n schauung. Leipzig 1910.
In a letter to Varignon of 2.2.1702 Leibnitz explains the concept of continuity as follows (in:
D u te n s vol. Ill, p. 372): ‘ C e p e n d a n t on p e u t d ire en g é n é ra l , q u e to u te la c o n tin u ité e s t une chose
id éa le; e s t q u 'il n 'y a ja m a is rien da n s la n a tu re, q u i a it d e s p a rtie s p a r fa ite m e n t u n ifo rm e s: m a is en
réco m p en se le réel n e laisse p a s d e se g o u v e rn e r p a r fa ite m e n t p a r /’idéal e t /’abstrait; e t il se
tro u ve q u e les R è g le s d u fini réu ssissen t da n s / ’infini, c o m m e s 'i l y a v o it d e s Atomes (c 'e st-à -d ire ,
d e s élé m e n s assig n a b les d e la m a tiè re ), q u o iq u 'il n 'y en a it p o in t , la m a tiè r e é ta n t a c tu e lle m e n t
sous-divisible sa n s fin , e t q u e vice versâ le s R è g le s d e l'in fin i réu ssissen t da n s le fini, co m m e s 'i l y
a v o it des in fin im e n t p e tits M é ta p h y siq u e s, qu o iq u 'o n n 'e n a it p o in t besoin, e t q u e la division de
la m a tiè r e n e p a rv ie n n e ja m a is à d e s p a rc e lle s in fin im e n t p e tite s .' (For the Latin text of this
letter, cf. also G e rh a rd t: M a th e m . vol. IV, p. 94.)
90 Cf. letter to Gabriel Wagner, V o m N u tz e n d e r V e rn u n ftk u n st o d er L o g ik , 1696, in E rd m a n n
pp. 418 ff., esp. p. 421.
91 Cf. T h eo d icy § 31, E rd m a n n p. 488. In one of the many drafts of the A r s In ven ien d i Leibnitz writes
(iC o u tu ra t p. 157): ‘ C 'e s t une d e m e s a m b itio n s d e venir à b o u t d e ce p r o je t s i D ie u m e donne
la vie. J e ne le d o is q u 'à m o i, e t j 'e n a y e u la p re m iè r e p e n sé e à l'a a g e d e 18 a n s c o m m e j ' a i té
m o ig n é un p e u a p rè s da n s un d iscours im p rim é [i.e. D e A r te C o m b in a to ria , 1666]. E t c o m m e j e
su is a ssu ré q u 'il n 'y a p o in t d 'in v e n tio n q u i ap p ro ch e à celle c y , j e c ro y q u 'il n 'y a rien d e s i capable
N O T E S. PA R T ON E 181
d 'é te rn is e r le n o m d 'in v e n te u r. M a is j ' a i d e s raisons bien p lu s fo r te s d 'y p en ser, car la religion
q u e j e su is e x a c te m e n t, m 'a sse u re q u e l'a m o u r d e D ie u co n siste da n s un d ésir a rd e n t d e p ro c u r e r
le bien g é n é ra l, e t la raison m 'a p p r e n d q u 'il n 'y a rien q u i co n trib u e d 'a v a n ta g e au bien g é n é ra l
d e to u s les h o m m e s q u e ce q u i la p e rfe c tio n n e .'
92 It was not until Couturat’s great editorial achievement was accomplished that an adequate
idea of Leibnitz’s S c ie n tia U niversalis could be formed. A full list of the relevant fragments
will be found both in his L o g iq u e d e L e ib n iz and in his edition of the O p u scu les ( C o u tu ra t p. 670).
For geometry Leibnitz had suggested an A n a ly s is S itu s , which is a great improvement on Des
cartes’s algebraic essays; cf. C o u tu ra t pp. 538-546, N o te s M a th é m a tiq u e s I, la—I, 12: ‘ Ita q u e
u t A n a ly sin situ s co n stitu e re m , in te r alia c o g ita v i sc o p u m o b tin e re p o s s e s i p e rfic e re n tu r D e m o n
stra tio n e , E le m e n to ru m E u clid is, in quo ia m o lim A p o llo n iu s, P ro c lu s, n u p e r C la viu s la b o ra
v eru n t . . .’ (p. 546). Cf. also the fragment D e m o n stra tio A x io m a tu m E u c lid is of 22.2.1679,
ib. p. 539.
93 The fundamental importance-of Leibnitz’s L o g ic a l C a lcu lu s has only been acknowledged in
recent years. The fact that it constitutes the actual starting point of all mathematical logic is
clearly shown by the American philosopher A. Church, who begins his B ib lio g ra p h y o f S y m b o lic
L o g ic (reprinted from T h e J o u r n a l o f S y m b o lic L o g ic , vol. I, no. 4 , New York 1936) with Leib
nitz’s D isse rta tio d e a r te c o m b in a to ria . . . {op. cit. p. 123).
Cf. K. Dürr: N e u e B e le u c h tu n g e in e r T h eo rie von L e ib n iz . G ru n d zü g e d e s L o g ik k a lk ü ls . Darm
stadt 1930 (in: L e ib n iz-A r c h iv II, edited by Paul Ritter). Cf. also H. Scholz: M e ta p h y s ik a ls
stre n g e W isse n sc h a ft, Köln 1941.
German logical positivism has taken up Leibnitz’s C h a ra c te ristic a and is directly continuing
along the lines of his work. Cf. especially the writings of one of the most important of its
representatives, Max Bense: P h ilo so p h ie a ls F orsch u n g . Cologne 1947, and K o n tu re n ein er
G e iste sg e sc h ic h te d e r M a th e m a tik , vols. I and II, Hamburg 1946; see also above, Note 6.
94 Cf. T h eo d icy §§ 27-28 {E rd m a n n pp. 487-488) : ‘ § 27. E t q u elq u e m é p ris q u e le vulgaire d e s
m o d e rn e s a it a u jo u rd 'h u i p o u r la L o g iq u e d 'A r is to te , il f a u t re c o n n o itre q u 'e lle en seig n e des
m o y e n s in fa illib les d e ré siste r à l'e rre u r d a n s c es occasions. C a r on n 'a q u 'à e x a m in e r l'a r g u m e n t
su iv a n t les règles, e t il y a u ra to u jo u rs m o y e n d e voir s 'i l m a n q u e d a n s la fo r m e , o u s 'i l y a des
p ré m is se s q u i n e so ie n t p a s en core p ro u v é e s p a r un b o n a rg u m e n t.
4§ 28. C 'e s t to u te a u tr e chose q u a n d il n e s 'a g it q u e d e s vra isem b la n ces; c a r l'a r t d e ju g e r d e s ra iso n s
vra isem b la b les n 'e s t p a s en co re bien é ta b lie ; d e so rte q u e n ô tr e L o g iq u e à c e t é g a rd e s t en core
trè s im p a rfa ite , e t q u e n o u s n 'e n a v o n s p re sq u e ju s q u 'ic i q u e l 'A r t d e ju g e r d e s d é m o n str a tio n s .'
Already as a young man at Mainz Leibnitz was deeply interested in ‘ le C a lc u l d e la P ro b a b ilité
a subject on which Pascal and Huygens had already worked. For further data, cf. D. Mahnke:
Stade 1912.
L e ib n iz a ls G egner d e r G e le h rte n e in s e itig k e it.
95 This idea of a compatibility obtaining between the two types of logic is for the first time clearly
expressed in E le m e n ta C a lcu li of April 1679 {C o u tu ra t pp. 49-57):
‘ §11. D uo T e rm in i sese c o n tin e n te s nec ta m e n c o in cid en tes vulgo a p p e lla n tu r Genus e t Species.
Q u a e q u o a d n o tio n e s se u te rm in o s c o m p o n e n te s {ut h o c loco a m e sp e c ta n tu r) d iffe r u n t u t p a r s
e t to tu m , ita u t g e n e ris n o tio s it p a rs , sp e c ie i n o tio s it to tu m . . .
‘ §12. In sch o lis a lite r lo q u u n tu r, non n o tio n e s sp e c ta n d o , s e d e x a m p la n o tio n ib u s un iversa lib u s
su b je c ta . . . . N o s tr a e ita q u e e t sch o la ru m p h ra s e s h o c loco n o n q u id e m c o n tr a d ic u n t sibi, d is tin
g u e n d a e su n t ta m e n 'd ilig en ter. C a e te ru m in loquendi m o d is n ih il a m e sin e q u a d a m ra tio n e
a tq u e u tilita te innovari, p a te b it c o n sid e ra n ti.' {C o u tu ra t pp. 52-53.)
96 If Leibnitz—writes Couturat—had seen that not a ll relations of extensive logic can (by means of
inversion) be made part of intensive logic, and that therefore the more comprehensive ex
tensive logic is preferable, he would have anticipated the whole development of mathematical
logic (e.g. Boole’s work) that took place in the nineteenth century.
97 Cf. F ra g m e n ts P hilosophiques, in C o u tu ra t, especially no. VIII, §§ 56-57 (1696; op. c it. pp.
524 ff.), entitled D ivisio n d e la P h ilo so p h ie , and no. VIII, § 94 (1690; pp. 529 ff.), D e l'H o r iz o n
d e la D o c trin e H u m a in e , which begins with the following words: 4L e co rp s e n tie r d e s scien ces
p e u t e stre co n sid éré c o m m e l'o c é a n , q u i e s t c o n tin u é p a r to u t, e t sa n s in te rru p tio n o u p a rta g e ,
bien q u e le s h o m m e s y c o n ço iv en t d e s p a r tie s , e t leur d o n n a n t d e s n o m s selo n leu r co m m o d ité .
E t c o m m e il y a d e s m e rs inconnues, ou q u i n 'o n t e s té navig u ée s q u e p a r q u elq u es va isse a u x q u e
le h a z a r d y a v o it je tté e s , o n p e u t d ire d e m ê m e q u 'il y a d e s scie n c e s d o n t on a connu q u elq u e
chose p a r ren c o n tre se u le m e n t e t sa n s d essein .'
98 Thus Leibnitz writes (in April 1683) the following brief definitions: 4L o g ic a e s t sc ie n tia g e n e
ra lis; M a th e s is e s t sc ie n tia re ru m im a g in a b iliu m ; M e ta p h y s ic a e s t sc ie n tia re ru m in tellec
tu a liu m ; M o r a lis e s t sc ie n tia a ffe c tu u m .' {C o u tu ra t p. 556.)
182 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E SE V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y R E V O L U T IO N
99 Cf. Pascal: Œ u v re s, ed. Brunschvicg, vol. II, pp. 49-50.
100 This argument is advanced very frequently; the following formulations of it are typical: in
his D e p r im a e P h ilo so p h ia e e m e n d a tio n e e t d e n o tio n e S u b sta n tia e , Lipsiae, 1694 ( D u te n s vol.
II, pars la, pp. 18 ff.; E rd m a n n p. 122; for the French version, D e la R é fo r m e d e la P h ilo
so p h ie p re m iè r e e t d e la N o tio n d e S u b sta n c e , cf. P. Janet : Œ u vres p h ilo so p h iq u es d e L e ib n iz . . .
Paris, 1866), Leibnitz writes: ‘ C 'e s t s u r to u t la n o tio n q u e j e do n n e d e la su b sta n ce q u i m o n trera
to u te l'im p o rta n c e d e ces choses: n o tio n s i fé c o n d e q u 'à p a r tir d 'e lle s'e n su iv e n t les vérités
p r e m iè r e s , m ê m e celles q u i co n cern en t D ieu , les esp rits e t la n a tu re d e s corps. . . . P our en donner
quelque a v a n t-g o û t, j e d ira i q u e la n o tio n d e vis o u virtus (que les A lle m a n d s a p p ellen t Kraft, les
F ra n ça is la Force) à laquelle j e d e stin e p ç u r l'e x p liq u e r la scien ce p a rtic u liè re d e Dynamique,
a p p o rte b eaucoup d e lu m ière à la vra ye n o tio n d e su b sta n ce. La force active [vis activa ] d iffè re en
e ffe t d e la puissance nue [p o te n tia n u d a ] connue p a r to u t d a n s les écoles, p a r c e q u e la p u issa n ce
a c tiv e d e s scolastiques, ou fa c u lté , n 'e s t rien d 'a u tr e q u 'u n e p o ss ib ilité p ro c h a in e d 'a g ir q u i a besoin
ce p e n d a n t d 'u n e e x c ita tio n étra n g è re e t d 'u n e so r te d e stim u lu s p o u r se tro u ver p a ssé e à l'a c te .
M a is la force active c o n tie n t un certa in a c te ou èvTeXéxsiav, e t e s t in term éd ia ire e n tr e la fa c u lté
d 'a g ir e t l'a c tio n e lle -m ê m e ; elle c o n tie n t un e ffo r t e t e s t a in si p o r té e p a r e lle -m ê m e da n s l'a c tio n ;
e lle n 'a p a s besoin d 'a u x ilia ire , m a is d e la seule suppression d e l'e m p ê c h e m e n t. . . .’
The following passage shows Leibnitz’s awareness of the metaphysical implications of his physi
cal concept of force; it is taken from a letter of his to the J o u rn a l des S a v a n ts , 18.6.1691: 4T o u t
cela f a i t co n n o itre q u 'il y a da n s la m a tiè r e quelque a u tre chose, q u e ce q u i e s t p u r e m e n t G éo m étriq u e,
c 'e s t à dire, q u e l'é te n d u e e t so n ch a n g em en t, e t so n ch a n g e m e n t to u t nud. E t à le bien considérer,
on s'a p p e rç o it q u 'il y f a u t jo in d r e q u elq u e n o tio n supérieure o u métaphysique, sça vo ir celle de
la su b sta n ce, a c tio n e t fo r c e ; e t ces n o tio n s p o r te n t q u e to u t ce q u i p â t i t d o it a g ir ré c ip ro q u em en t,
e t q u e to u t ce q u i a g it d o it p â tir q u elq u e ré a c tio n .' (E rd m a n n p. 113.)
101 Cf. Huizinga, P a rerga, p. 153: ‘ Natural history aimed at qualitative judgments. Once it
had described the properties [das S o -S e in ] of a thing, its task was accomplished. Its world was
the world of the naked eye and of classical geometry ; . . . only the seventeenth century produced
a multitude of instruments: the telescope, the microscope, the thermometer and barometer,
the air-pump, the pendulum-clock, logarithms, the integrat and differential calculus. . . . ’
102 The concepts of space and time and of number are not forms existing independently from our
selves, but (as Leibnitz frequently stresses) id ea l fo r m s , in which we organize things. Hence a
system of motions, organized in accordance with the laws of thought and with teleological prin
ciples, seems (in Leibnitz’s view) to be a necessary substratum of the phenomenal world; such a
system, then, is not Being itself, but a p h a in o m e n o n b en e fu n d a tu m . When he calls time and
space the fo r m s according to which we organize things in space and count events in time, he
is expressing the idea for which Kant later used the word A n sch a u u n g sfo rm e n (‘ forms of
intuition ’).
103 M é m o ir e p o u r la P rin c e sse S o p h ie C h a rlo tte , in : L e ttr e s pp. 277-278: ‘§9. P o u r m o i, j e m e ts
en f a i t ce g r a n d p rin c ip e d e la m é ta p h y siq u e a u ssi bien q u e d e la m o ra le ; q u e le m o n d e e s t g o u
vern é p a r la p lu s p a r fa ite in tellig en ce q u i so it p o ssib le , ce q u i f a i t q u 'il f a u t considérer co m m e
une m o n a rc h ie u n iverselle d o n t le c h e f e s t to u t p u is sa n t e t so u v e ra in e m e n t sage, e t d o n t les su je ts
so n t to u s les e sp rits: c 'e s t à d ire to u te les su b sta n c e s ca pables d 'in te llig e n c e o u d e so c ié té avec
D ieu, e t q u e to u t le re s te n 'e s t q u e l'in s tr u m e n t d e la g lo ire d e D ie u e t d e la fé lic ité d e s esprits, et
p a r con séq u en t to u t l'u n iv e rs e s t f a i t p o u r les e sp rits, en so rte q u 'il p u is se co n trib u er à to u t bon
h e u r le p lu s q u i e s t po ssib le.
‘ § 10... E t s i [les esp rits] m a n q u en t, ils se tro u v e ro n t p u n is in d u b ita b le m e n t; c a r d a n s une m o n a r
chie o u c ité p a r fa ite m e n t bien go u vern ée, i l f a u t q u 'il n 'y a it p o in t d e bo n n e a c tio n in tern e ou
e x te r n e q u i n 'a it sa réco m p en se p ro p o rtio n n é e , e t p o in t de m a u va ise q u i n 'a it so n c h a stim e n t.'
104 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Arnauld of March 1690, in: G erh a rd t vol. II, p. 135 ff.
105 In his In tro d u c tio n (L e ttr e s , pp. cj-cij) Foucher de Careil writes: 'D r . H e g e l, q u i c o n n a ît
c e tte voie-là , i.e. la voie d u p a n th é ism e , rep ro ch e a u s y s tè m e d e L e ib n iz d e conduire à un a to
m is m e c o m p le t. T o u t ce q u 'il d it d e l'a to m e , il l'a p p liq u e in d iffé re m m e n t à la m o nade. L a m o n a d e
c o n d u it d e m ê m e à une p lu r a lité sa n s lien, à l'iso le m e n t d e s êtres , à la sép a ra tio n absolue des
p o u v o irs. Movàç privatisât, où -k o X it z v z t z l , d is a it-il a vec bo n h o m ie. L e s m o n a d es so n t trop p a r
ticu liè re s; on n 'e n fe r a ja m a is les m e m b re s d 'u n m ê m e co rp s p o litiq u e , les c ito y e n s d 'u n e m ê m e
ville; e t il en d ésesp ère.'
106 Wilhelm Dilthey, in G e sa m m e lte S c h rifte n , Leipzig, Berlin, 1914-, vol. III, p. 18.
107 Cf. A c a d e m y VIth series, vol. I, p. 559: S o c ie tä t u n d W irtsc h a ft, 1671.
108 Dilthey, op. cit. p. 19.
109 Cf. C o u tu ra t pp. 3 ff., esp. F ra g m e n ts T héologiques XX, §§ 99-100. This fragment is one of the
many plans for the founding of secret societies and spiritual orders which were written in
Germany in the course of the seventeenth century; most of these plans were realized a year
after Leibnitz’s death in the founding of a Masonic Lodge; for further details, cf. L. Keller:
L e ib n iz u n d d ie d eu tsch en S o z ie tä te n d e s sie b ze h n te n J a h rh u n d e rts, Berlin 1903.
Leibnitz’s fragment begins as follows: ‘ In s titu a tu r S o c ie ta s siv e ord o C a rita tis P a c id ia n o ru m .
C o m p o situ s s it e x c o n te m p la tiv is e t a c tiv is. C o n te m p la tiv i o m n e stu d iu m co llo c e n t in ca nendis
D E O h y m n is p u lch errim is, in qua eren d a ubique m a te ria laudis D ivin a e, in n a tu ra e a rtiu m q u e
a c sc ie n tia ru m arca n is a d D E I a u to ris p e r fe c tio n e m a g n o scen d a m referen d is. U dem a c c u ra ta s
c o n stitu e n t d e m o n stra tio n e s d e D E O e t a n im a , d e v e rita te , d e iu stitia e t re m o ru m . C o llig e n t
T h esa u ru m o m n is h u m a n a e co g n itio n is. F o rm a b u n t L in g u a m illa m a d m ira b ile m a p ta m M is -
sio n a riis a d p o p u lo s co nvertendos, ve rita te m q u e a d m o d u m calculi in o m n ib u s re b u s q u o a d e x
d a tis lic e t p e r so la m voca b u lo ru m c o n sid era tio n em co n seq u en d a m . H o r to s c o len t, A n im a lia
a le n t, p h a rm a c a co m p o n e n t. '
4A c tiv i in te r h o m in e s e x e rc e n d a e C a rita tis causa v ersa b u n tu r; e t p r o fe s s io e o ru m e r it su ccu rrere
m ise ris q u a licet. Ita q u e s i q u is inopia la b o ret, s i a n im i a e g ritu d in e, s i m o rb o , illi so c ie ta tis h a e c
p e rfu g io erit, illi non a u x iliu m ta n tu m , s e d e t sile n tiu m p ra e s ta b it. A n te o m n ia a eg ris su c c u rre n t:
n a m p le riq u e p e r e u n t n e g le c tu a u t ig n o ra tio n e, p le r u m q u e e n im unusquisque a e g e r a c c u ra ta
d ilig en tia indigeret, e t to tu m h o m in e m req u ireret. . . .
4 S i re c te o rd in a ta e sse t H ie ra rc h ia E c c le sia stic a c o n v e n ie t o m n e s e t so lo s o rd in u m G enerales
e sse s im u l cardinales. O m n e s E c c le sia stic o s q u o s v o c a n t secu la res esse su b regula. P o n tific e m
e sse g e n e ra le m G en era liu m , a d h u n c o m n e s G en era les re fe rre . O rd in e m p lu r e s n o m in a re , a p to s
g en e ra la tu i, e x his elig ere p o n tific e m . P o n tife x e s t [p ra e te re a ] q u a si G en era lis C lerico ru m
secu la riu m , s e d d e b e re t e a n d e m h a b e re in eos p o te s ta te m , q u a m G eneralis in su i o rd in is h o m ines.
O p e C o n g reg a tio n u m seu se m in a rio ru m , p a u la tim C leru s secu la ris su b reg u la m revocatur.''
110 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 547 ff. : G ru n d riss e in e s B e d e n c k e n s z u r A u s r ic h tu n g ein er
S o c ie tä t in D e u tsc h la n d , 1671.
111 Cf. M é m o ir e p o u r les p e rso n n e s é cla irées e t d e bo n n e in te n tio n , § 24, in L e ttr e s , pp. 290-291.
112 In 1622 Joachim Jungius, then a Professor at the University of Rostock, had founded a Society,
the aim of which was 4To study truth from both reason and experience, and, having once found
it, to prove it; or else, To free all the sciences and arts which are based upon reason and ex
perience from all sophisms; To reduce them to a state of demonstrable certainty; To propa
gate them by means of suitable instruction; And lastly to increase them by felicitous inven
tions.’ Much the same aims were in Leibnitz’s mind when he was working on his project in
Mainz. Of Jungius, whose ideas are likely to have influenced him quite considerably, Leibnitz
says in his C a ra c te ristic a U niversalis: 4J o a c h im u s J u n g iu s L u b e c e n sis vir e s t p a u c is n o tu s e tia m
in ipsa G erm a n ia , s e d ta n to f u i t indicio [prob, iudicio] e t c a p a c ita te a n im i ta m la te p a te n te , u t
n escia m an a q u o q u a m m o rta liu m , ipso e tia m C a rte sio n o n e x c e p to , p o tu e r it re c tiu s e x p e c ta r i
resta u ra tio m a g n a sc ie n tia ru m , s i vir ille a u t c o g n itu s a u t a d iu tu s fu is s e t.'’ {G e rh a rd t vol. VII,
p. 186).
Cf. also G. E. Guhrauer: J o a c h im J u n g iu s u n d sein Z e ita lte r . N e b s t G o e th e 's F ra g m e n te n
über Ju n g iu s. Stuttgart 1850.
113 Cf. letter to Jacob Thomasius, 20-30.4.1669, in A c a d e m y lind series, vol. I, pp. 15 ff.: 4 D e
C a rtesio e t C laubergio p ro r su s te c u m se n tio , d iscip u lu m m a g istro c la rio rem esse. Illu d ta m e n
ru rsu s dicere a u sim , n u llu m fe r e e x C a rtesfa n is in v e n tis m a g istri q u ic q u a m addidisse. C e rte
C laubergius, R a ë u s , S p in o za , C lerselier, H e e rb o rd , T o b ia s A n d re a e , H e n ric u s R e g iu s, n ih il
a liu d q u a m D u c is s u i p a ra p h r a sta s e g e r u n t'
114 Leibnitz often contrasts the immediately practical nature of his political projects with the
many utopias of his contemporaries, which he rejects as 4ch im e ra e '. Thus he writes in his
memorandum of 1671: 4The happiness of all mankind would be attainable if a common
C onspiratio and sympathetic understanding were not in te r ch im era s, to be set by the side of
U topiae M o r i and C iv ita tis S o lis C a m p a n ella e and A tla n tid is B a c o n is ; and if the Councils
of the greatest Lords were not so remote from considerations of the common weal.’ {A c a d e m y
IVth series, vol. I, § 23, p. 547.)
115 The position of the revolutionary enthusiast Becher in Germany is analogous to that of the
French libertins. Leibnitz says of him in a letter to Lambert van Velthuysen, April 1670:
4J o h a n n es J o a c h im B ech eru s, m e d ic u s a p u d E le c to re m B a v a ru m {nisi n u p e rrim e m u ta v e rit) vir
e s t m a x im i ingenii, s e d p a u lo inquietioris, q u o d e i p a s s im o d ia a c c e r s iv it' {A c a d e m y Und series,
vol. I, § 19, p. 40.)
Later, that is in his B e d e n c k e n von A u s r ic h tu n g ein er A c a d e m ie o d er S o c ie tä t of 1671, he speaks
once again of these enthusiasts, this time rather more forcefully: ‘ These miserable experi
mentalists, charlatans, mountebanks, alchemists and other Ardelios, vagrants and splenetics are
nowadays commonly people of great ingenuity and at times even of considerable experience;
but they are ruined, brought to disaster and become despicable through their disp ro p o rtio
in g en ii e t in d ic ii , and sometimes also through the perverse lust they feel while speculating with
their foolish hopes.’ (A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, p. 550, § 19.)
116 Cf. his letter to Dietrich Caspar von Fürstenberg, April 1673: ‘ And I have moreover en
deavoured to make the acquaintance of a variety of ingenious Artists and Artisans, thereby
learning many a thing that is unknown partly to the public in general, partly to the German
public only; and especially in Chemistry have I made the acquaintance of a number of people
whose science I esteem very highly, finding in them no vanity whatever, but only proper philo
sophical moderation, and no words but only Experiments.’ {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, pp.
345 ff.)
117 Leibnitz himself shows his indebtedness to E . W eig e lii T e tr a c ty s, s u m m u m tu m a rith m e tic a e
tu m p h ilo so p h ia e discursivae co m p en d iu m . Jena 1673, in D u te n s vol. IV, part I, p. 209.
118 The dyadic system which Leibnitz invented in 1678 was to be used as a means of defending
the tenets of the Christian faith; the invention itself originated in some ideas of Erhardt
Weigel’s, while its aim was in harmony with Pascal’s plans, of which Leibnitz knew through
the Duke of Roanez.
The following letter to Veit Ludwig von Seckendorff, written in 1683, is significant for Leibnitz’s
attitude towards Pascal : ‘ P a sc a liu s vero o b ie ra t d u d u m cu m ego a p u d P a risio s versarer, se d
a d e ra t eiu s so ro r, fo e m in a e ru d ita e t ingeniosa, e t e x so ro re n ep o tes, c u m quibus m u lta m ih i
n o titia in te rc e ssit, q u e m a d m o d u m e t c u m I l l m0 D u c e R o h a n e sio , q u i P ascalio usus e ra t fa m ilia r is
sim e , e t h is stu d iis valde a fficieb a tu r. A b h is n o n n u lla in e d ita P a sca lii legenda accepi, s e d p le r a
q u e M a th e m a tic a ; in te lle x i e t n o n n u lla a d v ita m eiu s p e rtin e n tia , e t consilia p ra ecla ra , quae
p ie ta tis p ro p a g a n d a e causa a g ita b a n t: q u a e a lia s p o te r o n a rra re p r o lix iu s .’ {A c a d e m y lind
series, vol. I, no. 240, p. 533.)
119 The discussions on the reunion of the Churches began in Hanover on the initiative of the
Viennese Bishop Spinola in 1679, the year Duke John Frederick died. Leibnitz’s plan, S o c ie ta s
T h eo p h ilo ru m v e l a m o ris divini, was written in 1678, the fragment D e vera M e th o d o P h ilo so p h ia e
T h eo lo g ia e (cf. E rd m a n n no. XXVI, pp. 109-111) in 1679-1680. At the same time the S y s te m a
th eo lo g icu m was begun, and so were the most important papers on the logical calculus: F ra g
m e n ts p h ilo so p h iq u es V. nos. a-f {C o ü tu ra t pp. 42-92) are dated April 1679, and include E le m e n ta
C a ra c te ristic a U niversalis and E le m e n ta C alculi, as well as a note D e a r te C o m b in a to ria dated
‘ B o c h e n e m anno 1680 ’. And this, too, is the time of Leibnitz’s intensive study of Plato’s
T h e a e te tu s, P h a ed o and P a rm e n id e s, on the suggestion of Simon Foucher; apart from this he
published—in 1684—the N o v a m e th o d u s p r o m a x im is e t m in im is (i.e. the discovery of the
infinitesimal calculus), the M e d ita tio n e s d e co g n itio n e, ve rita te e t ideis, which is his first com
prehensive philosophical study, and (in 1686) his reply to Arnauld, the D isco u rs M é ta p h y siq u e .
120 The metaphysical cosmology of Henry More provides the philosophical foundation of New
ton’s physics, especially of his theory of the ‘ ubiquity ’ of gravitation in finite space. This
realistic view of the nature of space as ‘ a real but immaterial substance ’ which ‘ in some
manner belongs to the divine Being ’ Leibnitz, unlike Newton, did not accept.
121 Cf. Leibnitz’s correspondence with Henri Justel. In 1677 Leibnitz mentioned a French and
Latin translation of More’s T ra c ta tu s d e A n im a of 1659 (cf. A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, p. 287),
which is to be found in the Royal Library at Hanover. Leibnitz frequently quotes from this
book, e.g. in G erh a rd t vol. Ill, p. 646; vol. VI, p. 649; vol. VIII, p. 402. In this library will
also be found an almost complete translation into German of Sir Thomas Browne’s E n c h i
ridion M e ta p h y sic u m from th e P se u d o d o x ia E p id em ica , which Leibnitz read there. After January
1680 Leibnitz often quoted Henry More, in whom he saw an opponent of Descartes’s mechan
istic philosophy; yet Leibnitz sought to supply what he discerned as the onesidedness of
Descartes’s philosophy in a manner very different from Henry More’s. Cf. A c a d e m y Und
series, vol. I, p. 507; D u te n s vol. VI, Part I, pp. 48^19. Cf. further: W. Feilchenfeld: L e ib n iz
u n d H e n r y M o r e , in: K a n tstu d ie n vol. XXVIII, 1923: ‘ Henry More acquainted Leibnitz with
certain elements of the neo-Platonist mystical philosophy, suggested to him the study of Jacob
Boehme (whom Leibnitz then read for a number of years), and introduced him to cabbalistic
doctrines. On the whole Leibnitz seems to have learned more from criticizing Henry More's
work than from accepting it.’
122 In March 1673 Leibnitz wrote proudly to the Duke of Hanover that since his arrival in Paris
he has been ‘ admitted to the inner circle of the world-famous Mons. Arnauld and described
Amauld as ‘ a man of the deepest and most thorough ideas that a true philosopher can have;
his aim is not only to kindle the light of religion in men’s minds, but also to tend the flame of
Reason, which has recently been darkened by their passions (Paris 26.3.1673, in A c a d e m y
1st series, vol. I, no. 326, p. 487.)
123 A detailed account of the influence of Platonism upon Leibnitz’s D isc o u rs will be found in
the mentioned book by Ludwig Stein (cf. above, Note 65); for Leibnitz’s correspondence
with Foucher, cf. L e ttr e s pp. 27-131.
124 Cf. G erh a rd t vol. Ill, p. 562; vol. VII, p. 497.
125 Cf. B o d e m a n n pp. 9, 10, 21, 24, which contains a list of Leibnitz’s MSS. at the Royal Library
in Hanover. The first part of these MSS. (!T heologia , vol. V, p. 4) is made up of long extracts
from Valentin Weigel’s books D e r g ü ld n e G r if f and V o m O r t d e r W e lt, which contain his
mystical epistemology and cosmology; the former is an important source for a study of Leib
nitz’s doctrine of the inward origin of all knowledge, while in the latter book Leibnitz found
such significant passages as 4God is nearer to me than my soul and my body ’; here, too,
the geometrical symbols of a 4centre and the circle proper to it ’ are used in a mystical fashion.
On subsequent pages of the MSS. Leibnitz copied out from an anthology, and severely cri
ticized, a number of passages from Lautensack’s O ffe n b a ru n g J e s u C h risti, and from Weigel’s
A u sle g u n g and S u p e r d iv a m A p o c a ly p sin Io h a n n is. From his letters to the mystic Andreas
Morell of Amstadt we know that in Holland Leibnitz met Poiret personally, and that on this
occasion he praised, among other works, a L if e of Angela de Foligno and the W o r k s of St.
Teresa of Avila, calling them 4the best way to true piety and to true inward theology ’ and
comparing them favourably with 4the customary formalized religion ’.
Cf. also J. Baruzi, o p . c it. (end of note 6 above) pp. 429-437; 494 ff.
126 Cf. letters to Bierling, 1709-11, and Bourguet, 1714; also T h e o d ic y , P r e lim in a r y D isc o u rs §9,
in G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 487; vol. Ill, p. 562.
127 The following among the German ‘ pansophic’ and mystical writers exercised, either per
sonally or through their works, some influence upon Leibnitz:
Johann Friedrich Alstedt, born at Ballersbach in 1588, who in 1609 became Master and later
Professor of Philosophy and Theology at Herborn (where Comenius was his pupil), and from
1629 to his death in 1638 was Rector of the Academy at Stuhl-Weissenburg in Transylvania.
In 1609 Alstedt wrote a C la vis A r tis L u llia n a e e t vera e L o g ic e s , a treatise in which a large num
ber of metaphysical problems are 4solved * by means of much sophistry and a few 4com
binatorial ’ tricks. All his subsequent works (more and more voluminous and numerous as
time went on) are connected with this C lavis, and culminate in three enormous 4pansophic ’
treatises, C u rsu s p h ilo so p h ic i E n c y c lo p a e d ia , Herborn 1620, E n c y c lo p a e d ia b ib lica , Frankfurt
1625, and finally an E n c y c lo p a e d ia u n iversa in I V to m o s d ivisa , Herborn 1629. In 1666 Leibnitz
quoted enthusiastically a number of passages from Alstedt’s A rc h ite c tu r a A r ti s L u llia n a e ,
cf. A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, p. 192, § 56; p. 203, § 96. References to Alstedt’s E n c y c lo p a e d ia
u n iversa will be found in G e rh a rd t vol. IV, pp. 62, 74, 146; vol. VII, p. 67.
Johannes Heinrich Bisterfeld, who died in 1655, was a pupil and later colleague of Alstedt’s.
Bisterfeld was a great admirer of Comenius’s and one of the leading lights of the Comenius
Society which was established in Transylvania. Leibnitz’s N o ta e a d J o h . B iste rfe ld iu m of 1663-
1666 (in A c a d e m y VJth series, vol. I, no. 7) and his references to Bisterfeld in the A r s C o m b in a -
to ria lead directly to the 4general panharmonic norm ’ of Comenius’s P a n so p h ia e P ro d ro m u s.
Finally Johannes Wilhelm Petersen of Lüneburg remains to be mentioned, on whose behalf
Leibnitz wrote to the Duchess Sophia, in a letter of 15.9.1691. In 1700 Leibnitz published a
number of extracts from Petersen’s A p o k a ta s ta s is P a n to n in the M o n a tlic h e A u s z ü g e . In 1711
Leibnitz communicated to Petersen through Johannes Fabricius, Prof, at Helmstedt, the
idea for a great didactic poem: 4 U ra n ia s q u a o p era D e i . . . usque a d a p o c a ta sta sin secu lo ru m
o m n iu m . . . ca rm in e h eroico c e le b ra ta ’ (Halle 1720). Both men shared an enthusiasm for
4the founding of a Messianic Empire of this world ’, and in his draft for Petersen’s poem
Leibnitz indicated where and how he thought this conception of a millenium should be in
corporated into the poem. (Cf. D u te n s vol. V, pp. 293 ff.) For many years afterwards Leibnitz
was busy correcting and altering the poem. For further details, cf. A. Görland, D e r G o tte s
b e g r iff b ei L e ib n iz . Giessen 1907.
128 In England Leibnitz met Henry More, Robert Boyle and Oldenburg; on subsequent travels
on the Continent he had many conversations with Amauld, Poiret, the German pietists Francke
and Spener, van Helmont and Knorr von Rosenroth, Chancellor of the Palatinate; shortly
before his journey to Italy in 1689 Leibnitz stayed for several weeks at Knorr’s residence in
Sulzbach.
129 ‘ All Empiricists strive towards an idea and fail to discover it in manifoldness; all theore
ticians look for it in the manifold and fail to find it there.. . In the actual solution of this
problem Goethe too is a ‘ Leibnitzian thus he writes somewhat later: ‘ Theory and experience
(or phenomenon) oppose each other in a permanent conflict. All reflective integration is
deceptive—only in concrete activity [H a n d e ln ] can the two be integrated (Goethe: M a x im e n
u n d R e fle x io n e n , ed. Günther Müller, Stuttgart 1943, nos. 906 and 1003.)
130 Thus Andreas Gryphius in his D isse rta tio n e s fu n e b r e s of 1666 writes: *In brief, it remains so
true that God Who alone is wise will laugh at the wisdom of man, and that Theologians will
in vain continue in their attempts to construct a S y n c r e tis m , the Lawyers will in vain seek to
attain a just settlement with the A n tin o m ia n s, the Medicals weary themselves fruitlessly with
seeking a U n iversa l P a n a c e a , Politicians will make no progress in the establishing of a C o m m o n
M o n a r c h y , the Geometricians will continue in vain attempting to square th e circle, the Mecha
nics will labour on with their P e rp e tu u m M o b ile , the Chemists fret over their L a p is P h ilo so
p h o ru m —so true, I say, remains all this that I need not point out how often great Science
goes hand in hand with injudiciousness and a feeble understanding.’ (Quoted from A. Strutz,
A n d re a s G ryp h iu s, d ie W elta n sc h a u u n g e in e s d eu tsch en B a ro c k d ic h te rs. Zürich 1931, pp. 280 ff.)
131 The In tro d u c tio n contains the following argument:
‘ Those philosophers who do nothing but adhere rigidly to their opinions and reasons can
never attain to certain, reliable and right conclusions where appearances in nature are con
cerned; and it may be observed without much difficulty that in consequence of a disregard
of such results as only experience can give, human reason moves farther away from truth
than the World does from the Sun. Where facts can be left to speak for themselves there no
need for artificial hypotheses arises. But he who finds tangible and self-evident experiences
insufficient to convince him entirely, must stick to his prejudiced opinions and continue, like
a mole, to root about in the dark.’ (Quoted from A. Kistner, G esch ich te der P h y s ik , Göschen
ed., n.d., vol. I, p. 293.)
132 For the correspondence between Leibnitz and Guericke, cf. A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, nos.
54, 62, 75, 77, 82, 83, 101, 103 and 104. For the physical hypothesis cf. especially no. 75.
133 Cf. A c a d e m y lind series, vol. I, pp. 199-201.
134 It is usually assumed that it was Giordano Bruno’s work which first drew Leibnitz’s attention
to Nicolas of Cusa, but the contact through Comenius’s work (1667-1671) seems to have been
earlier. However, Valentin Weigel’s influence in this matter seems to have been more important.
Thus a Leipzig University publication of 1664, printed on the occasion of the burial of Leib
nitz’s mother, contains a reference to Weigel’s anthroposophie theories (reprinted in C. G.
Ludovici, H is to r ie d e r L e ib n itz 'seh en P h ilo so p h ie, 1737, vol. I, pp. 22 ff.), while some extracts
from and comments upon Weigel’s ‘ theory of deification ’, dated 1666 (Reprinted in A c a d e m y
Vlth series, vol. 1, p. 206, especially note 9), show Leibnitz to have been intimately acquainted
not only with Weigel’s works, but through them with the philosophical mysticism of Nicolas
of Cusa, Weigel’s main source and inspiration.
CHAPTER IV
135 In the first half of the seventeenth century Spanish scholasticism became a very important
subject in the Dutch universities, while in Germany the Protestant universities began recom
mending the study of Suarez and of a number of other Jesuits. In 1600 the D isp u ta tio n es
m e ta p h y sic a e were printed for the first time in Germany, and from that time onwards Suarez’s
became the philosophy taught in almost all philosophical schools of the Continental uni
versities. Thus it is that the terminology (and a good deal of the thought) of Descartes, Leib
nitz, Spinoza and of almost all other writers is directly dependent upon Suarez. (This problem
has been discussed in detail in G. Th. Richter’s S p in o z a 's p h ilo so p h isch e T erm in o lo g ie, histo risch
u n d im m a n e n t k ritisc h u n te rsu c h t, Leipzig 1913.) This preoccupation with Italian and Spanish
scholastic sources was explained by the Protestants as a necessary stratagem if they were to
succeed in their attempt to overthrow Jesuitism. (Cf. Peter Petersen, G eschichte d e r a risto te l
ischen P h ilo so p h ie im p ro te sta n tis c h e n D eu tsch la n d , Leipzig 1921.)
The following is a brief account of some of the main events in this long battle for German
education :
In 1563-1571 Duke Albrecht V of Bavaria mobilized all the forces of his state in order to
establish Catholicism as the sole religion to be taught at all the universities and schools. (Cf.
M. Döberl, E n tw ic k lu n g sg e sc h ic h te B a y e rn s, vol. I, V on den ä lte ste n Z e ite n bis z u m w est-
p h ä lisc h e n F rieden, München 1916.) In 1569 Albrecht decreed that all grammar-school teachers
were to model their instruction on the Jesuit schools, and advised all parents to send their
N O T E S. PA RT ONE 187
children to Jesuit schools. Early in 1571 Holy Communion under both forms was prohibited
and the declaration of the Tridentine Creed was made a condition of employment in all public
and municipal services. Exchange of news with Protestant countries was either prohibited or
made difficult. In 1584-1587 Bishop Julius Echter of Mespelbrunn launched his attack on
Protestantism from his palace at Würzburg.
In August Kluckhohn’s V o rträ g e u n d A u fs ä tz e , München 1894, will be found an account of
how the Jesuits succeeded in establishing themselves in the Arts Faculty of the University
of Ingolstadt, one of the chief universities of Southern Germany. And it may be added that it
was not mainly their intellectual and scholarly pre-eminence which secured for the Jesuits
their strong positions in the South; a confirmation of this is to be found in the fact that the
main political moves of both Princes and Bishops were made several years before Spanish
scholasticism began to be taught anywhere in Central Europe.
136 Cf. W. Köhler, L u th e r u n d d a s L u th e r tu m in ih rer w eltg esch ich tlich en A u s w ir k u n g , Leipzig
1933, pp. 50 ff.
137 Cf. Leibnitz’s correspondence with François de Bragelogne about the works of Mlle Antoin
ette de Bourignon:
4. . . C e q u i m 'a le p lu s r e b u té d a n s les d isc o u rs d e M l le A n to in e tte c 'e s t q u 'e lle m e p a r o is t trop
p r o m p te à co n d a m n e r: ce q u i e s t a ssés o rd in a ire à d e s p e rs o n n e s b ie n in te n tio n n é e s, m a is q u i
n 'a y a n t p a s a ssés d e con n o issa n ce d e s a ffa ire s d u m o n d e s 'im a g in e n t le s h o m m e s p ir e s q u 'ils n e
so n t e t o n t s u r -to u t m a u v a ise o p in io n d e s p r in c e s e t g ra n d s S e ig n e u rs, n 'a y a n t p a s e s té a ss e z
p r è s d 'e u x , p o u r voir le fo n d s d e leur cœ ur. P o u r m o i q u i a y e u l'h o n n e u r d e c o n n o istre p a r ti
cu liè re m e n t d e u x g ra n d s P rin c e s, q u i n e v ive n t p lu s , î ' a y veu c o m b ien il e s t d iffic ile m ê m e a u x
p u is sa n s d 'e x é c u te r leurs bo n s d essein s: j e c ro y q u e la p lu s p a r t d e s h o m m e s so n t p lu s to s t bo n s
q u e m a u va is, m a is q u 'il y en a q u i n 'o n p a s a ssés d e lu m ières, d 'a u tr e s n ’o n t p a s a ssés d ’a p p lic a tio n ,
n y d e vigueur p o u r p re n d r e d e s ré so lu tio n s fe r m e s , e t ce q u i e s t le p ir e , c 'e s t q u 'il y a s i p e u d 'u n io n
e t d ’in tellig en ce m ê m e e n tr e le s bien in te n tio n n é s, q u e l ’un d é tr u it ce q u e l'a u tr e édifie. C 'e s t
u n e a m b itio n se c rè te , voilée d 'u n e a p p a ren ce d e p ié té , q u i v e u t q u e c h a cu n p r é te n d d 'e s tr e s e u l
é c la iré e t p a r c o n séq u en t v e u t m a istris e r le s a u tr e s: N o u s fe r io n s d e p lu s g ra n d s p r o g r è s s i no u s
té m o ig n io n s un p e u p lu s d e co n d escen d a n ce e t d e c h a rité le s u n s p o u r les a u tr e s.' {A c a d e m y 1st
series, vol. Ill, no. 275, p. 356, dated 3.3.1680.)
138 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Ernest, Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinfels, written probably early in 1681 :
' O n v o it e n E u ro p e q u 'il y e n a s o u v e n t e n tr e e u x , q u i so n t p le in s d e p e tite s fin e s s e s , q u i n e se ro ie n t
p a s a p p ro u vées p a r m y les h o n n e ste s g e n s d u g r a n d m o n d e. l e c ro y q u e leu r e n se ig n e m e h s d 'é c o le s
e t leu rs livres d e m o ra le c o n trib u e n t b ea u co u p à g a s te r l'e s p r it d e s n o v ic e s e t d e leu rs je u n e s
g e n s. C a r la m a n iè re d e p h ilo so p h e r d e s éco le s e t c e s d isp u te s p u b liq u e s, q u i te n d e n t p lu s to s t à
se su p p ren d re q u 'à a p p ren d re la vé rité , re n d e n t les g e n s c o n te n tie u x , e t p le in e s d e p e tite s su b tilité s,
e t les livres d e m o ra le q u i to u r n e n t la p ié t é en sc h o la stiq u e, f o n t p e r d r e d e veue le g r a n d b u t de
la c h a rité q u i se u le d o it ré g le r n o s a ctio n s. E t c o m m e ces p e rs o n n e s a c c o u stu m é e s a u s ty le de
l'é c o le lisen t p e u les P è re s e t le s a u tr e s a u te u rs, q u i p a r le n t d 'u n e m a n iè re p lu s n o b le e t p lu s n a tu r
elle, i l n e f a u t p a s s 'é to n n e r q u e leu rs m a n iè re s d e ra iso n n er s o n t s i é lo ig n ées d e celles d e to u te
l'a n tiq u ité sa c ré e e t p ro fa n e . . . .
* A p r è s a vo ir ré s is té a vec ta n t d 'é c la t e t d 'a n im o s ité à C o p ern ic, à G alilei, à d e s C a rte s e t à d 'a u tr e s
n o v a te u rs, j e v o y q u 'ils c o m m e n c e n t p e u à p e u à se rendre. M a i s ce la n e se f a i t q u e p e u à p e u ,
e t il n 'y a q u e le s p lu s h a b iles q u i o u v re n t la b o u c h e ; m a is d e c e tte fa ç o n ils n 'e n a u ro n t p o in t
d 'h o n n e u r , e t l'o rd re p e r d b ea u co u p d e sa ré p u ta tio n . A u lieu q u 'ils a u ro ie n t p û e stre e u x m ê m e s
c h e fs e t fo n d a te u r s d ’u n e p h ilo so p h ie d ig n e d e ce siè c le éclairé, e t re su sc ita te u rs d ’une m o ra le
p ra c tiq u e d ig n e d u siè c le d 'o r d e la p r im itiv e é g lise e t d e vra is d iscip les d e Ié s u s. L e to u t sa n s
fa i r e to r t à leu r relig io n e t m a x im e s . l e m e so u vien s q u e j e f i s u n e fo i s un p r o je t p o u r m o n str e r
c o m m e n t un o rdre t e l q u e le leu r {en e ffe c t j e n e v o y p a s d e p lu s p ro p r e ) p o u r r o it re n d re un tr è s
g r a n d service a u g e n re h u m a in , e n se p o r ta n t v é rita b le m e n t à c u ltiv e r l'e s p r it e t la v o lo n té d e
l ’h o m m e , p a r d e s ra iso n n e m e n ts d é m o n str a tifs, d e s e x p é rie n c e s c u rieu ses e t d e s d é c o u v e rte s
im p o rta n te s. . . .
*l e m o n tr a y ce p r o je c t à q u elq u es Ié s u ite s bien in te n tio n n é s e t éclairés, q u i m 'a v o u è r e n t q u e
l'e x é c u tio n en se r ro it p o ss ib le e t d 'u n e u tilité m erveilleu se. M a is ils m e fir e n t c o n n o istre en
m ê m e te m p s q u e les sup érieu rs q u elq u es bien in te n tio n n é s e t écla irés q u 'ils p o u rr o ie n t estre, a u
ro ie n t d e g ra n d e s d iffic u lté s à su rm o n te r, s 'ils v o u lo ien t p o r te r les c h o se s un p e u p lu s lo in q u 'à
l'o rd in a ire . . . . C e p r o je c t p a r u t s i p la u s ib le q u e q u elq u es Ié s u ite s m e p r o m ir e n t d e fa i r e so u s
m a in en so r te q u e ce la p o u r r o it e stre veu d e leurs S u p é rie u rs, c o m m e u n e c u rio sité jo lie : m a is
j e n e s ç a v s 'ils l'o n t f a i t . C e p e n d a n t j e vo u d ro is p o u v o ir a p p ren d re q u e l ju g e m e n t d e s g ra n d s
h o m m e s te ls q u e le P . O liv a [the great General of the Jesuits who died in 1681] e n auroient-
p û fa i r e .' {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, p. 262-263.)
7
139 In a political memorandum for Duke John Frederick, dated Hanover, September 1678, Leib
nitz writes:
‘ V o r d r e d e ia ch a rité, S o c ie ta s T h eo p h ilo ru m , v e l A m o r is d iv in i are truly to be conducted a d
g lo r ia m D e i , and are to argue against Atheists from Nature and also from the admirable
works of God; they are to begin where the Jesuits have left off, and to treat of those studies
which the Jesuits neglect: of N a tu r a e arcana', they should cure poor people free of payment;
inform youth in a ltio rib u s stu d iis and especially in T h eo lo g ia m y stic a , which is su m m u s in s titu ti
h u iu s g ra d u s, and to the study of which C h y m ic a and a rca n a n a tu ra e are a splendid introduction.
They are not to teach S c h o la s tic a m T h e o lo g ia m and P h ilo so p h ia m T h e o lo g ia m but leave that to
the Jesuits; they are to teach everything that can be taught c o m m u n i loquendi m o re , sin e sty lo
sc h o la stic o . . . . This Order would have to be on good terms with the Jesuits and live with
them as it were in confraternity.’ (A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, no. 71, pp. 76—77, § 18.)
140 In his outline of the C h a ra cteristica U niversalis to Duke John Frederick, written in the autumn
of 1679, Leibnitz describes his plan in these words : * C e tte la ngue o u é c ritu re s e p o u r r a apprendre
en p e u d e jo u r s p o u r V u sa g e ordinaire, e t p o u rv e u q u 'o n l'in tro d u is e p a r m y le s m issio n n a ires , elle
se rép a n d ra en un m o m e n t d a n s le m o n d e à cause d e sa g ra n d e fa c i li té e t u sa g e inco m p a ra b le
d a n s le c o m m e rc e d e s n a tio n s, e t là o ù e lle se ra esta b lie, la p ié té e t la raison n e m a n q u e ro n t p a s
d e ré g n e r d a n s le s e sp r its d e m e ille u re tr e m p e , p u is q u 'e n fin les h o m m e s n e p ê c h e n t p re sq u e que
p a r d e s f a u x ra iso n n em en s, e t q u 'o n n e p o u r r a fa i r e a lo rs d e s fa u t e s en ra iso n n a n t sa n s fa ir e des
so lé c ism e s c o n tre le s règ les d e c e tte langue. A in s i a p rè s les m ira c le s e t a u tr e s se c o u rs e x tr a o r d i-
n û ires d 'e n h a u t j e n e c ro y p a s q u 'o n p u is se tro u v e r un m o y e n p lu s p u is s a n t p o u r a va n cer la religion
ch restien n e , p u is q u e d e la m a n iè re q u e j'e x p liq u e in op ere d e m o n str a tio n u m j e la f a i s voir to u te
sa in te e t to u te raisonnable. l e n e c ro y p a s q u 'o n p u is se tro u ver u n e p r o p o s itio n p lu s im p o rta n te
e t p lu s a g réa b le p o u r la c o n g rég a tio n d e p ro p a g a n d a fid e i.' (A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, no.
187, pp. 226-227.)
141 Luther’s attack upon Rome opens with his showing-up of what he conceives of as the con
tradiction between the Christian faith in Redemption and the Roman doctrine of justification.
Only because man is essentially sinful (says Luther) is Redemption necessary and possible at
all. Yet if man is corrupted by hereditary sin (he continues), he can do nothing good of his
own unaided will. Hence no justification by human merit is possible, and the human will is
‘ proper to sin and her very own slave ’ ; and at this point Luther supports his argument by
quoting SS. Augustine and Paul (II. Tim. ii, 26). Luther, then, sees man as unfree to do good
and denies the Roman doctrine of justification by merit, which presupposes in man a freedom
to choose between good and evil. But this doctrine appears to him also to be contradicting
Christian Redemption; for Grace, he claims, would be Grace no longer if it were received as
a reward for good deeds:
‘ Justification that arises from Grace admits neither works nor merit; for these things are
directly contradictory [‘ s tr a c k s w id erein a n d er ’] : to receive something as a present and to
earn it with works; and to be justified by Grace does not admit regard for the dignity of a
person.’ (d e S e rv o A r b itr io , p. 254.)
But beyond this Luther attempts to defeat the Roman doctrine on its own ground. In dis
tributing rewards and punishment God’s decision is, according to that doctrine, closely and
directly connected with the deeds of men; in other words (Luther argues), human achievements
determine the conduct of God, so that this doctrine of compensation—established by God Him
self and hence binding for Him too, unless He is to contradict Himself—renders God’s activities
dependent upon man’s. And this contradicts the concept of God’s omnipotence; and Luther,
whose faith is founded above all in just this concept, makes this contradiction very plain.
In the ensuing dispute Rome appealed to traditional teaching (of both the Scriptures and
Patristic literature) for support of its doctrine, while Luther confined himself in the main to
an appeal to conscience. Cf. W. Köhler, L u th e r u n d d a s L u th e r tu m in ihrer w eltgeschichtlichen
A u s w ir k u n g . Leipzig 1933.
142 On July 3rd 1679 J. G. Beeck wrote from Paris:
‘ L e s J a n sé n iste s c o m m e n c e n t à e stre p e rsé c u té s. V A r c h e v ê q u e d e P a ris les a f a i t so rtir, p a r
o rd re du R o y , d e P o r t R o y a l, o ù ils e sto ie n t d ire c te u rs d e R e lig ie u se s d e c e tte a b b eye. C e so n t
le s J é s u ite s q u i les to u r m e n te n t , p a rc e q u 'ils c ro ie n t q u e les J a n sé n iste s o n t f a i t co n d a m n er leur
m o ra le e n p le in co n sisto ire à R o m e . Ils d ise n t m e s m e q u e le P a p e e s t J a n sé n iste , e t q u e p a r con
sé q u e n t il n 'e s t p lu s in fa illib le, c o m m e ils l'a v o ie n t cru ju s q u 'à c e tte h e u re .' (A c a d e m y 1st series,
vol. II, no. 485, p. 490.) Some two years later, c. Spring 1681, Leibnitz wrote to the Land
grave Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels: *A l'é g a r d d u Ja n sé n ism e , j e tro u v e q u e q u elques uns d e leurs
A n ta g o n iste s p o u s s e n t l'a ffa ir e tro p loin, non se u le m e n t en p e r s é c u ta n t e t d éc ria n t c e u x q u 'ils
f o n t p a ss e r p o u r J a n sé n iste s , m a is e n c o r en tira n t d e s conséquences su r d e s p o in ts d e d o c trin e
o u p lu s to s t d e p h ilo so p h ie , q u i so n t a b so lu m e n t fa u s s e s e t m ê m e c o n tra ire s au b o n s e n s ' {A c a d e m y
1st series, vol. Ill, no. 223, p. 266.)
In the N o u v e a u x E ssa is (Book IV, Chapter XVIII), on the other hand, he is defending the
Jesuits against the Jansenists:
‘ St. Augustine, wholly clever and penetrating as he was, threw himself into an . . . extreme
view . . . and the scholastics appear to have been right in abandoning it; although persons
otherwise clever and some of great merit, but of a disposition a little misanthropic in this
respect, desired to revive this doctrine of this Father, and have perhaps exaggerated it. This
spirit also may have had some influence in the dispute between several excessively vehement
doctors and the Jesuit missionaries in China, who had insinuated that the ancient Chinese
had the true religion of their time and true saints, and that the doctrine of Confucius was
in no respect idolatrous or atheistic. It seems that there was more reason in Rome in being
unwilling to condemn one of the greatest nations without understanding it. It is well for us
that God is more philanthropic than men.’ {E rd m a n n , p. 406, L a n g le y , p. 594.)
143 Cf. the essay V on d e r A llm a c h t u n d A llw is s e n h e it G o tte s u n d d e r F re ih e it d e s M e n s c h e n , 1670.
144 Cf. T h e o d ic y Part I, § 39 {E rd m a n n , p. 514). For the passage on Molina cf. below, note 145.
145 It is significant that Leibnitz’s account of the controversy is as detached and sober as if the
problem itself were quite solved: ‘ § 39 . . . C e tte d iffic u lté a f a i t n a ître d e u x p a r tis : c e lu i d e s
P ré d é te rm in a te u rs, e t c e lu i d e s d é fe n s e u rs d e la sc ie n c e m o y e n n e . L e s D o m in ic a in s e t le s A u g u s -
tin ie n s so n t p o u r la p ré d é te rm in a tio n , les F ra n cisca in s e t le s J é s u ite s m o d e rn e s so n t p lu tô t p o u r
la scien ce m o y e n n e . C e s d e u x p a r tis o n t é c la té vers le m ilie u d u se iziè m e siècle, e t un p e u après,
M o lin a lu i-m ê m e {qui e s t p e u -ê tr e un d e s p re m ie r s a vec F o n seca q u i a m is ce p o in t e n S y s tè m e s ,
e t d e q u i les a u tr e s o n t é té a p p ellés M o lin is te s ) d it d a n s le livre q u 'il a f a i t d e la co n co rd e d u libre
a rb itre a vec la g râ c e , environ V an 1570, q u e le s D o c te u rs E sp a g n o ls {il e n te n d p rin c ip a le m e n t
les T h o m iste s ), q u i a v o ie n t é c r it d ep u is v in g t ans, n e tro u v a n t p o in t d 'a u tr e m o y e n d 'e x p liq u e r
c o m m e n t D ie u p o u v a it a v o ir u n e sc ie n c e ce rta in e d e s fu t u r s co n tin g en s, a v o ie n t in tro d u it les
p ré d é te rm in a tio n s c o m m e n éc e ssa ire s a u x libres. . . .
‘ § 42. I l se r o it long e t e n n u y e u x d 'e n tr e r ic i d a n s les rép liq u es e t d u p liq u es q u i se f o n t d e p a r t e t
d 'a u tr e , e t i l su ffira q u e j'e x p liq u e c o m m e n t j e co nçois q u 'il y a d u vra i d e s d e u x cô tés. . . {E rd
m a n n pp. 514 ff.)
146 In the N o u v e a u x E ssa is, Book IV, Chapter VIII, § 9, Leibnitz makes a point of showing his
indebtedness to Suarez’s work and of excluding it from his censure upon scholasticism: ‘ It
is true that abstracts of metaphysics and such other books of this character as are commonly
seen, teach only words. To say, for example, that metaphysics is the sc ie n c e of being in general,
which explains the principles and affections emanating from it; that the principles of being
are essence and existence; that the affections are either primitive, viz. the one, the true, the
good; or derivative, viz. identity, diversity, simplicity, complexity, etc.; and in speaking of
each of these terms, to give only vague notions and verbal distinctions—this is indeed to abuse
the name of science. But we must render this justice to the more profound scholastics, like
Suarez (whom Grotius valued so highly), and admit that there are sometimes in them discussions
of value, as on the co n tin u u m , the infinite, the contingent, the reality of abstracts, the principles
of individuation, the origo e t va cu u m fo r m a r u m , the soul and its faculties, the concurrence of
God with his creatures etc., and even in ethics, upon the nature of the will and the principles
of justice. In a word, we must admit, there is still some gold left in all this dross, but it is only
enlightened persons who can profit from it; and to encumber youth with this useless load,
merely because here and there something of value can be found, would be to dispose badly of
time, the most precious of all things.’ {L a n g le y pp. 493-4, E rd m a n n p. 371.)
What Leibnitz is enumerating here are at the same time the main problems of his own philo
sophy, and he is concerned with Suarez the philosopher and sa v a n t, not with Suarez the theo
logian. As such he admires Suarez without any prejudice, just as he admires Fabri, Kircher,
Kochansky, Grimaldi and other learned Jesuits of his time. Yet in spite of this admiration
it cannot be claimed that ‘ the Spaniard Suarez is the greatest teacher of the German philo
sopher ’, and that * Suarez and Leibnitz are summits of philosophical thought which can be
compared with each other__.’ (Cf. K. Eschweiler, 'D ie P h ilo so p h ie d e r sp a n isch en S p ä ts c h o la s
ti k a u f d en d eu tsch en U n iversitä ten d e s 17. J a h rh u n d e r ts ', in: S p a n isc h e F o rsch u n g en d e r G ö rres -
G esellsch a ft. Ist series, G e sa m m e lte A u fs ä tz e z u r K u ltu rg e sc h ic h te S p a n ie n s, published by
H. Finke, Münster i. W., 1928, p. 324.) The aim of Eschweiler’s argument is obviously to
diminish the differences in outlook between the independent thinker and the clerical school
man; but the differences are fundamental, and a number of Jesuit Generals have perceived
them and condemned several of Leibnitz’s views accordingly. Thus in 1706 General Tamburini
condemned 30 theses, and as late as 1858 General Beck cited 81 condemned theses taken from
Leibnitz’s and other works. (Cf. Fr. G. M. Pachtler, S.J., M o n u m e n ta G erm a n ia e P a ed a g o g ica ,
vol. IX, Berlin 1890.)
147 The famous S y s te m a T h e o lo g ic u m of 1684 begins as follows:
• * C u m d iu m u ltu m q u e in v o ca to divino a u x ilio sep o sitisq u e, q u a n tu m f o r t e h o m in i p o ss ib ile e st,
p a r tiu m stu d iis, p e rin d e a c s i e x novo o rb e n e o p h y tu s n u lli ad h u c a d d ic tu s venirem , co n tro versia s
d e relig io n e v e rsa verim .’ (G . L . L e ib n itii O p u sc u lu m a d sc ititio titu lo S y s te m a T heo lo g icu m
in s c rip tu m ; ed. P. P. Lacroix, Paris 1845, p. 1.)
148 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is, Chapter XVIII: ‘ Of Faith and Reason and their distinct Limits’;
Leibnitz here accepts St. Augustine’s ‘ M e liu s e s t d u b ita re d e o ccu ltis q u a m litig a re d e in c e r tis'.
CE rd m a n n p. 403, L a n g le y p. 595; cf. St. Augustine, lib. 8, G enes, a d lit. c.5.)
149 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is , Chapter XIX, ‘ Of Enthusiasm’ §§ 1, 2, 4 and 5, in E rd m a n n p. 406,
L a n g le y p. 596.
150 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is, loc. c it: ‘ § 1 (Would to God that all theologians and St. Augustine
himself had always practised the maxim expressed in this passage.) But men think that the
dogmatic spirit is an indication of their zeal for the truth, while it is wholly the opposite. As
a matter of fact we love the truth only in so far as we love to examine the proofs which make
it what it is. . . .
‘ § 2. The spirit of authority is one of the most common motives, and a certain delight it has
in its own reveries is a second motive which causes en th u sia sm to spring up. . . .
‘ § 5. Men have been known in all ages whose melancholy mingled with piety, and, united with
the good opinion they have held of themselves, has made them believe that their intercourse
with God was altogether different from that of other men. They suppose He has promised this
intercourse to them, and believe themselves His people in preference to others.’ ( L a n g le y p. 596.)
This last passage seems to be aime.d in particular against the Quakers and the Rule of the
Saints. The whole chapter, ‘ Of Enthusiasm ’, however, is directed mainly against contem
porary Continental mysticism from Mme de Bourignon to Quirinus Kuhlmann.
151 Cf. F. R. Merkel: L e ib n iz u n d d ie C h in a -M issio n . Leipzig 1920; and L. I. Frohmeyer: ‘ F re i
h e rr von L e ib n iz u n d d ie M is s io n .’ In: E v a n g elisch es M issio n sm a g a zin vol. LXI, Basel 1917.
Cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to William III of 1694. After commenting on a number of commercial
projects, Leibnitz concludes : ‘ E t c o m m e le s su c c è s d e c es d essein s n e se b o rn e ro n t p a s au se u l
su c re , . . . on p e u t d ire q u e ce la fe r a n a istre e n p e u d 'a n n é e s une A m é r iq u e p r o te s ta n te , é g a le m e n t
h e u re u se ta n t à l'é g a r d du bien é te r n e l d e s p a u v r e s h a b ita n s d e c es v a ste s p a y s , q u 'à l'é g a r d du
bien te m p o r e l d e n o s E u ro p é e n s p r o te s to n s , q u i y tro u v e ro n t une n o u velle resso u rce d e rich esse
e t d e p u is sa n c e p o u r b a la n c e r e t m ê m e su rp a sse r celle d e leu r ad versa ires, e t p o u r s o u te n ir l'E s
p a g n e c h a n c e la n te .’ ( K lo p p vol. VI, pp. 97-98.)
152 Cf. especially Max Weber’s ‘ D ie p r o te s ta n tis c h e E th i k u n d d e r G e ist d e s K a p ita lism u s ’ in:
G e sa m m e lte A u fs ä tz e z u r R e lig io n sso zio lo g ie , vol. I, Tübingen 1921; also E. Troeltsch, D ie
B e d e u tu n g d e s P r o te s ta n tis m u s f ü r d ie E n tste h u n g d e r m o d ern en W e lt. München 1911; and
R. H. Tawney, R e lig io n a n d th e R is e o f C a p ita lism . London, Penguin ed. 1942.
153 Cf. E. Troeltsch, ‘ L e ib n iz u n d d ie A n fä n g e d e s P ie tis m u s ' in: G e sa m m e lte S c h r ifte n . Tübingen
1925, vol. IV, pp. 488 ff.; cf. also H. Schmalenbach, L e ib n iz. München 1921.
154 Cf., the following significant passage from the T h e o d ic y on Calvin’s doctrine of predestination:
‘ § 79 . . . C a lvin m ê m e , e t q u elq u es a u tr e s d e s p lu s g ra n d s d éfen seu rs du D é c r e t absolu, o n t f o r t
bien d é c la ré q u e D ie u a e u d e grandes et de justes raisons d e so n éle c tio n e t d e la disp en sa tio n
d e ses g râ c e s , q u oique c es ra iso n s n o u s so ie n t in connues e n d é ta il; e t il f a u t ju g e r c h a rita b le m e n t
q u e les p lu s rig id e s P ré d e stin a te u rs o n t tro p d e raison e t tro p d e p ié t é p o u r s'é lo ig n e r d e ce se n ti
m e n t.' (E rd m a n n p. 524.)
‘ § 182: M a is c o m m e j e l'a i re m a rq u é p lu s d 'u n e f o i s ci-dessus, C alvin m ê m e a reco n n u q u e les
d é c re ts d e D ie u so n t c o n fo rm e s à la ju s tic e e t à la sagesse, quoique les ra iso n s q u i p o u rr o ie n t
m o n tre r c e tte c o n fo r m ité en d é ta il n o u s so ie n t inconnues. A in si, selon lui, les règ les d e la b o n té
e t d e la ju s tic e so n t a n té rie u re s a u x d é c re ts d e D ie u .' (E rd m a n n p. 560.)
155 Cf. H. Schmalenbach, ‘ In d iv id u a litä t u n d In d iv id u a lis m u s ', in: K a n t-S tu d ie n vol. XXIV,
no. 4, Berlin 1920.
156 Cf. especially G rundriss ein es B e d e n c k e n s von A u s r ic h tu n g ein er S o c ie tä t in D eu tsch la n d , 1671,
in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 530 ff., especially p. 546, as well as the memorandum for
Christian Habbeus of 1668-1669, entitled U rsachen C a n sta tt fü g lic h z u r H a u p s ta tt d e s H e r
zo g th u m s W ü rtte n b e rg zu m a c h e n , in which Leibnitz advises the Duke of Württemberg to move
his residence from Stuttgart to Cannstadt (cf. lo c cit. pp. 101 ff.).
157 Cf. T h e o d ic y : *§ 338. S 'i l y a d e s g e n s q u i c ro ie n t q u e l'E le c tio n e t la R é p ro b a tio n se f o n t du
c ô té d e D ie u p a r un p o u v o ir a b so lu désp o tiq u e, non se u le m e n t sa n s a u cu n e ra iso n q u i p a ro isse ,
m a is v é rita b le m e n t sa n s a u c u n e raison, m ê m e c a c h é e ; ils s o u tie n n e n t un s e n tim e n t q u i d é tr u it
é g a le m e n t la n a tu re d e s ch o ses e t les p e r fe c tio n s d ivin es. U n te l décret absolument absolu (p o u r
p a r le r a in si ) se r a it sa n s d o u te in su p p o rta b le : m a is , L u th e r e t C a lvin en o n t é té bien élo ig n és;
le p r e m ie r esp è re q u e la vie fu t u r e no u s fe r a co m p re n d re les ju s te s ra iso n s d u c h o ix d e D ie u ; e t
le s e c o n d p r o te s te e x p re s sé m e n t q u e c es ra iso n s so n t ju s te s e t sa in te s, q u o iq u 'e lle s so n t in co n n u es.'
{E rd m a n n p. 602.)
Cf. further the Appendix to the T h e o d ic y , entitled R é fle x io n s su r l'O u v r a g e q u e M . H o b b e s a
p u b lié e n A n g la is, d e la L ib e r té , d e la N é c e s s ité e t d u H a z a r d : ‘ Q u e c e tte o p in io n q u i d ép o u ille
D ie u ‘d e to u te b o n té e t d e to u te ju s tic e vérita b le, q u i le re p ré se n te c o m m e un T y ra n , u sa n t d 'u n
p o u v o ir a b solu, in d é p e n d a n t d e to u t d ro it e t d e to u te é q u ité, e t c ré a n t d e s m illio n s d e C ré a tu re s
p o u r être m a lh e u re u se s é te rn e lle m e n t, e t cela sa n s a u tr e vue q u e ce lle d e m o n tr e r sa p u is sa n c e ;
q u e c e tte op in io n , d is-je, e s t ca p a b le d e re n d re le s h o m m e s tr è s m a u v a is; e t q u e s i e lle é to it réçu e,
il n e fa u d r o it p o in t d 'a u tr e D ia b le d a n s le m o n d e p o u r b ro u ille r le s h o m m e s e n tr e e u x e t a vec
D ie u , c o m m e le S e r p e n t f i t e n fa is a n t cro ire à E v e q u e D ie u lu i d é fe n d a n t le f r u i t d e l'a rb re n e
v o u lo it p o in t so n b i e n . . . . C 'e s t d o n c la d o c tr in e o u d e la p u is sa n c e aveu g le , o u d u p o u v o ir a rb i
tra ire, q u i d é tr u it la p ié té ; c a r l'u n e d é tr u it le p rin c ip e in te llig e n t o u la p ro v id e n c e d e D ieu ,
l'a u tr e lu i a ttrib u e d e s a c tio n s q u i co n v ie n n e n t a u m a u v a is P rin c ip e .' {E rd m a n n p. 634.)
158 Cf. T h e o d ic y , Preface: ‘ . . . L o rs q u e . . . N o tr e S e ig n e u r . . . n o u s a ssu re q u e D ie u [est] p a r
fa i te m e n t bon e t sa g e, a y a n t soin d e to u t, . . . n o tr e co n fia n c e en lu i d o it être e n tiè re : d e so rte
q u e n o u s verrions, s i n o u s é tio n s c a p a b le s d e le co m p ren d re, q u 'il n 'y a p a s m ê m e m o y e n d e so u
h a ite r rien d e m e ille u r {ta n t a b so lu m e n t q u e p o u r n o u s) q u e c e q u 'il f a i t . C 'e s t c o m m e s i l'o n
d is o it a u x h o m m e s: F a ite s v o tr e d e v o ir, e t s o y e z c o n te n ts d e ce q u i e n a rrivera , n o n se u le m e n t
p a rc e q u e vous n e sa u r ie z ré s iste r à la P ro v id e n c e D iv in e , o u à la n a tu r e d e s ch o ses {ce q u i p e u t
su ffire p o u r être tranquille, e t non p a s p o u r être c o n te n t ) [Leibnitz has in mind the doctrine of
pietism]. E t c 'e s t q u 'o n p e u t a p p eler Fatum Christianum.
‘ C e p e n d a n t il se tro u ve q u e la p lu p a r t d e s h o m m e s, e t m ê m e d e s C h rétien s, f o n t e n tre r d a n s leur
p ra tiq u e quelque m é la n g e d u D e stin à la T urque, q u o iq u 'ils n e le re c o n n a isse n t p a s a ssez. . . . M a is
. . . on ra iso n n era a lo rs à la T urque bien so u v e n t {quoiqu'on a p p elle ce la m a l-à -p ro p o s “ s e re m e ttr e
à la P ro vid en c e " , c e q u i a lieu p ro p r e m e n t, q u a n d o n a s a tis fa it à so n d evo ir ) e t o n e m p lo y e ra la
. R a iso n p a re sse u se , tiré e d u D e stin irré sistib le , p o u r s 'e x e m p te r d e ra iso n n e r c o m m e i l f a u t ; sa n s
co n sid érer q u e s i ce ra iso n n e m e n t c o n tre l'u sa g e d e la R a is o n é to it bon, i l a u ro it to u jo u rs lieu,
so it q u e la d é lib éra tio n f û t fa c ile ou n o n .' {E rd m a n n pp. 470-471.)
For the concept of F a tu m C h ristia n u m cf. also * C in q u iè m e E c r it d e M r L e ib n itz à M r C la r k e ’,
§ 13: ‘ M a i s on c o n v ie n t q u 'il y a Fatum Christianum, une D e s tin é e c e rta in e d e to u te c h o se s,
rég lée p a r la P ré sc ie n c e e t p a r la P ro v id e n c e d e D ie u . Fatum e s t d é riv é d e fari; c 'e s t à dire,
prononcer, décerner; e t d a n s le b o n sen s, i l sig n ifie le D é c r e t d e la P ro vid en c e. E t c e u x q u i s 'y
so u m e tte n t p a r la con n o issa n ce d e s p e r fe c tio n s d ivin es, d o n t l'a m o u r d e D ie u e s t u n e s u ite {p u is
q u 'il c o n siste d a n s le p la is ir q u e d o n n e c e tte co n n o issa n ce), n e p r e n n e n t p a s s e u le m e n t p a tie n c e
c o m m e les P h ilo so p h e s P a y e n s [i.e. fatum stoicum], m a is ils s o n t m ê m e c o n te n ts d e c e q u e D ie u
o rd onne, sa c h a n t q u 'il f a i t to u t p o u r le m ie u x .' {E rd m a n n p. 764.)
159 This idea is expressed for the first time in Luther’s treatise O n th e B a b y lo n ish C a p tiv ity o f
th e C hurch of 1520, where he writes: ‘ Now I know it and am certain of it: the Papacy is the
Babylonish Empire.’ And it is this idea which becomes the mainstay of his attack upon Rome.
160 Gottfried Arnold in his U n p a rth e y isc h e K irc h e n - u n d K e tz e r -H is to r ie , v o m A n fa n g d e s N e u e n
T e s ta m e n ts biss a u f f d a s J a h r C h ris ti 1 6 8 8 (ed. Frankfurt 1715, vol. II, p. 1032) describes Ludwig
Gifftheil (in a chapter entitled ‘ Witnesses to the Truth ’) in these words:
* Ludwig Friedrich Gifftheil, an Abbot’s son, bom in the Province of Württemberg; and
awakened by God through the Comet of Anno 1618; announced to all Europe the time and
arrival of the Judgment of God, together with the only Gospel for the redemption of Sion
and the glorification in Christ’s peaceful and triumphant empire of the whole world’s faithful
warriors; this judgment has to this day been continued, but now hastens to its end and con
clusion with the approach of the year 1700 and of the years following upon it, as is witnessed
by all the copies of his [Gifftheil’s] numerous declarations to all kings and potentates, coun
tries and towns, written between 1618 and 1661; and these prophesies are preserved to bear
witness so that when they are fulfilled people will be forced to admit that God warned them
in good time, and that He did not send such a messenger of His Judgment and fierce Wrath
in vain into their clerical heavens, into countries and towns, causing him to flee them until
at last he died Anno 1661 in Amsterdam.’
For Breckling’s life, cf. ibid. vol. II, p. 143, where a list of forty-four .of his works will be found
In Breckling’s treatise V o m Z u s ta n d u n d B e sc h re ib u n g d e r K irc h e n (reprinted in Arnold, op.
pp. 1050 ff.), the idea of a Christian ecclesiastical history is advanced and developed along
c it.
the lines followed later by Arnold himself in his K irc h e n - u n d K e tze r -H isto rie .
The whole story of these mystical writers is discussed in detail in E. Seeberg’s G o ttfr ie d A rn o ld .
D ie W isse n s c h a ft u n d d ie M y s t i k se in e r Z e it . S tu d ie n z u r H isto rio g ra p h ie u n d z u r M y s tik .
Meerane 1923; cf. especially p. 354.
Quirinus Kuhlmann, the most extreme of all pupils of Jacob Boehme, was a truly international
character. He travelled the world as the prophet of Boehme’s ‘ age of lilies \ announcing the
coming of a new reformation and of the last kingdom. From Germany he went to Holland,
and thence to England; from England to Paris and Marseilles, thence to Constantinople and
Smyrna; he then returned to Lübeck, leaving soon for Moscow, where he was burnt at the
stake in 1687. Cf. W. E. Peuckert: 4Quirinus Kuhlmann’, in: S c h le sisc h e L eb en sb ild er, vol.
Ill (S c h le s ie r d e s 17. b is 19. Ja h rh u n d e rts), published [on behalf of the Silesian historical com
mission] by F. Andrea. Breslau 1928, pp. 139-144.
In the N o u v e a u x E ssa is Book IV, Chapter XIX, Leibnitz writes about him: ‘ Quirinus Culman,
a Silesian, a man of knowledge and judgment, but who had indulged in two kinds of visions,
both equally dangerous: the one of the enthusiasts, the other of the alchemists, and who made
some stir in England, Holland and even in Constantinople, being at last advised to go into
Russia and there to mix himself up in certain intrigues against the Ministry, at the time when
Princess Sophia governed there, was condemned to be burnt and did not die like a man con
vinced of that which he had preached.’ {E rd m a n n p. 408, L a n g le y pp. 601-602.)
161 For Leibnitz’s discussion of the work of Jean de Labadie and of the religious movement in
Holland cf. T h e o d ic y § 14, E rd m a n n p. 484.
162 Cf. A n fa n g u n d F o rtg a n g d e r B e k e h r u n g A . H . F ra n c k e s von ih m s e lb s t g esch rieb en , reprinted
in G. Kramer: B e iträ g e z u r G e sc h ic h te A . H . F ra n c k e s. vol. I, Halle 1861, pp. 45 ff.: 41 have
read and translated Molinos’s works without taking part in the argument or approving of
them beyond the point in which they are in agreement with Holy Scripture; I have never
recommended them as a foundation of Christianity, nor acted in such fashion that anyone
could find cause to take offence at my words.’ This reservation in Francke’s attitude to quietism
is significant, for his aim is to avoid all external influences in order to arrive at an independent
inward experience of faith. Cf. G. Kramer, o p . c it., p a ss im .
163 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Bragelogne, in A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, no. 275, p. 356. François
de Bragelogne Sieur d’Estinville, Captain in the G a rd es d u C o rp s of Duke Ernest Augustus
of Hanover, was an enthusiastic follower of Antoinette de Bourignon, who on her flight in
1676 found refuge in Hamburg and was later active among the peasants in Eastern Frisia.
Cf. further o p . cit. nos. 275, 369, 373, 378, 384, 422, and N o u v e a u x E ssa is Book IV, Chapter
XIX (L a n g le y pp. 602 ff.)
164 Cf. T h e o d ic y , Preface, in E rd m a n n p. 469.
165 The most important early pietist manifesto is Spener’s famous P ia d esid eria , o d er h e rtzlic h e s
V erla n g en n a ch g o ttg e fä llig e r B e sse ru n g d e r w ahren eva n g elisch en K irc h e , of 1675. Leibnitz’s
relations with Spener are discussed in H. Lehmann’s 4N e u e E in b lic k e in d ie E n tw ic k lu n g sg e
sc h ic h te d e r le ib n itzisc h e n P h ilo so p h ie ’ in : Z e its c h r ift f ü r P h ilo so p h ie u n d p h ilo so p h isc h e K r itik ,
vol. CLXII, 1916. An account of this interesting relationship may also be traced in Leibnitz’s
correspondence with the Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinfels. Early in 1681 Leibnitz writes to
Ernest: 4M o n s ie u r S p e n e r e s to it d e m e s a m is p a rtic u lie rs lo rs q u e j ' e s t o is d a n s le voisinage d e
F ra n c fo r t. M a is d e p u is q u e f e n su is p a r ti, le c o m m e rc e d e le ttr e s q u e n o u s a v io n s e n se m b le a
e s té in te rro m p u . C e p e n d a n t V .A .S . a e u raison d e l'e s tim e r . J e c ro y m ê m e q u 'e lle se se r o it
a cco rd ée a vec lu y e n m a tiè r e d e ju s tific a tio n , s i o n e s to it e n tr é d a n s le d é ta il.' {A c a d e m y 1st
series, vol. Ill, no. 223, p. 260.)
A little later, 25.X.—5.XI.1683, the Landgrave writes to Leibnitz at Hanover: 4E s ta n t en
d isc o u rs c e ste fo i r e p a s s é e à F r a n c k fo r t e t d isc o u rro n t a vec le D o c te u r S p e n n e r e t to m b a n t su r
vo u s: le b o n h o m m e e s to it en la p e rsu a sio n q u e d e sja e t d e v a n t q u elq u es a n n é e s vous vous e stie z
f a i c t d e s n o stres. P lu s t à D ie u q u 'il e u st d ie t v ra y .' {ib. no. 253, p. 330.)
To this Leibnitz replied (25.XL—5.XII.1683): 4 Q u a n t à ce q u e M o n s . S p e n n e r a d it d e m o y ,
j e re sp o n d s q u 'il se tr o m p e en p a r tie e t q u 'e n p a r tie i l n e s e tr o m p e p a s *, to which the Landgrave
adds the following marginal comment of lis own: 4 O h m o n b o n M o n s . L e ib n itz , on n e p e u t
p a s e stre e n p a r tie C a th o liq u e e t e n p a r tie n o n . L a vérita b le M è r e f u s t reco g n u q u 'e lle n e vo u lo it
p o in t so n e n fa n t p a r ta g é e n d e u x p iè c e s .' {ib., no. 255, p. 333.)
166 This controversy between pietism and rationalism, and in particular between A. H. Francke
and Christian Wolff, the chief dogmatic representatives of the movements, flared up for the
first time in 1706 in the University of Halle; Leibnitz describes this crucial dispute in his
T h e o d ic y Book V ( D isc o u rs su r la c o n fo r m ité d e la F o i a vec la R a iso n ), § 15: ‘ U ne d is p u te
sem b la b le a p e n s é tro u b le r en co re d e p u is p e u les E g lise s d e la C o n fe ssio n d 'A u g s b o u r g . Q u elq u es
M a îtr e s -è s -A r ts d a n s V U n iv e rsité d e L e ip s ic fa is a n t d e s leço n s p a rtic u liè re s c h e z e u x a u x E tu d ia n s
q u i le s a llo ie n t tro u v e r p o u r a p p re n d re c e q u 'o n a p p elle la Philologie Sacrée su iv a n t l'u s a g e de
c e tte U n iv e rsité e t d e q u elques a u tre s, o ù ce g e n r e d 'é tu d e n 'e s t p o in t ré s e rv é à la F a c u lté de
T h éo lo g ie: c es M a îtr e s , dis-je, p r e s s è r e n t l'é tu d e d e s sa in te s E c ritu re s e t l'e x e r c is e d e la p ié té ,
p lu s q u e leurs p a r e ils n 'a v o ie n t c o u tu m e d e fa ir e . E t l'o n p r é te n d q u 'ils a v o ie n t o u tr é ce rta in e s
ch oses, e t d o n n é d e s so u p ç o n s d e q u e lq u e n o u v e a u té d a n s la d o c tr in e : ce q u i leur f i t d o n n e r
le n o m d e P ié tis te s , c o m m e d 'u n e se c te n o u v e lle ; n o m q u i d e p u is a f a i t ta n t d e b r u it en A lle m a g n e ,
e t a é té a p p liq u é bien o u m a l à c e u x q u 'o n so u p ço n n o it, o u q u 'o n f a i s o i t se m b la n t d e so u p ç o n n e r d e
F a n a tism e , o u m ê m e d 'h y p o c r isie , cach ée so u s q u elq u e a p p a ren ce d e ré fo rm e . O r qu elq u es-u n s
d e s a u d ite u rs d e c es M a îtr e s s 'é ta n t tr o p d is tin g u é s p a r d e s m a n iè re s q u 'o n tro u v a cho q u a n tes,
e t e n tr e a u tr e s p a r le m é p ris d e la P h ilo so p h ie , d o n t o n d is o it q u 'ils a v o ie n t b r û lé les ca h iers d e s
leçons, on c ru t q u e leu rs M a îtr e s re je to ie n t la P h ilo so p h ie : m a is ils s 'e n ju s tifiè r e n t f o r t b ien , e t
o n n e p u t les convaincre, n i d e c e tte erreu r, n i d e s h é ré sie s q u 'o n leu r im p u t o it.' {E rd m a n n p. 484.)
167 All over Germany, but especially in the West, the religious separatists formed closely organized
communities; all these communities were united in the belief that the official Churches repre
sented no other than ‘ the vestments of the Devil ’. The most famous of these settlements
were established in the virgin-forests of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Berleburg to the north-east of
Siegen (which had been the original territory of the Holy Roman Empire); in the Isenburg
country south of Frankfurt; in the vicinity of Büdingen, to the north-east of Frankfurt; and
around Hanau, east of Frankfurt. Everywhere in these secluded settlements the religious
practised their faith under the protection of wealthy squires. The quietists, scattered but
numerous, lived on the Lower Rhine, all of them under the spiritual leadership of Tersteegen,
a follower of the rigid quietist doctrine of Mme de Guyon. Closely connected with them
was a French member of the Reformed Church, Charles Hector Marquis de Marsay, a fana
tical disciple of Mme de Guyon, who exercised a strong influence upon these philadelphian
communities. Nicholaus Ludwig Count of Zinzendorf founded a number of communities
in the district of Wetterau, which were designed to become a part of the Reformed Church
in the same way as his foundation at Herrnhut in Lusatia was to be incorporated into the
Lutheran Church. In this way, too, the newly consolidated Unitas Fratrum (the Moravian
Brethren) was established between 1736 and 1750 as an independent sect of its own. Another
important personality was ‘ Christianus Democritus ’ Dippel, who remained outside all
organized movements, and in his striving for a pure Christology was hated alike by the official
Church, by the pietists and by the extreme sects (the Halle-group and the ‘ M e m m in g e r In
sp irie rte ’). For further details of these sects, cf. F. Barthold: ‘ D ie E r w e c k te n im p r o te s ta n
tisch en D e u tsc h la n d w ä h re n d d e s A u sg a n g e s d e s 17. J a h rh u n d e r ts ', in: R ä u m e r s H isto ris c h e s
T a sch en b u ch , 1852.
168 It is significant that in the question of missions Francke is in entire agreement with Leibnitz;
thus both propose plans for a conversion of China via Russia. (As a young man Francke
wrote a book in which he examined the question of whether the Confucian ethic were not
superior to the Christian.) Leibnitz first broached the subject of a mission to China during his
meeting with the Jesuit Grimaldi in Rome in 1687, when the latter hoped to use Leibnitz as
an intermediary in securing the help of Peter the Great. Neither Jesuits nor Protestants suc
ceeded in realizing their plans of a Chinese mission with Russian help.
169 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to the Duke John Frederick, autumn 1679: ‘ . . . J 'a v o is d re s sé le p la n
d 'u n o u vra g e im p o rta n t su b titu lo : Demonstrationum Catholicarum, c o n sista n t en tr o is p a r tie s ;
la p re m iè r e d e v o it d o n n e r d e s d e m o n str a tio n s d e Dieu e t d e l’âme, c o m m e e n e ffe c t j 'e n a y d e
su rp ren a n tes. L a seco n d e d e v o it c o n te n ir le s p re u v e s d e la religion Chrestienne, e t d e la p o s
sib ilité d e n o s p r in c ip a u x m y s tè r e s , p a r tic u liè r e m e n t d e la T rin ité , d e l'in c a rn a tio n , d e l'E u c h a r istie ,
e t d e la resu rrectio n d u corps. L a tr o isiè m e d e l’Eglise e t d e so n a u to r ité , d u d r o it d ivin d e I 'H ie r
a rch ie, e t d e s lim ite s d e la p u is sa n c e sécu lière e t ecclésia stiq u e, d o n t la d iffé re n c e e s t q u e to u s
le s h o m m e s e t le s E c c lé sia stiq u e s m ê m e s d o iv e n t a u x so u vera in s u n e o b éissa n ce e x té rie u r e e t
p a s s iv e , c 'e s t à d ire a u m o in s u n e ir ré sistib ilité e t so u ffra n c e sa n s re serve su r les b ie n s e x té rie u r s,
su iv a n t la p ra c tiq u e d e s p r e m ie r s C h re stie n s q u i n 'o b e isso ie n t p a s a u x o rd re s im p ie s d e s E m p e
reurs, m a is q u i e n so u ffro ie n t to u t. E n éch a n g e to u s les h o m m e s e t m ê m e s le s so u vera in s d o iv e n t
à l'E g lis e u n e o b éissa n ce in té rie u re e t a c tiv e , c 'e s t à d ire ils d o iv e n t fa i r e to u t ce q u e l'E g lis e
c o m m a n d e , e t croire to u t ce q u 'e lle e n se ig n e ; m a is e lle n e c o m m a n d e ra ja m a is d e ré siste r a u x
so uverains, e t n 'en seig n era ja m a is ce q u i im p liq u e co n tra d ic tio n . C a r il n 'y a q u e c es d e u x p o in ts
e x c e p té s . S u r c es p rin c ip e s j'e x p liq u o is c la ire m e n t les q u e stio n s le s p lu s difficiles.
‘ C e g r a n d o u vra g e (non mole sed materia rerum) d e v o it e stre p r é c é d é p a r le s E lé m e n s d é m o n stré s
d e la vra y e p h ilo so p h ie . C a r p o u r ju g e r d e s d é m o n stra tio n s en m a tiè r e de f a i t e t d e m o ra le , il
f a u t une n o u velle p a r tie d e la logique, sça vo ir l'a r t d e p e s e r le s p ro b a b ilité s e t d 'e s tim e r d e q u e l
c o sté p e n c h e la b a la n ce q u a n d i l y en a d e p a r t e t d 'a u tr e .' {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, no. 187,
p. 225.)
170 Cf. T h e o d ic y , D isc o u rs . . . ‘ § 44: O r n o u s n 'a v o n s p o in t beso in d e la F o i révélée , p o u r sa vo ir
q u 'il y a un t e l P rin c ip e unique d e to u te s ch o ses, p a r fa ite m e n t b o n e t sa g e. L a R a iso n no u s l'a p
p r e n d p a r d é m o n str a tio n s in fa llib le s; e t p a r con séq u en t to u te s les o b je c tio n s p r is e s d u train des
ch o ses, o ù n o u s rem a rq u o n s d e s im p e rfe c tio n s, n e so n t fo n d é e s q u e su r d e fa u s s e s apparences.
C a r s i no u s é tio n s ca pables d 'e n te n d re l'H a r m o n ie universelle , n o u s verrions que ce q u e no u s
so m m e s te n té s d e b lâ m e r, e s t lié a vec le p la n le p lu s dig n e d 'ê tr e ch o isi; en un m o t n o u s verrions,
e t n e croirions p a s se u le m e n t , q u e ce q u e D ie u a f a i t e s t le m eilleu r. J 'a p p e lle voir ic i ce qu 'o n
c o n n o ît a priori p a r les c a u se s; e t croire, ce q u 'o n n e ju g e q u e p a r le s e ffe ts , quoique l'u n so it
a u ssi c e rta in e m e n t connu q u e l'a u tre . . . .
‘ § 45 . . . E t . . . d e so r te q u 'o n p e u t d ire q u e le trio m p h e d e la vérita b le R a iso n éclairée p a r la
g râ c e divin e e s t en m ê m e te m p s le trio m p h e d e la F o i e t d e l'a m o u r .' {E rd m a n n pp. 491-492.)
171 Cf. M e th o d u s . . . re in tro d u cen d a e un io n is e c clesia stica e in te r R o m a n e n s e s e t P ro te s ta n te s ,
reprinted in Foucher de Careil’s Œ u vres vol. II, part i, pp. 1 ff., under the title L e ttr e s d e L e ib n iz ,
P ellisso n , B o ssu e t e t S p in o la p o u r la R é u n io n d e s P r o te s ta n ts e t d e s C atholiques.
172 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Mme de Brinon, 29.9.1691:
‘ L a m a in d e D ie u n 'e s t p a s ra ccourcie. L 'E m p e r e u r y a d e la d isp o sitio n ; le p a p e In n o c e n t X I
e t p lu s ie u rs c a rd in a u x , g é n é r a u x d 'o rd r e s, le m a îtr e du S a c r e P a la is e t th éo lo g icien s g ra v e s ,
a p rè s l'a v o ir bien co m p rise , se so n t e x p r im é s d 'u n e m a n iè re tr è s fa v o r a b le . J 'a i vu m o i-m ê m e
la le ttr e orig in a le d e f e u ré v é re n d p è r e N o y e lle s, g é n é r a l d e s J é su ite s, q u i n e sç a u r o it être p lu s
p r é c is e ; e t on p e u t d ire q u e s i le r o i e t le s p r é la ts e t th éo lo g ien s q u 'il e n te n d su r c es m a tiè re s s 'y
jo ig n o ie n t, l'a ffa ir e s e r o it p lu s q u e fa is a b le , car e lle s e r o it p re s q u e fa i t e .' (In D u te n s vol. I, p.
519; another very similar text in Œ u v re s vol. I, p. 184.)
173 The following is a brief chronological outline of the discussions on the reunion of the Churches
in which Leibnitz took part, and of other dates relevant to those discussions:
1671 : appeared Bossuet’s E x p o s itio n d e •la d o c tr in e catholique.
1679: Papal approval of the E x p o s itio n ; Leibnitz’s first correspondence with Bossuet.
1679, Summer: Spinola’s first visit to Hanover, bearing a letter from Pope Innocent XI.
1683, March: Spinola’s second visit; convention of the reunionists in Hanover: Molanus,
Barkhausen, Meyer, Spinola, Duke Ernest Augustus.
1689, October: death of Innocent XI, succeeded by Alexander VIII.
1690, June: Spinola’s third visit to Hanover.
1691, March: Spinola recalled to Hungary; Leibnitz takes up the correspondence with
Bossuet.
1693: death of Pellisson, *d ir e c te u r d e la caisse d e s co n versions ' and friend of Bossuet’s.
1694, July: Leibnitz’s last letter to Bossuet; the discussions are broken off.
1695, March: Rojas de Spinola, Bishop of Wiener Neustadt, dies.
1698 : Leibnitz’s attempt to gain the interests of Louis XIV for the reunion fails; the approach
is made through Anton Ulrich of Wolffenbüttel, with whom the King had concluded
a defensive alliance.
1699, January: Bossuet takes up the correspondence once more.
1700: The discussions are transferred to Vienna; Leibnitz is invited to attend, but goes to
Berlin instead; July 11th the Brandenburg Learned Society {S o c ie tä t d e r W issen sch a ften
z u B e rlin ) opens its first session.
1701 : A letter of the Emperor Leopold I to Pope Clement XI (1700-1721) on the reunion of
the Churches; Bossuet’s memorandum.
1702, February: Final break of the correspondence with Bossuet.
1704, April: Jacques-Benigne Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, dies.
1706, November: Duke George Lewis of Hanover forbids Leibnitz to participate in the
discussions in Berlin.
1707: Pastor Winckler of Berlin publishes his A rc a n u m R e g iu m , which brings to an end the
attempts at reunion among Lutherans and the Reformed Church.
1708: Leibnitz submits to Peter the Great his plan for a w-orld council.
1711: Anton Ulrich of Wolffenbüttel is converted; last attempt by the Emperor Joseph I
to gain the Papal legate in Vienna for the cause of a reunion.
PA R T TW O : LEIB N ITZ’S C H O SEN TA SK
CHAPTER I
174 Cf. E rm a h n u n g an d ie T e u tsc h e n , ih ren V e rsta n d u n d S p ra c h e b e sse r z u ü b en , s a m m t b e y g e fü g te n

V orschlag e in e r T e u tsc h g e sin n te n G e se llsc h a ft, 1698, in K lo p p , vol. VI, pp. 187 ff.
175 Cf. D isc o u rs d e M é ta p h y siq u e , § 14: ‘ C a r D ie u to u r n a n t p o u r a in si d ire d e to u s c o sté s e t d e

to u te s le s fa ç o n s le s y s tè m e g é n é r a l d e s p h é n o m è n e s q u 'il tro u v e b o n d e p ro d u ire p o u r m a n ife s te r
s a g l o i r e . . . ' (G r o te fe n d p . 167); cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to Arnauld, 30.4.1687: ‘ V ous o b je c te z,
M o n s ie u r, q u 'il p o u r r a e stre d e l'e sse n c e du co rp s d e n 'a v o ir p a s u n e v ra y e u n ité , m a is i l sera
d o n c d e l'e sse n c e d u co rp s d 'e s tr e un p h é n o m è n e , d ép o u rveu d e to u te ré a lité , c o m m e s e r o it un
so n g e réglé, car le s p h é n o m è n e s m ê m e s c o m m e l'a r c e n c ie l o u c o m m e un ta s d e p ie r r e s se ro ie n t
to u t à f a i t im a g in a ires s 'ils n 'e s to ie n t co m p o sé s d 'e s tr e s q u i o n t une vérita b le u n ité ' (ibid. p. 93);
and his letter to Amauld, 9.10.1687, § 2: * Q u a n t à c e tte a u tr e d iffic u lté q u e vo u s fa i te s , M o n
sieu r, sç a v o ir q u e l'â m e jo in te à la m a tiè r e n 'e n f a i t p a s un e stre v é rita b le m e n t un, p u is q u e la
m a tiè r e n 'e s t p a s v é rita b le m e n t une e n e lle m ê m e , e t q u e l'â m e , à ce q u e vous ju g é s , n e lu y do n n e
q u 'u n e d é n o m in a tio n e x tr in sè q u e , j e ré p o n d s q u e c 'e s t la su b sta n c e a n im é e à q u i c e tte m a tiè r e
a p p a rtie n t, q u i e s t v é rita b le m e n t un e stre , e t la m a tiè r e p r is e p o u r la m a sse en e lle m ê m e n 'e s t
q u 'u n p u r p h é n o m è n e o u a p p a ren ce bien fo n d é e , c o m m e en core l'e sp a c e e t le te m p s .' (Ib id . pp.
115-116.)
176 Cf. T h e o d ic y , Preface: 4I I y a d e u x L a b y r in th e s fa m e u x , o u n o tr e R a iso n s 'é g a re bien so u v e n t:
l'u n reg a rd e la g ra n d e Q u e stio n du Libre et du Nécessaire, s u r to u t d a n s la p r o d u c tio n e t da n s
l'O r ig in e du Mal; l'a u tr e co n siste d a n s la d iscu ssio n de la Continuité et des indivisibles, q u i e n p a r
a is se n t les E lé m e n s, e t o ù d o it e n tr e r la co n sid éra tio n de l’Infini. L e p r e m ie r em b a ra sse p re sq u e
to u t le G e n re-h u m a in , l'a u tr e n 'e x e r c e q u e le s P h ilo so p h e s.' (E rd m a n n p. 470.) Later on in the
T h e o d ic y (ib. p. 487, § 24) a parallel is established between the theological doctrine of Predesti
nation and the philosophical theory of the structure of the continuum: 4I I [Bayle] c ro it q u e la
d o c trin e d e la P ré d e stin a tio n e s t d e c e tte n a tu r e d a n s la T h éo lo g ie e t celle d e la co m p o sitio n du
continuum d a n s la P h ilo so p h ie . C e so n t e n e ffe t les d e u x L a b y r in th e s , q u i o n t e x e r c é d e to u s te m s
le s T h éo lo g ien s e t le s P h ilo so p h es. L ib e r tu s F ro m u n d u s [i.e. Libert Froidmont], T h éo lo g ien d e
L o u v a in . .. q u i a f o r t tra v a illé su r la G râce, e t q u i a a u ssi f a i t un L iv r e e x p r è s in titu lé Labyrinthus
sive de Compositione Continui [Antwerp 1631], a bien e x p r im é le s d iffic u lté s d e l'u n e t d e l'a u tr e .'
177 Cf. E rm a h n u n g ...» loc. cit.
CHAPTER II
178 Cf. W. Kabitz: 4 D ie B ild u n g sg e sc h ic h te d e s ju n g e n L e ib n itz ', in: Z e its c h r ift f ü r G e sch ich te
d e r E rzie h u n g u n d d e s U n te rric h ts, vol. II, Berlin 1912.
179 Ib id ., note to p. 138: i: C o m p e n d iu m R h e to ric a e , trib u s lib ris a d o rn a tu m , d e in ven tio n e, d is
p o s itio n e e t e lo c u tio n e O ra to ria , b revib u s e t p e rs p ic u is p r a e c e p tis co m p re h e n su m p r o illu stri
G y m n a sio Isle b ie n si. A u c to r e M . J . R h e n io , recto re. Islebii 1621. [Lipsiae 1629.]
ii. C o m p e n d iu m L o g ic a e p e rip a te tic a e e x P h illip o M e la n c h th o n e e t A r is to te le b revib u s n e c e s
sa riis, veris e t p e rs p ic u is p r e c e p tis a tq u e illu strib u s e x e m p lis e t sc h o liis d e se n te n tia p ra e s ta n -
tissim o ru m h u iu s sa e c u li P h ilo so p h o ru m ita co n c in n a tu m , u t lite r a ta e iu v e n tu ti in S c h o lis e t
A c a d e m iis a d n e c e ssa ria m in h a c a r te in s titu tio n e m e t a lia s c o n tro v e rsia s d iiu d ica n d a s a u t vu l
g a re m u su m p ra e s ta re p o s s it. A u c to r e M . J . R h e n io . Islebii 1621.
180 Leibnitz too shared that extraordinary passion for books for which the age is famous; to
the end of his life he attached much greater importance to books of all kinds than to people.
He himself tells the story of how, at the age of ten, he read through the whole vast library
which his father had assembled. (Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 126.) In one of his many self-por
traits he writes: 4 V ita e g e n u s a p u e ris se d e n tia riu m e t e x ig u i m o tu s f u i t . A b in e u n te a e ta te
m u lta leg it, p lu r a m e d ita tu s e st. C o n versa tio n is a p p e te n tia n o n m u lta : m a io r m e d ita tio n is e t
lectionis so lita rie .' (G u h ra u er vol. I, p. 60, note.)
181 Cf. Thomas Hobbes, L e v ia th a n , Part I, Chapter 2 (ed. Oakeshott, Oxford n.d., p. 10).
7* 195
182 Strict Lutheran orthodoxy governed the life not only of the University, but of the town of
Leipzig too. In this light the following observation in a New Year’s letter (1672) from Anna
Catharina Leibnitz to her brother in Paris should be read: ‘ Dearest brother, do not wonder
at my having recently written that I hoped you had not become a Calvinist, nor at what else
I may have said—people here speak so ill of you—although I have defended you all this time
—but a year ago or thereabouts some Leipzig burghers went there [to Paris] and they said so
—and I wrote to you about it because it is said all Lutherans and Jews are to leave Mainz.
Dear brother, take good care of yourself, in case the people there do not wish you well.’
(A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, p. 231.)
183 The most famous of the Helmstedt theologians was Georg Calixtus (died 1656), who in 1616
became Professor of Lutheran theology there. Against the claims of Lutheran orthodoxy he
stood for a more tolerant doctrinal attitude. In the first five centuries of Christian teaching he
discerned a basis for a new reunion of the Churches, which he advocated during the religious
discussions at Thom in 1645; accordingly he was accused of syncretism. Through his pupil
Gerhard Molanus, Abbot of Lokkum, he exercised some indirect influence upon the Hanover
Convention of 1683. Cf. E. L. Th. Henke: G eorg C a lix tu s u n d se in e Z e i t , Halle 1853, p a s s im .
184 Cf. G. E. Guhrauer’s L e ib n iz , 1846 (see above, note 2), vol. II p. 55. Cf. also Leibnitz’s frag
ments for the C h a ra c te ristic a U niversalis, where the following autobiographical note will be
found: ‘ C u m e g o a lec tio n e h isto ria ru m (quo a b in fa n tia m ir e fu e r a m d e le c ta tu s) e t s ty li
cura (q u a m ego in p r o s a lig a ta q u e e a fa c ilita te e x e rc u e r a m u t vereren tu r p ra e c e p to re s n e a d h a s
d elicia s a d h a erescerem ) tra d u c tu s essem a d lo g ica m e t p h ilo so p h ia m , tu m e g o u t p r im u m a liq u id
in h is re b u s in te llig e re coepi, D i b oni, q u a m m u lta s s ta tim ch im a era s in m e o cerebro n a ta s ch a rtis
illevi, q u a s su b in d e p ro p o n e b a m p rœ c e p to rib u s m ira n tib u s. In te r alia d u b ita tio n e m aliquando
m o v e b a m d e p ra e d ic a m e n tis. D ic e b a m e n im q u e m a d m o d u m h a b eren tu r p ra e d ic a m e n ta seu
cla sses n o tio n u m sim p lic iu m , ita d eb ere h a b e ri n o v u m p ra e d ic a m e n to ru m g en u s, in quo e t p r o
p o s itio n e s ipsae se u T e rm in i c o m p le x i ord in e n a tu r a li d isp o sita e h a b e re n tu r; sc ilic e t d e m o n
stra tio n e s tu n c n e c p e r so m n iu m co g n o vera m e t n escieb a m h o c ip su m , q u o d d e sid era b a m , fa c e r e
G e o m e tra s, q u i p ro p o s itio n e s e o ord in e collo ca n t, quo una e x a lia d em o n stra tu r. Ita q u e vana
q u id e m e r a t m e a d u b ita tio , s e d c u m e i n o n sa tisfa c e re n t p ra e c e p to re s, ergo n o v ita te cog n itio n es
p ro s e c u tu s, m o lie b a r co ndere h u iu s m o d i p ra e d ic a m e n ta T e rm in o ru m c o m p le x o ru m se u p ro p o s i
t i o n u m ' {G erhardt vol. VII, Chapter xi, p. 185.)
185 Cf. Guhrauer, op. c it., vol. I, pp. 20 fF., based on the following passage: 4F a c tu m e s t a u te m
n escio quo f a t o , u t e g o a d h u c p u e r in h a s co g ita tio n e s inciderem , q u a e u t so le n t p r im a e in cli
n a tio n e s, p o s te a se m p e r a ltissim a e in fix a e m e n ti h a e s e r e ' (G e rh a rd t, loc. cit.)
Leonhardt Hutter himself mentions Luther’s D e servo a rb itrio and the works of Aegidius
Hunnius, D e libero a rb itrio , which Leibnitz is fairly certain to have read by then. Cf. also W.
Kabitz (op. cit. above, note 178, p. 173).
186 Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 126, and T h e o d ic y , Preface: 4A p e in e a vo is-je a p p ris à e n ten d re p a s
s a b le m e n t le s L iv r e s L a tin s , q u e j 'e u s la c o m m o d ité d e fe u ille te r da n s une B ib lio th è q u e : j ' y volti-
g e o is d e L iv r e e n L iv r e , e t c o m m e les m a tiè r e s d e m é d ita tio n m e p la is o ie n t a u ta n t q u e les H is to ir e s
e t les F ables, j e f u s c h a rm é d e l'o u v ra g e d e L a u r e n t V alla c o n tr e B o'èce [Boethius], e t d e celui
d e L u th e r co n tre E ra sm e , quoique j e visse bien q u 'ils a v o ie n t beso in d 'a d o u c isse m e n t.' {E rdm ann
p. 476.)
187 Cf. J. G. Eckhart, D e s seligen H e r r n von L e ib n ü z L e b e n s la u f Nürnberg 1777. In a letter to
Boineburg’s widow (written towards the end of December 1673) Leibnitz enumerated all the
memoranda, projects and drafts which he had worked on in Boineburg’s service during his
time at Mainz. He adds: ‘ And I cannot leave two cardinal tasks unmentioned, for on each
of them I have spent almost a whole winter. The first of these is an In d e x covering his [Boine
burg’s] whole library, which I compiled upon his most insistent requests (albeit the labour of
copying was undertaken by others); nor has such an Index ever been made before, seeing that
everything is listed there most precisely and in detail, so that with its help all su b je c ts may be
quickly found, listed together with all the a u th o rs who treat of them; hence many a pamphlet
is there mentioned as often as ten times. He who knows something about the number of
books, and especially of those small pamphlets that are often bound together, will be able to
appraise the magnitude of this work.’ {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, no. 255, p. 380.)
188 Cf. especially N o ta n d a d a s B ü c h e rc o m m issa ria t b e tre ffe n d , J a n u a r 1670:
4§ 8. Whence it appears that the Commissary’s office is p ro v id e re n e q u id R e sp u b lic a p e r re m
litera ria m d e tr im e n ti capiat', hence especially the C en su ra lib ro ru m is to be brought before him,
so that nothing harmful be circulated abroad.
4§ 9. And it is well known what damage has often been done by a few books: Hippolytus
N O T E S. P A R T TW O 197
à Lapide’s, and recently the ones by Monzambanus [i.e. Pufendorf] and Bargoldensis, have
indeed greatly disturbed and agitated the minds of men. Hence circa p a rtic u la re s c o n tro versia s
e t in te re sse p rin c ip iu m , and especially in a c tis p u b lic is, certain first instructions and inspections,
bénéficient to Mainz above all other towns, appear now to be most necessary. . .
‘ § 10. In like manner all sorts of informations about Church and state-affairs—sometimes
harmful, sometimes dangerous—are spread abroad, wherein now His Imperial Majesty, now
the Empire, and now again some Foreign Potentate are attacked and scandalously slandered.. . .
‘ §11. Thus nothing is done by confiscating books when it is too late and when they have
already travelled in the world; instead, the books must be supervised in good time, so that the
Commissary be not the last to learn what the whole world knows already.’ {A c a d e m y 1st
series, vol. I, no. 24, pp. 49 ff.)
189 Cf. G erh a rd t vol. I, p. 57.
190 Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 185; cf. also Leibnitz’s autobiographical remark at the opening of
his S y s tè m e n o u vea u d e la N a tu r e , 1695, § 3: ‘ A u c o m m e n c e m e n t, lorsque j e m 'é to is a ffra n c h i
du jo u g d 'A r is to te , j'a v o is d o n n é d a n s le vide e t d a n s le s a to m e s, car c 'e s t ce q u i re m p lit le m ie u x
l'im a g in a tio n ; m a is e n é ta n t reven u , a p rè s bien d e s m é d ita tio n s j e m 'a p p e rç u s q u 'il e s t im p o ssib le
d e tro u v e r les principes d’une véritable unité d a n s la m a tiè r e seule, ou d a n s ce q u i n 'e s t q u e
p a s s if\ p u is q u e to u t n 'y e s t q u e c o llectio n o u a m a s d e p a r tie s à l'in fin i.' {E rd m a n n p. 124.)
191 On the subject of Descartes’s methodical doubt Leibnitz remarks: ‘ A better and clearer way
of putting Descartes’s precept to doubt everything would have been to say . . . : That it is neces
sary to search for the grounds [rationes] of every proposition.’ {G erh a rd t vol. IV, p. 354.)
In this formulation Descartes’s ‘ radical doubt ’ is recognized as an immanently rational
doubt; hence Leibnitz can claim that his is a ‘ better and clearer way of putting ’ it: to ask
for the ‘ grounds of every proposition ’ is meaningful, for the Godhead in which these grounds
are founded appears to the Cartesian mind as concretely and demonstrably given.
192 Cf. Leibnitz’s second letter to M. Rémond de Montmort, Vienna, 14.3.1714: ‘ M. Locke
a v o it d e la s u b tilité e t d e l'a d re sse , e t q u elq u e esp èce d e m é ta p h y siq u e su p erficielle q u 'il sa v o it
re le v e r; m a is i l ig n o r o it la m é th o d e d e s M a th é m a tic ie n s .' {E rd m a n n p. 703.) Third letter to
Rémond, Vienna, 26.8.1714: ‘ J e m e fie r o is d 'a v a n ta g e à S c a lig e r, c a r V ives é to it u n p e u su p e r
fic ie l.' {Ibid. p. 704.) Fifth letter to Dr. Samuel Clarke, § 26: ‘ La p h ilo so p h ie su p erficielle ,
c o m m e ce lle d e s A to m is te s e t d e s V a c u iste s, se fo r g e d e s ch o ses q u e le s ra iso n s su p é rie u re s n 'a d
m e tte n t p o in t.' {Ibid. p. 766.)
193 Cf. the first legal and philosophical treatises, written in the early days at Leipzig, especially
nos. 4 and 9 in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I.
194 Cf. letter to Jacob Thomasius, 2.9.1663, in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 1.
195 Leibnitz’s own contemporaries were often speaking of their ‘ p ä d o g o g isc h e s S ä c u lu m ’. Thus
Jacob Friedrich Reimmanns, Superintendent of the Evangelical Churches at Hildesheim,
polyhistor and Leibnitz’s friend and correspondent, writes in his autobiography, H isto ris c h e
N a c h ric h te n von sich se lb st : ‘ I have seen the day when now this science and now that, and in
the arts [bey d e r cultur] now this method and now again another were extolled and acclaimed;
and when the scientists, like bees, fell now upon this flower and now again on that, believing
that they had found in it a special sweetness. There was a certain age when learned E r o te m a ta
were admired; then came the C a le n d a ria ’, then again L e x ic a . At the present time the learned
gentlemen can find no pleasure in a repast that has not been prepared and served up in a mathe
matical manner; and before long metaphysical tit-bits will once more be all the rage.’ (Quoted
from: S e lb s tze u g n isse a u s d e m d e u tsc h e n B a ro c k , ed. M. Beyer-Froehlich, Leipzig 1930, p. 188.)
196 A typical testimony is the following, by Pastor Feuerlein of Nuremburg, written in 1699:
‘ This sa e c u lu m lite ra riu m is so m a th e m a tic u m that he who wishes to proceed accurately in
any subject, even in m o ra lib u s e t p h ilo so p h ic is, must apply to it m e th o d u m m a th e m a tic a m .'
(Quoted from F. A. Tholuck’s D a s a k a d e m isc h e L e b e n d e s sie b ze h n te n J a h rh u n d e rts. Halle
1853-1854, vol. I, p. 93.)
197 Cf. E. Spiess: E r h a r d W eig el, d e r L e h r e r von L e ib n itz u n d P u fe n d o rf. E in L e b e n s b ild a u s d e m
sie b ze h n te n J a h rh u n d e rt. Leipzig 1881, p. 20.
198 Ib id . pp. 19 ff.
199 Cf. the Contemporary description of Platonic ideas: * the prime truths which are engraved
in the heart of every man ’. The identification of virtue with knowledge, and Weigel’s dictum,
‘ Whoever wishes to practise virtue and avoid vice must calculate with great precision ’ (Spiess,
op. cit. p. 20), are all part of the seventeenth-century ideology.
200 Cf. Tholuck, op. cit. pp. 75 ff.
201 The following correspondence between the Helmstedt legal scholar Hermann Conring and
von Boineburg, conducted in 1663, illustrates the state of affairs. In it Conring writes: ‘ To
write in French is unworthy of a man of learning who is, surely, born to be useful to the w hole
Republic of Learning and not merely to one sin g le nation, whose majority is uncouth and
incapable of understanding and judging things which have to do with more thorough scholar
ship.*
In the course of his reply Boineburg writes: ‘ I too am full of indignation whenever I hear
that Frenchmen write almost all their books in their mother-tongue, even though I flatter
myself to understand it quite well. The English too, the Italians, Spaniards, Dutch and
all others write their best books in their own language, as if they neither understood Latin
nor had ever learned it. Indeed, in Spain this has gone so far that even in the disputations held
in the course of academic exercises no other but the mother-tongue is used. It would be well
if Folieta,’Corradus, Manutius, Germonius and all those other men who wrote in favour of
retaining Latin . . . could rise from their graves.. . . ’ (Quoted from W. Schmid-Kowarzik’s ed.,
G . W . L e ib n iz : D e u tsc h e S c h rifte n , vol. I, Leipzig 1916-, p. xiii of the Introduction, where
further extracts will be found. Cf. also C o n rin g u s: O pera O m n ia . Heidelberg 1680.) This
argument shows clearly what were Leibnitz’s difficulties when he defended his views against
the conviction of his friends, and when he stood up for Weigel’s teaching against the weighty
opinion of almost the whole ‘ Republic of Learning ’.
202 Cf. the memorandum ‘ K u r tz e s w o h l g e m e y n te s B e d e n c k e n vom A b g a n g d e r S tu d ie n u n d wie
den en selb en z u h e i f f en. A u f B e g e h re n d e s H . von Ilg e n , K . p r . S ta a tsm in iste r s, e x te m p o re e n t-
w o rffen . Berlin 14.3.1711 ’, in: K lo p p vol. X, pp. 435-442, where Leibnitz suggests that Latin
—* lingua E u ro p a e a u n iversa lis e t d u ra b ilis ’—should be retained in public lectures and dis
putations, while for private lectures he advocates the use of German'besides Latin. He con
tinues: ‘ To practise the mother-tongue is most necessary and useful, above all for theologians
and jurists, and an opportunity for it must be given in special public and private classes.*
However, we cannot be certain to what extent this memorandum represents Leibnitz’s own
views, for it is ‘ sketched out e x te m p o re upon the behest of Herr von Ilgen, Royal Prussian
Minister of State *. For expedient reasons Leibnitz frequently adapted his argument to the
views of his employers, thus being able to bring in his own ideas unobtrusively and under a
different name, and to give effect to them without arousing much comment.
But there is no doubt that Leibnitz adhered to the Humanist doctrine, which regarded Latin
and Greek as the foundations of all academic education.
203 Cf. especially E rm a h n u n g a n d ie T e u tsc h e n , ihren V e rsta n d u n d ihre S p ra c h e b e sse r z u ü b en ,
written probably shortly after the Peace of Nymwegen of 1683 (first published by Grotefend,
Hanover 1846, and later by P. Pietsch, ‘ L e ib n itz u n d d ie d e u tsc h e S p ra c h e ’, in: W is s e n s c h a ft
liche B e ih e fte z u r Z e its c h r ift d e s a llg e m e in e n d e u tsc h e n S p ra c h v e re in s , IVth series, no. 29,
Berlin 1907), where national sentiments are directly related to the question of language: ‘ I
know many noble Frenchmen, who, in the course of their journeys and affairs, have had both
occasion and desire to learn our language; and of these men I must say that it was neither lack
of reflection nor disgust that caused them to speak of it in words of contempt, but mere aston
ishment at our absurdity. . . . I had rather not describe my feelings on these occasions; but let
every man who can hear of or read this without emotion make certain whether he has German
blood in his veins. Indeed, it is difficult both to love one*s fatherland and not complain of
this calamity.’
204 Cf. N o v a M e th o d u s d iscen d a e do cen d a eq u e Iu r is p r u d e n tia e , § 65, in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I,
no. 10, p. 337.
205 Ib id . § 98, pp. 361 ff., containing advice on how to organize a ‘ c o lleg iu m d isp u ta to riu m e t p r a e -
tic u m ‘ M o d u s tr a c ta n d i n o n s it d iffu su s sy llo g istic u s , s e d G erm a n icu s p ra c tic u s, u t in iudicio.
In d e d is c e n t “ von Mund auss in die Feder verfahren ”, se u o re te n u s p ro p o n e re , e t e x te m p o re
resp o n d ere e t replicare. A c to r f o r m e t ca su m in seinem Satz, in su a p ro p o sitio n e , e t a ffe ra t arg u
m e n ta p r o , R e u s re sp o n d e a t e t a ffe r a t a rg u m e n ta co n tra , b re v issim e sin e in u tiliu m verborum
co a cerva tio n e , h a ec recip ro ca tio b is fi a t. . . . V ulgaris en im in A c a d e m iis d isp u ta n d i m o s in c o m
m u n i vita n o n e s t u sita tu s, tu m q u ia L a tin u s , tu m q u ia in te rru p tio n ib u s c re b e r .’
206 Cf. the essay * D e o p tim a p h ilo so p h i D ic tio n e prefacing Leibnitz’s edition of Nizolius’s D e
V eris P rin c ip iis . . . » Frankfurt 1670, where he writes: ‘ Illu d ta m e n asserere a u sim , h u ic te n ta -
m e n to p ro b a tio rio a tq u e e x a m in e p h ilo so p h e m a tu m p e r lin g u a m viva m , n u lla m esse in E u ro p a
lin g u a m G e rm a n ica a p tio re m , q u ia G e rm a n ic a in rea lib u s p le n issim a e s t e t p e r fe c tis s im a , a d
in vid ia m o m n iu m ca e te ra ru m , c u m a rte s rea les e t in te r e a s m e c h a n ic a e a m u ltis saeculis a nulla
g e n te sin t d ilig e n tiu s e x c u lta e , usque adeo u t ip si T u re a e in fo d in is G ra ecia e e t A s ia e m in o ris
vocabulis m e ta llic is G erm a n o ru m u ta n tu r. C o n tra a d c o m m e n titia e x p rim e n d a lingua G e rm a n ica
e s t fa c ile in e p tissim a , lo n g e q u id e m G allica Ita lic a q u e e t c a e te ris la tin a e p ro p a g in ib u s ineptior,
quia in L a tin a e filia b u s , voce L a tin o -b a rb a r a le v ite r in fle x a s ta tim f i t G a llica a u t Ita lic a non-
barb a ra , unde e t m u lta p h ilo so p h ia e S c h o la s tic a e in G a llicu m q u o m o d o cu n q u e ta m e n tra n sla ta
h a b e n tu r ; a t in G erm a n ia n e m o h a c te n u s ta le qu icq u a m , n is i o m n iu m sib ilis e x c e p tu s, te n ta v it.
S e d s i te r m in o s L a tin o s re tin e re a u t d eto rq u ere vo lu isset aliquis, h o c ia m e r a t n o n g e rm a n ic e se d
la tin e ph ilo so p h a ri, n e c h a b u isse t a liu m u su m n e c in te lle c tu m fu i s s e t a q u o q u a m la tin a tis im p e rito ,
q u ia G e rm a n ica a la tin a to to coelo d is ta t, q u o d se c u s e s t in Ita lic a G allicaque. A tq u e h a e c causa
f u i t p h ilo so p h ia e a p u d n o s seriu s vernaculo se r m o n e tr a c ta ta e , q u ia lingua G e rm a n ica n o n a
p h ilo so p h ia q u id e m , a barbara ta m e n p h ilo so p h ia [j c . scholasticism] a b h o rru it, c u m vero barbara
p h ilo so p h a n d i ra tio sero s it p u lsa , m ir u m e tia m n o n e st, ta rd ig ra d a m in p h ilo so p h a n d o n o stra m
U nguam fu is s e .* (G e rh a rd t vol. IV, p. 141.)
207 Cf. A cadem y lind series, vol. I, p. 83. The MS. of this work is lost.
208 The draft proposals for the constitution of a patriotic society—D e u tsc h lie b e n d e G e se llsc h a ft —
were written (according to Klopp’s estimate) after the conclusion of the Peace of Ryswik in
1697; there Leibnitz writes;. ‘ Above all the sa v a n ts themselves are blameworthy, for they
spend too much time in empty thoughts and distant speculations d e fo r m i s e t q u a lita tib u s
v e l d e a to m is e t p a rtic u lis ab u su re m o tis, of which no use can be made. Others again, whose
work is practical, are capable of reflecting only very little on things, seeing that they are too
much preoccupied with the care of making a living, and that they receive very little help from
the powers that be. And the powers that be in their turn fail to give this necessary help because
they neither know nor trust the motives and reasons behind all this; and if they ever do spend
something on such enquiries—and spend it at the right time, too—they do it for the sake of
honour and glory rather than from expectations of usefulness and profit.’ (K lo p p vol. VI.
p. 214.)
209 Cf. B e d e n c k e n von a u ffric h tu n g e in e r A c a d e m ie o d e r S o c ie tä t in T eu tsch la n d , z u A u fn e h m e n d e r
K ü n s te u n d W isse n sc h a ffte n , in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 543 ff. In another essay, U nvor-
g re ijfiic h e G e d a n c k e n b e tr e ffe n d d ie A u sü b u n g u n d V erb esseru n g d e r T e u tsc h e n S p ra c h e of 1697,
Leibnitz’s *B a r o c k p a tr io tis m u s ' (as B. Erdmannsdörfer calls it; cf. his D e u tsc h e G e sc h ic h te
1648-1740, 2 vols. Berlin 1892, p a s s im ) is expressed: ‘ Among Italians or Frenchmen I have
often boasted: That we Germans have a remarkable touchstone of ideas, unknown to other
nations; and then, when they became anxious to know something about it I pointed out to
them that it is our language—for whatever can here be said without loaned or unusual words,
is indeed something honest; but empty words with nothing behind them, or a mere foam
(so to speak) of idle thoughts—these the pure German language does not tolerate.’ (G u h ra u er
vol. I, p. 449.) Yet it is revealing to compare the number of Leibnitz’s own German writings
with his foreign works (taking into account only whatever is extant in MS. or in print) and
thus to realize to what extent his own practice belied his precepts; the whole of his German
writings comes to c. 1500 or (at the utmost) 2000 pages, while his foreign works come to a
• figure about twelve times as high.
210 In the Spring of 1682 Weigel had submitted to the Saxon Estates his memorandum (‘ G ehor
sa m e s M e m o r ia l ’) for the establishing of a C o lle g iu m A r tis C o n s u lto r u m ; on 11.4.1682 Leibnitz
writes anxiously from Hanover to Christian Philipp, the Saxon representative at Hamburg,
to ask how far the negotiations have gone : ‘ O n m e m a n d e q u e M o n s . W eig eliu s a f a i t q u elques
p ro p o s itio n s à M e s sie u r s le s E s ta is d u p a y s d e S a x e , j e sero is b ie n a isé d 'e n sça vo ir le d é ta il .’
(A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, no. 461, p. 529.) Christian Philipp’s reassuring reply from Dres
den is dated 21.4.1682: ‘. . . M r W eig eliu s s 'e s t f o r t p r o s titu é ic y p a r se s p ro p o sitio n s, q u i c o n
sista ie n t à co rrig er le g lo b e te rre stre e t c é lé ste ; à a p p ren d re à é crire a u x e n fa n s, p a r le m o y e n
d 'u n p a ra llé lo g ra m m e , e n fo r m e d 'u n g r il; à leu r a p p ren d re to u te s so r te s d e scie n c e s en les fa is a n t
m o n te r su r un ch e v a l d e bois, q u i s e r o it tiré e tc . L e s E ta ts o n t m is d a n s leu rs m é m o ire s, q u 'o n
n e tro u v o it p a s se s in ven tio n s p r a ttic a b le s , m a is q u 'o n lu y d e v o it d o n n e r 1 0 0 é c u s p o u r sa p e in e .
I l a e sté ic y p lu sieu rs f o i x a u x ta b le s d e q u elques seigneurs, où l'o n s 'e s t m o c q u é o u v e rte m e n t de
lu y ; d e so rte q u e j e crois, q u 'il a u ro it b ie n m ie u x f a i t d e n 'e s tr e ja m a is venu ic y .' (Ib id . no. 464,
P. 534.) .
This, too, was the kind of private or secret information Leibnitz was receiving from his
correspondents all over Europe.
211 Cf. G rundriss . . . ; cf. above, note 209.
212 ‘ The College which is to be established in the Empire he calls C o lle g iu m A r tis C o n su lto ru m ,
a name that seems clumsy for a number of reasons; and it often happens that things are rejected
or despised if they have no adequate name. . . . And further, such a College is to be grounded
not only in “ a rtific ia lia " , but also in “ n a tu ra lia (G uhrauer vol. II, p. 473.)
213 Cf. letter to Christian Philipp, Hanover, 11.3.1681: 'M o n s . W eig eliu s a b eaucoup d 'e s p r it
sa n s d o u te ; m a is so u v e n t il e s t p e u in tellig ib le, e t il s e m b le q u 'il n 'a p a s to u sjo u rs d e s p e n sé e s
b ie n n e tte s. J e v o u d ro it q u 'il s'a p p liq u â t p lu s to s t à n o u s d o n n e r q u a n tité d e b elles o b serva tio n s,
q u 'il a p û fa i r e e n p r a c tiq u a n t les m éca n iq u es, q u e d e s 'a m u se r à d e s ra iso n n e m e n ts g é n é r a u x ,
oit i l m e se m b le i l se p e r d qu elques fo i s . N o n o b sta n t to u t cela j e n e laisse p a s d e l'e s tim e r b ea u
c o u p .' {A c a d e m y 1st series, Illrd vol., no. 388, p. 466.) In the N o u v e a u x E ssa is Leibniz writes:
‘ F e u M . E r h a r d W eig el, M a th é m a tic ie n d e J e n a en T h uringe, in v e n ta in g én ieu sem en t d e s fig u re s
q u i re p ré se n ta ie n t d e s ch o ses m o r a le s .. . . J 'e s p è r e s i D ie u m e do n n e le te m p s q u 'il f a u t p o u r cela,
d 'e n fa ir e voir quelque essa i un jo u r , en m e tta n t c es m o y e n s e n usage e ffe c tiv e m e n t, sa n s m e
b o rn er a u x p r é c e p te s .' {E rd m a n n p. 349.)
In the T h e o d ic y Leibnitz discusses Weigel’s proof of God: ‘ F e u M . E r h a r d W eigel, M a th é
m a tic ie n e t P h ilo so p h e célè b re à J e n a , co n n u p a r so n A n a ly s is E u clid ea , sa P h ilo so p h ie M a th é
m a tiq u e , q u elq u es In v e n tio n s m éca n iq u es a s s e z jo lie s , e t enfin p a r la p e in e q u 'il s 'e s t do n n é de
p o r te r le s P rin c e s P r o te s ta n ts d e l'E m p ir e à la d ern ière r é fo rm e d e VA lm a n a c , d o n t il n 'a p o u r ta n t
p a s vu le su c c è s [i.e. the reform of the calendar, 1698]; M . W eig e l, dis-je, c o m m u n iq u o it à ses
a m is u n e ce rta in e d é m o n str a tio n d e l'e x is te n c e d e D ie u , q u i re v e n o it en e ffe t à c e tte création
co n tin u é e . E t c o m m e i l a v o it c o u tu m e d e fa i r e d e s p a ra llè le s e n tr e c o m p te r e t ra iso n n er . . . il
d is o it q u e le fo n d e m e n t d e la d é m o n str a tio n é to it ce c o m m e n c e m e n t d e la T a b le P y th a g o riq u e ,
une f o i s un e s t un. C e s u n ité s ré p é té e s é to ie n t les m o m e n ts d e l'e x is te n c e d e s choses, d o n t chacun
d é p e n d o it d e D ie u , q u i ressu scite, p o u r a in si dire, to u te s le s ch o ses h o rs d e lui, à chaque m o m e n t.'
{E rd m a n n p. 615; cf. also note 118 above.)
214 The demand for an encyclopaedic education Leibnitz first expressed in his dissertation for
the Master’s degree in 1664. By illustrating his argument with the aid of a large number of
marginal cases drawn from all parts of philosophy, Leibnitz hoped to prove that the study of
Law requires a broad and all-embracing philosophical foundation, such as early jurists had
possessed and contemporary legal specialists believed to be redundant. Thus the dissertation
became a S p e c im e n en cyclo p a ed ia e in lu r e , as he called it later; and its central idea is taken
up once again in his memorandum for the Elector Johann Philipp of Schönbom, N o v a M e th o
d u s discen d a e d o cendaeque J u risp ru d en tia e of 1667 (cf. above, note 204.)
215 Cf. B e d e n c k e n . . . , in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, § 13, p. 546.
216 Ib id . § 3, pp. 543-544.
Quietism in any of its forms—either as an act of passive resignation into the hands of God,
or as fatalism-—Leibnitz disliked and attacked throughout his whole life (cf. Preface to the
T h e o d ic y , in E rd m a n n p. 471 ; also his letter to the Amstadt mystic Andreas Morell, 1.10.1697;
and in Jean Baruzi, T ro is D ia lo g u e s [see above, note 6], pp. 338 and 341).
The link with which Leibnitz wished to connect the ‘ so la g ra tia ’ and the 4so la fid e ’ was later
established by the conception of the active monad; cf. below, Part II, Chapter IV.
217 Cf. G rundriss ein es B e d e n c k e n s von a u ffric h tu n g e in e r S o c ie tä t in T e u tsc h la n d z u a u ffn e h m e n
d e r K ü n s te u n d W isse n sc h a ffte n , in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, no. 43, § 5, pp. 536 ff.
218 Ib id ., Draft C, p. 540.
219 Ib id ., Draft C, p. 537.
220 Ib id ., Draft C, p. 540.
221 Ib id ., § 24, p. 536.
222 Cf. John Aubrey, L e tte r s w ritte n b y e m in e n t P e rso n s in th e S e v e n te e n th a n d E ig h te e n th C en
tu rie s: to w hich a re a d d e d . . . L iv e s o f E m in e n t M e n , London 1813, vol. I, p. 604, where the
following famous anecdote about Hobbes is recounted: ‘ He was forty years old before hç
looked on geometry, which happened accidentally; being in a gentleman’s library in . . . ,
Euclid’s E le m e n ts lay open, and it was the 47th Prop. Lib. I. So he reads the proposition,
“ By G----- ,” says he, “ this is impossible!” So he reads the demonstration of it, which referred
him back to another, which he also read, e t sic dein ce p s , that at last he was demonstratively
convinced of that truth. This made him in love with geometry.’
223 This new consciousness comes out most clearly in Leibnitz’s letter to the Elector of Mainz,
20.12.1672, in which he demonstrates to his master the connections between the A c a d é m ie
d e s S c ie n c e s and the political and economic situation in France: ‘ After the King had
entrusted the Royal revenues to the famous Colbert. . . it became Colbert’s greatest care to
enquire how to organize the shipping, manufacture and trade of a France that was now at
peace. The prosperity of such things, however, derives from a study of Nature and mathe
matics. For he who can improve upon the production of those goods which are necessary or
useful to the life of men, either by making them better for the same money, or as good but with
less effort, or transport them with less risk and difficulty, will—even without privileges and
monopolies, merely because of his good trading—find customers in every nation and even
among enemies, and thus have the whole world even against its will for his market.’ {A c a d e m y
1st series, vol. I, no. 203, p. 296.)
But Leibnitz also envisaged his S o c ie ty to have certain political and sociâl aims in view; thus
in the brief notes on 4 S o c ie tä t u n d W ir ts c h a ft ’ he notes that 4it must be the aim of such a
S o c ie ty to free the manual worker from his terrible poverty.* Cf. also the memorandum of
1671 {A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 543 ff.), where the Italian, French and English academies
are described.
224 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, § 18, p. 538.
225 Cf. G. E. Guhrauer: L e ib n iz , vol. II, pp. 54 ff., Appendix V ita L e ib n itii a se ipso b re v ite r
delin ea ta .
226 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Amauld, written towards the end of 1671, in G e rh a rd t vol. I, p. 73.
227 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Amauld of April 1687. {G ro te fe n d pp. 92-93; cf. below, note 295.)
228 Cf. John Amos Comenius: U n u m N e c e ssa r iu m . Amsterdam 1668, Chapter V, §§ 3, 4.
229 Cf. John Amos Comenius: P a n so p h ia e P ro d ro m u s. London 1639, §7.
230 The image of the monad as a mirror of the universe was used long before Leibnitz, i.e. in the
main works of Comenius. This has been pointed out by D. Mahnke in his essay 4 D ie R a tio n a
lisieru n g d e r M y s t i k b e i L e ib n iz u n d K a n t \ in: B lä tte r f ü r d e u ts c h e P h ilo so p h ie vol. XIII,
nos. 1 and 2, Berlin 1939.
231 Cf. above, Part I, Chapter III, section 8. For a discussion of Comenius’s mysticism as an
influence upon the work of Leibnitz, cf. D. Mahnke, 4 D e r B a ro c k -U n iv e r sa lism u s d e s C o m
en iu s ’, in: Z e its c h r ift f ü r d ie G e sch ich te d e r E rzie h u n g , vol. XXI, 1931.
232 Cf. the memorandum on the position of Cannstadt, in A cadem y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 107 ff.
233 Ib id . §§ 47-49, pp. 107-108.
234 Cf. note 182 above.
235 The work which Leibnitz began in collaboration with H. A. Lasser, C o rp u s Iu r is R e c o n -
c in n a tu m , never got beyond countless fragmentary notes ; cf. Leibnitz’s letter to the Emperor,
dated Hanover, August [?] 1671, in A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, no. 26, pp. 57 ff.
236 Leibnitz is referring to the A c a d e m ia d e l C im e n to of Florence; later on he entered into corre
spondence with H. Fabri, one of its members.
237 William Harvey’s famous E x e r c ita tio a n a to m ic a d e m o tu co rd is e t sa n g u in is in A n im a lib u s
appeared in 1628. Among other anatomists whom the twenty-three-year-old lawyer has in
mind: the Frenchman Jean Pecquet { flo r u it 1650), the Dane Bartholinus (died 1680), the
famous English physician Richard Lower (died 1691), and above all John Baptist Dionysius,
who since 1664 lectured privately at home, defending Harvey’s account of the circulation
of the blood.
238 The first scientific foundations of chemistry were laid by Robert Boyle, who used the term
4Art of Fire ’; among early German physicists, Kunkel, Becher and Stahl (1660-1734) may be
mentioned. But Leibnitz seems here to refer to his own experiences with the Nuremberg
Rosicrucians.
239 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, §§ 52, 53, p. 108.
Cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to the Emperor: 4It is known only too well how utterly confused is
jurisprudence both in the schools and in the courts.’ (Cf. above, note 235.)
240 4To be Tutor to a gentleman of especial expectations and uncommon hopes requires know
ledge and experience of many things, among them European languages, matter for discourse
and conversation, also some [physical] exercises.’ {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, p. 318.)
241 The following is Philipp Wilhelm von Boineburg’s time-table in Paris, 1672, as devised for
him by Leibnitz:
‘ 5£ : To rise and dress; prayers.
6 to 7 : Read what the language-master taught yesterday, or do the work he has set, in order
to be ready for him when he comes.
7 to 8: Language-master; especially pronunciation and spelling, also translation from Latin
into French.
8 to 9: Mathematics master, to instruct especially in fu n d a m e n tis A r ith m e tic a e e t G e o m etrica e
E le m e n ta ris.
9 to 10: Mass and Sermon.
10 to 11 and 11 to 12: Exercises, i.e. dancing and fencing masters.
12 o’clock: Lunch.
1 to 2: Rest, or discourse with M. Heissen and his wife.
2 to 3 and 3 to 4: History and Geography, to gain an understanding of Universal History, of
the circumstances and frontiers of states as well as a little Chronology, Genealogies and
Heraldry.
4 to 5 : The language-master.
5 to 6: The guitar-master.
6 to 7 : Time for private study and reading of a useful and at thé same time agreeable kind.
NB! The time from 5 to 7 may often be used for a visit to the playhouse.
7 to 8 : Dinner.
8 to 10 etc.: This time is to be used for discourse, recapitulation of the day’s teaching, working
out the tasks imposed by the various masters, or for reading a diverting yet useful book.’
In the margin of this carefully worked-out time-table the young Baron made the following
brief note:
4 Morning. To get up at 5^, dress, prayers, read Fre., see language-master for 1 hr., also spend
1 hr. (on some days) on'Math., Hist., Geo. One must also go to Church. And take exercise.
Meals.
‘ Afternoon. Discourse. Again language-master, for 1 hr. Guitar-teacher. As for the rest:
not tied to any time-table.’ (A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, no. 226, p. 332.)
242 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Johannes Jacobus Münch (in the Baron von Boineburg’s service, later
secretary to the Baron’s widow, Anna Christina von Boineburg), Autumn 1673. {A c a d e m y 1st
series, vol. I, no. 251, p. 370.)
243 Cf. G. E. Guhrauer, L e ib n iz , vol. II, pp. 205 ff.
244 D isc o u rs § 32 and S y s tè m e n o u vea u d e la N a tu r e §§ 14 ff., in G erh a rd t vol. IV, pp. 457-458, and
484-485. Leibnitz’s 4h y p o th è s e d e s acco rd s ’ explains the ‘ harmony ’ of all individual beings
not (as occasionalism does) externally, by means of ‘ real ’ influences, but as an inner, divinely
determined 4a c c o rd ré g lé p a r a va n ce '.
245 This ‘ a c c o rd ré g lé p a r a va n ce * corresponds precisely to the later term 4h a rm o n ie p ré -é ta b lie ' ;
Leibnitz’s final terminology is used for the first time in a draft of a letter to Basnage, written
early in 1696 (cf. G erh a rd t vol. Ill, p. 122).
CHAPTER III
246 Cf. Pascal: P en sées, § 182: 4 C a r enfin q u ’e st-c e q u e Vh o m m e da n s la N a tu r e ? U n n é a n t à l'é g a rd

d e l'in fin i , un to u t à l'é g a r d d u n é a n t , un m ilie u en tre rien e t to u t. In fin im e n t élo ig n é d e c o m
p re n d r e les e x tr ê m e s , la fi n d e s ch o ses e t leu r p rin c ip e so n t p o u r lu i in vin cib lem en t ca chés da n s
un se c re t im p én étra b le.
Q u e p o u rr a -t-il d o n c co n cevo ir ? S e ra -c e l'in fin i ? S e ra -c e le n é a n t ? I l e s t é g a le m e n t incapable
d e voir le n éa n t, d 'o ù il e s t tir é , e t l'in fin i, où i l e s t e n g lo u ti.' {E d. C lu n y , Paris n. d. vol. I, pp.
114-115.)
247 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 17: 4E t fe ig n a n t, q u 'il y a it une M a c h in e , d o n t la stru c tu r e fa s s e p e n se r, sen tir,
a vo ir p e rc e p tio n , on p o u rra la co n cevo ir a g g randie en co n serva n t les m ê m e s p ro p o rtio n s, e n so rte
q u 'o n y p u is se en tre r c o m m e d a n s un m o u lin . E t cela p o s é , on ne tro u v e ra en la v isita n t dedans
q u e d e s p iè c e s q u i p o u ss e n t les u n es le s a u tr e s , e t ja m a is d e q u o i e x p liq u e r une p e rc e p tio n . A in s i
c 'e s t d a n s la su b sta n c e sim p le e t non d a n s le co m p o sé, ou d a n s la m ach in e, q u 'il la f a u t cherch er.'
( E rd m a n n p. 706.) (4Suppose that there were a machine so constructed as to produce thought,
feeling and perceptions, we could imagine it increased in size while retaining the same pro
portions, so that one could enter it as one might a mill. On going inside we should only see
the parts impinging upon one another; we should not see anything that would explain a
perception. The explanation of perception must therefore be sought in a simple substance, and
not in a compound or in a machine.’ Cf. E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 5.)
248 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y §86 {E v e ry m a n 's ed. p. 19.)
249 Cf. Foucher de Careil’s In tro d u c tio n : ‘ L e ib n iz , j e l'a i d it e t j e le rep ète, n 'a p a s tr a ité e x p ro fe sso
d e la p h ilo so p h ie . O n n e sa u ra it s'e m p re n d r e à lu i d e la d iv e rsité d e s p o in ts d e vu e: su iv a n t q u 'il
e s t th éo lo g ien , ju r isc o n s u lte , p o litiq u e o u m o n a d o lo g u e, le p o in t d e vue c h a n g e e t la fo r m e avec
lui. O n a u ra it d o n c to r t, d a n s sa d é fe n se , d 'ê tr e p lu s sy s té m a tiq u e q u 'il n 'a é té .' { L e ttr e s p. Lij.)
250 Cf. L. Feuerbach: D a rste llu n g d e r L e ib n itz isc h e n P h ilo so p h ie . Leipzig 1848, p. 23: ‘ His
philosophy is a Milky Way of beautiful and brilliant thoughts, not a solar or planetary system.’
251 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Jean de Coste, 16.6.1707, in G e rh a rd t vol. Ill, p. 392; cf. also the letter
to Rémond, 14.3.1714: ‘ M a i s j e m e s u is d é g o û té d e p u b lie r d e s r é fu ta tio n s d e s a u te u rs m o rts,
q u o y q u 'e lle s d u sse n t p a r o îtr e p e n d a n t leu r vie, e t e stre c o m m u n iq u é e s à e u x m ê m e s. Q u elq u es
p e tite s rem a rq u es m 'é c h a p p è re n t, j e n e s a y c o m m e n t, e t fu r e n t p o r té e s e n A n g le te r r e p a r un
p a r e n t d e f e u M . B u r n e t, E v ê q u e d e S a lisb u ry . M . L o c k e le s a y a n t vues e n p a r la a vec m é p ris
d a n s une le ttr e à M . M o lin e a u x , q u 'o n p e u t tro u v e r p a r m y d 'a u tr e s le ttr e s p o s th u m e s d e M r .
L o c k e . J e n 'e n a ppris so n ju g e m e n t q u 'a p rè s c e tte im p ressio n . J e n e m 'e n é to n n e p o in t: no u s
e stio n s un p e u tro p d iffé r e n s e n p rin c ip e s, e t ce q u e j'a v a n ç o is lu y p a ro isso it d e s p a r a d o x e s .'
{G erhardt vol. III, p. 612.)
252 Cf. T h e o d ic y , Part III, § 348, E rd m a n n p. 605.
253 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y §61, E rd m a n n p. 710, E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 14.
254 The famous maxim ‘ N a tu r a n o n f a c i t s a ltu s ’ (cf. N o u v e a u x E s s a is , P ré fa c e , in L a n g le y p. 50)
was first used by Raoul Fournier (1562-1627, author of R e r u m q u o tid ia n a ru m lib ri tres, Paris
1605) in the V aria H is to r ic a [V a rié té s h isto riq u e s e t littéraires], Paris 1613, vol. IX, p. 247;
and in his d e S e rm o n is L a tin i stu d io [n. d., before 1627].
255 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 28, E rd m a n n p. 707, E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 8.
256 Ib id , § 29.
257 Ib id , § 30.
258 C o u tu ra t: P ré fa c e , p. xi, Note.
259 Letter to Jacob Spener, 8.7.1687, reprinted in L. Stein, L e ib n iz u n d S p in o z a . Berlin 1890,
pp. 320-321; cf. also below, note 392.
260 Cf. Descartes’s letter to Mersenne, 20.11.1629, which Leibnitz copied out and annotated;
cf. Leibnitz’s F ra g m e n ts P h ilo so p h iq u es V. 6c, beginning with the sentence, ‘ I l y a m o y e n
d 'in v e n te r une la ngue o u éc ritu re au m o in s, d o n t le s c a ra ctères e t m o ts p r im itifs se r o ie n t fa i t s en
so rte q u 'e lle p o u r r o it e stre en seig n ée e n f o r t p e u d e te m p s, e t ce p a r le m o y e n d e l'o rd re . . . .’
{C o u tu ra t p. 27.) Cf. also the P r o je t d 'u n A r t d 'in v e n te r, 1686: ‘ L 'u n iq u e m o y e n d e red resser
n o s ra iso n n e m e n ts e s t d e les re n d re a u ssi sen sib les q u e le so n t c e u x d e s M a th é m a tic ie n s , e n so r te
q u 'o n p u is se tro u v e r so n erreu r à vue d 'œ il, e t q u a n d il y a d e s d is p u te s e n tr e le s g e n s, on p u is se
d ire se u le m e n t: C o m p to n s, sa n s a u tr e c é rém o n ie, p o u r voir le q u e l a ra iso n .' { C o u tu ra t p. 176.)
261 Cf. J. J. Becher’s C h a ra c te r p r o n o titia lin g u a ru m universali. In v e n tu m ste g a n o g ra p h ic u m quo
q u ilib e t su a m legendo vern a cu la m d iv e rsa s uno o m n e s lin g u a s u n iu s d e i in fo rm a tio n e , e x p lic a re
a c in telleg ere p o te s t. F ra n c o fu r ti 1661; and Athanasius Kircher’s P o ly g ra p h ia n o v a e t u n iver
sa lis e x c o m b in a to ria a r te d e te c ta . Q u a Q u iu s d e tia m L in g a r u m q u a n tu m u is im p e rita s trip lic i
m e th o d o . In I I I . S y n ta g m a ta d is trib u ta . Rome 1663; Kircher’s book is discussed in Leibnitz’s
early correspondence at Mainz.
262 Cf. C o u tu ra t pp. 277 ff., fragment ‘ L in g u a G en era lis \ written in February 1678.
263 Cf. Z u r a llg e m e in e n C h a ra c te r istik , in G e rh a rd t Vol. VII, p. 188.
264 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Thomasius, 26.9.1668: ‘ S i ita p e r g itu r h a b e b im u s p ro p e d ie m p h ilo so
p h ia m a d u su m g e n e ris h u m a n i r e fo r m a ta m . . .’ {A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, p. 10.)
265 Cf. Leibnitz’s letter to Christian Habbeus, January 1676: ‘ F eu M o n s . F o g el, M é d e c in à H am
bourg, q u i p a s s a it a vec ju s tic e p o u r h a b ile h o m m e , a la issé g r a n d n o m b re d e s M a n u s c r ip ts trè s
c u rie u x , s u r to u t p o u r ce q u i reg a rd e la m é d é c in e , la scien ce n a tu re lle e t le s m a th é m a tiq u e s : ces
M a n u s c rip ts v ien n e n t en p a r tie d e lu y , en p a r tie d e f e u M o n s . J u n g iu s, un d e s p lu s h a b iles h o m m e s
que l'A lle m a g n e a it ja m a is eu. I l s e r o it d o m m a g e q u e c es so r te s d e re c u e il fu s s e n t p e r d u e s ou
d issip ées: c 'e s t p o u rq u o y j e vous su p p lie d e vous in fo rm e r d e l'e s tâ t d e c es ch o ses e t d e tâ ch er
m ê m e s i vous p o u v e z d 'e n e m p e c h e r la d issip a tio n : m a is i l n e f a u t p o in t té m o ig n e r c o m b ien elles
so n t à e stim e r, d e p e u r d e les fa i r e en c h é rir.' {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, p. 443.)
266 Cf. Louis Davillé: L e sé jo u r d e L e ib n iz à P a ris, in A r c h iv f ü r G esch ich te, vol. for 1920-1923.
267 Cf. A c a d e m y lind series, vol. I, no. 132, pp. 277 ff. Descartes’s posthumously published
R e c h e rc h e d e la V é rité . . . is the work in question.
268 The correspondence with Baron Tschirnhaus, 1678-1679, contains the details concerning the
discovery of the infinitesimal calculus {G erh a rd t: M a th e m . vol. IV, pp. 429 ff.). In a letter
Leibnitz writes (p. 456) that he explained his new analytical method to Tschirnhaus in Paris,
but that he (Tschirnhaus) did not at that time pay much attention and hence later wasted a
lot of time working it out once again with a different notation. There is no doubt that Leibnitz
immediately saw the importance of his discovery (cf. his letter of March 1678), but failed to
arouse the attention of Tschirnhaus, who considered the introduction of new concepts and
what he calls ‘ m o n str a c h a ra c te ru m ' to be mere whims of his friend’s, designed merely to make
the whole operation more difficult.
269 Cf. Gerhardt’s introduction to the correspondence between Leibnitz and Tschirnhaus (in
G erh a rd t: M a th e m . vol. IV, pp. 417-424). In 1684 Tschirnhaus published a paper in the A c ta
E r u d ito ru m L ip s ie n siu m , where he claimed the invention, in effect, of the whole method of the
integral calculus. Only now did Leibnitz begin to collect his papers in order to prove what
were his own inventions; but the editor of the A c ta , Mencke, in order to prevent a quarrel
between the two men (for fear it would be fought out in his paper), suggested a compromise
(cf. letter to Leibnitz of 16.7.1684, ibid. pp. 424-425, and Leibnitz’s reply, pp. 425-426). It
was this altercation with Tschirnhaus that caused Leibnitz to make good his claim by pub
lishing a full account of the invention of the integral calculus, M e th o d u s d e M a x im is e t M in im is ,
in the A c ta of 1684.
270 Spinoza, a Republican, writes to his friend G. H. Schuller, 18.11.1675: ‘ With Lijbniz I am,
I think, acquainted through our correspondence; but why he, a Councillor at Frankfurt, has
travelled to France I don’t know. As far as I could judge him from his letters he seemed to
me a man with an open and free mind, well versed in every science. Nevertheless I think it
ill-advised to trust him with my writings so soon. First I would like to know what plans he
has in Paris, and further to wait for the opinion of our friend Tschirnhaus, after they have been
acquainted for some time and Tschirnhaus has got to know Lijbniz’s character.’ {B aruch de
S p in o z a : S ä m m tlic h e S c h r ifte n , ed. C. Gebhardt, vol. Ill, Leipzig 1914, no. 72, p. 275.)
271 Cf. de Burgh’s letter to Spinoza 11.9.1675. In his reply (early in 1676) Spinoza mentions the
Dane Niels Stensen. In his letter to the Duke Leibnitz stresses that he rejects the purely moral
interpretation of religion; but apart from this he speaks with much praise of Spinoza’s work.
And, thoughtfully providing against a future need, he seems to have made his extracts from
the original MS. of Spinoza’s letter at the time of his stay at the Hague. (Cf. L. Stein, L e ib n iz
u n d S p in o z a , p a s s im .)
272 Cf. E rm a h n u n g a n d ie T eu tsch en . . , in K lo p p vol. VI, pp. 188 ff.
273 Cf. A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, no. 35, p. 45.
274 Cf. A c a d e m y Vth series, vol. I, pp. 562-568. A note in the margin reads: ‘p lu tô t A c a d é m ie des
J e u x !'
275 Cf. Leibnitz’s correspondence with Landgrave Ernest in A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, pp. 243-
331.
276 Cf. Landgrave Ernest’s letter, 2.9.1683: * S i vous fa i te s s i g r a n d cas d e M o n s . A rn a u ld , la issez
d onc, j e vous p r ie , a p rè s D ie u lu y l'h o n n e u r d e vo tre s i g lo rie u se conversion, car j e crois q u e v ie il e t
in c o m m o d é d e s a n té e t tr è s o c c u p é e t f o r t p e r s é c u té q u 'il s o y t, q u 'il tâ c h e ro it n é a n m o in s à p re n d re
to u te s le s p e in e s d u m o n d e à vous servir en u n e te lle bo n n e œ u v r e .. . . E t p o u rq u o y , sa n s a tte n d re ,
n e vous fa i te s vous e n tr e te m p s a u ta n t C a tholique c o m m e m o y . . . .' {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol.
Ill, p. 327.)
277 A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, nos. 162 and 163.
278 Ib id ., no. 216.
279 A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, p. 530.
280 Cf. G e d a n c k e n z u r L a n d w irtsc h a ft (‘ Thoughts on Agriculture ’) : ‘ The Spanish potato ought
to be planted, and the sumach tree___ And good strong beer ought to be introduced into the
country. . . .’ {A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. II, no. 72.)
281 Setting out on his great journey in search of historical documents, Leibnitz writes to Baron
Julius Heinrich Blum (in January 1688): ‘ D id ic i in m a th e m a tic is ingenio, in n a tu ra e x p e ri
m e n tis, in h isto ria te s tim o n iis n ite n d u m e sse .' {K lo p p vol. V, pp. 367-371.) This journey marks
the beginning of modern historical research based on original sources.
282 A number of fragments among his posthumously published papers show Leibnitz’s interest
in, and the width of his knowledge of, mining and mineralogy. His plan for a new type of
history of the earth, P ro to g a e a , siv e d e p r im a f a c i e te llu ris a u d a n tiq u issim a e h isto ria e vestig iis
in ip sis n a tu ra e m o n u m e n tie d isse rta tio , was published partly in the A c ta E r u d ito ru m L ip s ie n -
siu m ; the first complete edition was published by C. L. Scheidt, in D u te n s vol. II, part ii,
pp. 181 ff.
283 Cf. D e S y n th e s i e t A n a ly s i un iversa li, in G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 296. Cf. also a letter to F. Schrader,
April [?] 1681 : ‘ N o u s co n n a isso n s à p r é s e n t d e rem a rq u a b les p h é n o m è n e s n a tu r e ls e n s i g r a n d
n o m b re q u 'il e s t te m p s en fin , i l m e s e m b le , d e se p r é p a r e r à o rd o n n e r leu r m a sse e t à tire r d e s
co n clu sio n s. C a r, c o m m e a u tr e fo is d e la d is e tte , n o u s so u ffro n s m a in te n a n t d e la c o n fu sio n .
J 'e n a i so u v e n t a v e rti ce rta in s a m is tr è s sa v a n ts d e la S o c ié té R o y a le [of London], q u i o n t é té
a u ssi d e c e t avis. . . .’ (Quoted from: L e ib n iz , Œ u v re s C h o isie s , ed. L. Prenant, Paris 1946,
pp. 70-71. For the Latin text, c î. A c a d e m y lind series, vol. I, no. 231, p. 518.)
284 Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. VII, pp. 511-527.
285 Letter to R é m o n d , 10.1.1714, in G e rh a rd t vol. Ill, pp. 607 ff.
286 Letter to Daniel Huet [n. d.], ibid. pp. 14-17.
287 Cf. C o u tu ra t p. 524, and the same author’s L o g iq u e d e L e ib n iz d 'a p r è s d e s d o c u m e n ts in é d its
Paris 1901, p. 159. The essay, written between 1690 and 1696, was published for the first time by
D. Mahnke: ‘ L e ib n iz a ls G eg n er d e r G e le h r te n e in s e itig k e it' { W isse n s c h a ftlic h e B e ila g e z u m
J a h re s b e ric h t d e s k ö n ig lic h e n G y m n a siu m s ), Stade 1912.
288 Cf. above, note 87.
289 Cf. letter to Edmond Mariotte, July 1676, in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 130, pp. 269 ff.
290 Cf. D u te n s vol. VI, 1st part, pp. 64 ff. Cf. also T h e o d ic y § 6: ‘ C e p e n d a n t i l f a u t a v o u e r a vec
l'in c o m p a ra b le G ro tiu s, q u 'il y a q u elq u e fo is d e l'o r c a ch é so u s le s o rd u res d u L a tin b a rb a re des
M o in e s ; C e q u i m 'a f a i t so u h a ite r p lu s d 'u n e f o i s , q u 'u n h a b ile h o m m e , q u e sa fo n c tio n e û t o b lig é
d 'a p p re n d re le la n g u a g e d e l'E c o le , e û t vo u lu e n tire r ce q u 'il y a d e m e ille u r, e t q u 'u n a u tr e P e ta v e
o u T h o m a ssin e u sse n t f a i t à l'é g a r d d e s S c h o la stiq u e s ce q u e c es d e u x sa v o n s h o m m e s o n t f a i t
à l'é g a r d d e s P è re s.' {E rd m a n n p. 481.)
Cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to Rémond de Montmort, 26.8.1714; ' J 'a i d it so u v e n t, aurum latere
in stercore illo scholastico barbariei; e t j e so u h a ite ro is q u 'o n p û t tro u v e r q u elq u e h a b ile h o m m e
versé d a n s c e tte P h ilo so p h ie H ib e rn o ise e t E sp a g n o le , q u i e û t d e l'in c lin a tio n e t d e la c a p a c ité
p o u r e n tire r le b o n . J e su is sû r q u 'il tro u v e ro it sa p e in e p a y é e p a r p lu s ie u r s b e lle s e t im p o r ta n te s
v é rité s.' {E rd m a n n p. 704.)
291 Cf. D isc o u rs d e m é ta p h y siq u e § 19: ‘ C o m m e j e n 'a im e p a s d e ju g e r d e s g e n s e n m a u v a ise p a r t,
j e n 'a c c u s e p a s n o s n o u v e a u x p h ilo so p h e s, q u i p r é te n d e n t d e b a n n ir le s ca u ses fin a le s d e la p h y siq u e ,
m a is j e su is n é a n tm o in s o b lig é d 'a v o u e r q u e le s su ite s d e ce s e n tim e n t m e p a r o is s e n t d a n g ereu ses
. . . ’ {G ro te fe n d p. 173.) Cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to Landgrave Ernest: *M o n p rin c ip e e s t de
regarder to u jo u rs les g e n s d e leur b o n c o sté , sa n s m 'a r r ê te r à ce q u e le s critiq u es y v e u le n t tro u ver
à re d ire , lorsque cela n e p e u t n u ire à p e r s o n n e .' {von R o m m e l vol. I, p. 133.)
292 Cf. D isc o u rs § 13. {G ro te fe n d pp. 164 fî.)
293 This draft for the S c ie n tia G eneralis, written 1679-1680, will be found in G e rh a rd t vol. VII,
pp. 130 ff.
294 Cf. Leibnitz to Landgrave Ernest: 'J e s u is bien a ise d e c e tte d iffé re n c e d e s g é n ie s e t d e s d e sse in s,
q u i f a i t q u e rien n 'e s t négligé, e t q u e l'h o n n e u r d e D ie u e t le b ie n d e s h o m m e s e s t a v a n c é d e p lu s ie u rs
fa ç o n s .' {von R o m m e l vol. II, p. 124.) In a letter to Rémond, 10.1.1714, Leibnitz writes: 'J 'a i
tr o u v é q u e la p lû p a r t d e s S e c te s o n t ra iso n d a n s u n e b o n n e p a r tie d e ce q u 'e lle s a d v a n c e n t, m a is
non p a s ta n t en ce q u 'e lle s n i e n t . . . . J e m e fl a tt e d 'a v o ir p é n é tr é l'h a rm o n ie d e s d iffé r e n s reignes.
. . . I l n 'e s ta it p a s a isé d e d éc o u v rir ce m y stè r e , p a r c e q u 'il y a p e u d e g e n s q u i s e d o n n e n t la
p e in e d e jo in d r e c es d e u x so r te s d 'é tu d e s .' {G erh a rd t vol. III, p. 607.)
CHAPTER IV
295 Cf. letter to Amauld, 30.4.1687: ‘ P o u r tra n c h e r c o u rt j e tie n s p o u r un a x io m e c e tte p r o p o s itio n

id en tiq u e q u i n 'e s t diversifiée q u e p a r l'a c c e n t, sça vo ir q u e ce q u i n 'e s t p a s v é rita b le m e n t un estre,
n 'e s t p a s non p lu s v é rita b le m e n t un estre. O n a to u jo u rs crû q u e l'u n e t l'e s tr e so n t d e s ch o ses
réciproques. A u tr e ch o se e s t l'e s tr e , a u tr e ch o se e s t d e s e stre s; m a is le p lu r ie l su p p o se le sin g u lier,
e t là o ù i l n 'y a p a s un e stre , i l y a u ra e n c o r m o in s p lu s ie u rs e stres. Q u e p e u t o n d ire d e p lu s
c la ir ? ' {G ro te fe n d pp. 92-93.)
296 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 30: ‘ C 'e s t a u ssi p a r la connaissance d e s vérités n écessa ires e t p a r leurs a b stra c
tio n s, q u e no u s so m m e s élév és a u x actes réflexifs, q u i no u s f o n t p e n se r à ce q u i s'a p p e lle Moi,
e t à co n sid érer q u e c eci o u ce la e s t en nous, e t c 'e s t ainsi, q u 'en p e n sa n t à nous, no u s p e n so n s à
V E stre , à la su b sta n ce, a u sim p le o u a u co m p o sé , à l'im m a te r ie l e t à D ieu m ê m e , e n co ncevant
q u e ce q u i e s t b o rn é e n n o u s e s t e n lu i sa n s bornes. E t c es a c te s r é fle x ifs fo u r n is s e n t les o b jets
p rin c ip a u x d e n o s r a i s o n n e m e n s {E rd m a n n p. 707.) (‘ Further, it is by the knowledge of neces
sary truths and by their abstractions that we are raised to refle c tiv e a cts, which make us think
of what is called the S e lf, and which make us consider that this or that is within us. And it is
thus that in thinking of ourselves we think of Being, of substance, of the simple and the com
pound, of the immaterial and of God Himself, conceiving that whatever is limited in us in Him
is limitless. And these reflective acts provide the chief objects of our reasonings.’ {E v e ry m a n 's
ed. p. 8.)
297 Cf. letter to Amauld, September 1687 {G ro te fe n d pp. 108 ff.); cf. also D isco u rs § 10: *C ep en
d a n t c o m m e un g é o m è tr e n 'a p a s beso in d e s'e m b a rr a sse r l'e s p r it d u fa m e u x la b y rin th e d e la c o m
p o s itio n d u c o n tin u , e t q u 'a u c u n p h ilo so p h e m o r a l e t e n c o r m o in s un ju r isc o n s u lte ou p o litiq u e
n 'a p o in t beso in d e se m e ttr e en p e in e d e s g ra n d e s d iffic u lté s q u i se tro u v e n t d a n s la co nciliation
du libre a rb itre e t d e la p ro v id e n c e d e D ie u ; p u isq u e le g é o m è tr e p e u t ach ever to u te s se s d é m o n
stra tio n s, e t le p o litiq u e p e u t te rm in e r to u te s se s d élib éra tio n s sa n s e n tre r d a n s c es discussions,
q u i n e la isse n t p a s d 'e s tr e nécessa ires e t im p o rta n te s da n s la p h ilo so p h ie e t d a n s la théologie:
d e m ê m e un p h y sic ie n p e u t ren d re raison d e s e x p é rie n c e s se se r v a n t ta n to s t d e s e x p é rie n c e s
p lu s sim p le s déjà fa ite s , ta n to s t d e s d é m o n str a tio n s g é o m é triq u e s e t m éch a n iq u es, sa n s a vo ir besoin
d e s co n sid éra tio n s g é n é ra le s q u i so n t u n e a u tr e sp h è re .' {Ibid. pp. 162-163.)
298 Autobiographical fragments will be found in N o u v e lle s L e ttr e s pp. 379-388; and especially in
the correspondence with Rémond, in G erh a rd t vol. Ill, pp. 605 ff.
299 Cf. D isc o u rs §§ 8 and 13 {G ro te fe n d pp. 160 and 164 ff.); G erh a rd t vol. IV, pp. 432-436; letters
to Landgrave Ernest 12.4.1686 {G ro te fe n d pp. 7-12), and Arnauld, 14.7.1686 {ibid. pp. 39-51.)
300 D isc o u rs § 8: ‘7/ e s t a ss e z difficile d e d istin g u er les a c tio n s d e D ie u d e celles d e s c ré a tu re s; car
il y en a q u i c ro y e n t q u e D ie u f a i t to u t, d 'a u tr e s s'im a g in e n t q u 'il n e f a i t que co n server la fo r c e
q u 'il a d o n n ée a u x c ré a tu re s: la s u ite fe r a voir co m b ie n l'u n ou l'a u tr e se p e u t dire. O r p u isq u e
les a c tio n s e t p a ss io n s a p p a rtie n n e n t p ro p r e m e n t a u x su b sta n c e s individuelles (actiones sunt
suppositorum), i l se r a it n écessaire d 'e x p liq u e r ce q u e c 'e s t q u 'u n e te lle su b sta n ce. I l e s t bien
vray, q u e lorsque p lu s ie u rs p r é d ic a ts s'a ttr ib u e n t à un m ê m e su je t, e t q u e c e su je t n e s'a ttr ib u e
p a s à au cu n a u tre, on l'a p p e lle su b sta n c e individuelle ; m a is ce la n 'e s t p a s a ssez, e t une telle
e x p lic a tio n n 'e s t q u e n o m in a le. I l f a u t d o n c co n sid érer ce q u e c 'e s t q u e d 'e s tr e a ttrib u é véritable
m e n t à un c e rta in su je t. O r i l e s t c o n sta n t q u e to u te p ré d ic a tio n vérita b le a quelque fo n d e m e n t
d a n s la n a tu re d e s choses, e t lo rs q u 'u n e p ro p o sitio n n 'e s t p a s identique, c 'e s t à dire lorsque le
p ré d ic a t n 'e s t p a s co m p ris e x p re s sé m e n t d a n s le su je t, il f a u t q u 'il y so it c o m p ris virtuellement,
e t c 'e s t q u e les p h ilo so p h e s a p p e lle n t in-esse, e n d isa n t q u e le p ré d ic a t est dans le su je t. A in s i
i l f a u t q u e le te r m e d u s u je t e n fe rm e to u jo u rs c elu i d u p ré d ic a t, en so rte q u e c e lu y q u i en te n d ro it
p a r fa ite m e n t la n o tio n d u su je t, ju g e r o it a u ssi le p ré d ic a t q u i lu y a p p a rtie n t.' {G ro te fe n d p. 160.)
301 Cf. letter to Arnauld, 30.4.1687, in G ro te fe n d p. 97.
302 Cf. letter to Arnauld, June 1686: “ D 'a ille u rs s i da n s la vie d e quelque p erso n n e . . . quelque chose
a llo it a u tr e m e n t q u 'e lle n e va, rien n e n o u s e m p ê c h e ro it d e d ire q u e ce se ro it une a u tre p e rso n n e . . .
que D ie u a u ro it choisi. C e se r o it d o n c vé rita b le m e n t un a u tre individu, il f a u t a u ssi q u 'il y a it une
raison a priori (in d ép en d a n te d e m o n exp é rie n c e ) q u i fa s s e q u 'o n d it v érita b lem en t que c 'e s t m o y
q u i a y e sté à P a ris e t q u e c 'e s t en co r m o y , e t non un a u tre, q u i su is m a in te n a n t en A lle m a g n e , et
p a r con séq u en t i l f a u t q u e la n o tio n d e m o y lie ou co m p ren n e les d iffé ro n s é ta ts .' {G ro tefen d
p. 45.) The identity of the Self, then, can never be an inward live experience, but remains a
rational postulate which is deductively established, ‘ se m p e r e n im n o tio p ra e d ic a ti in e st su b iecto
in p ro p o sitio n e vera .' {Ib id p. 44.)
303 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 30 {E rd m a n n p. 707, E v e ry m a n 's ed. p. 8.); also letter to Amauld, June 1686:
‘ C e n 'e s t p a s a ss e z p o u r e n ten d re ce q u e c 'e s t q u e moy, q u e j e m e s e n te une su b sta n c e q u i p en se,
il fa u d r o it concevoir d is tin c te m e n t ce q u i m e d iscerne d e to u s les a u tre s esp rits p o ssib le s; m a is
j e n 'e n a y q u 'u n e e x p e rie n c e co n fu se. C ela f a i t q u e q u o y q u 'il so it a isé d e ju g e r , q u e le n o m b re
d e s p ie d s d u d ia m è tr e n 'e s t p a s e n fe r m é d a n s la n o tio n d e la sp h ère e n g én éra l, i l n 'e s t p a s si
a isé d e ju g e r c e rta in e m e n t {q uoyqu'on p u is se le ju g e r a ss e z p ro b a b le m e n t), s i le vo ya g e que j 'a y
d essein d e fa ir e e s t é n fe r m é d a n s m a n o tio n , a u tr e m e n t il se r o it a ussi a isé d 'e s tr e p ro p h è te que
d 'e s tr e g é o m è tr e .' {G ro te fe n d pp. 44-45.)
304 Cf. ibid. p. 49: ‘ . . . A in s i chaque su b sta n c e individuelle o u e stre c o m p le t e s t c o m m e un m o n d e
à p a r t, in d ép en d a n t d e to u t a u tr e ch o se q u e d e D ie u .'
305 Cf. D. Mahnke: L e ib n iz a ls G egner d e r G e le h rte n e in s e itig k e it (Stade 1912), where a detailed
account of Leibnitz’s working day will be found.
306 The term is used by Goethe in one of the F a u stp a r a lip o m e n a : 4 F a u st. G e g e n fra g e wo d e r
sc h a ffe n d e S p ie g e l s e y ' (Weimar ed. 1st series [Works], vol. XIV, p. 291), but derives from
Leibnitz, who writes in the P rin c ip e s d e la N a tu r e e t d e la G râ ce, fo n d é s e n R a iso n : 4. . . C h a q u e
M o n a d e e s t un m iro ir v iva n t, o u d o u é d 'a c tio n in te rn e , r e p r é s e n ta tif d e l'U n iv e r s . . . . ’ ( E rd m a n n
p. 714.) Goethe probably read Leibnitz’s treatise in J. C. Gottsched’s translation, H e rrn
G o ttfr ie d W ilh e lm s F reyh errn von L e ib n itz T h eo d icée j D a s is t j V ersuch von d e r G ü te G o tte s,
F re y h e it d e s M e n s c h e n , u n d vom U rsprünge d e s B ö se n j b e y d ie se r vie rte n A u s g a b e d u rch g eh en d s
verb essert / a u ch m it verschiedenen Z u s ä tz e n u n d A n m e r c k u n g e n v e rm e h rt . . . Hanover and
Leipzig 1744, which includes the P rin c ip e s as an addition (pp. 768 ff) to the previous edition.
307 Cf. S p e c im e n d y n a m ic u m {P ars la, 1695), in G e rh a rd t: M a th e m . Vlth vol. pp. 235 ff.
308 Cf. S e c u r ita s P u b lic a . . . Part II, § 17, written 21.11.1670, in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp.
179 ff.
309 Cf. the sentence, 4The human mind cannot rest; to be motionless, that is without movement
towards further acceptance, is torment to the mind ’, with the M o n a d o lo g y § 15: 4L 'a c tio n du
p rin c ip e in tern e, q u i f a i t le c h a n g e m e n t o u le p a ss a g e d 'u n e p e rc e p tio n à une a u tr e , p e u t ê tre
a p p ellé Appétition; il e s t vrai q u e l'a p p é tit n e sa u ra it to u jo u rs p a r v e n ir e n tiè r e m e n t à to u te la
p e rc e p tio n , où il ten d , m a is il e n o b tie n t to u jo u rs quelque chose, e t p a r v ie n t à d e s p e rc e p tio n s
n o u velles.' {.E rd m a n n p. 706.) (‘ The action of the internal principle which causes the change or
passage from one perception to another may be called a p p e titio n ; it is true that the appetite
cannot always attain completely the whole of the perception at which it aims, but it always
attains something of it and arrives at new perceptions.’ E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 4.)
310 In his H y p o th e s is p h y s ic a e n o va e of March 1671 Leibnitz already recognized the need of sub
stituting for the one-sided 4kinetics ’ of Hobbes and Descartes a science to which he gave the
Aristotelean name of 4dynamics ’. He thus came to see that an adequate physical description
of bodies had to include a mathematically accountable magnitude which could not be reduced
any further either to extension or to motion, but to which he gave such names as vis a c tiv a ,
fo r c e vive, p u is sa n c e d 'a g ir or just p u is sa n c e or p o te n tia , all of which are related to the Aris-
totelean Sôvafxiç and the scholastic p o te n tia . The transition between metaphysical enquiry and
this doctrine is established in Leibnitz’s polemic against Descartes in the D isc o u rs of 1686,
where he writes (§ 17) of the ‘ error’ of the Cartesians: - 4. . . M o n s . d e s C a rte s n 'e s t to m b é
ic y d a n s l'e rre u r q u e p a r ce q u 'il s e f i o i t tr o p à se s p e n sé e s , lo rs m ê m e s q u 'e lle s n 'e s to ie n t p a s
e n c o r a ss e z m e u re s. M a i s j e m 'é to n n e q u e d e p u is se s s e c ta te u rs n e se so n t p a s a p p e rç u s d e c e tte
fa u t e : e t j ' a y p e u r q u 'ils n e c o m m e n c e n t p e u à p e u d 'im ite r q u elq u es p é rip a té tic ie n s, d o n t ils se
m o c q u e n t, e t q u 'ils n e s 'a c c o u s tu m e n t c o m m e e u x d e c o n su lte r p lu s to s t le s livres d e leu r m a istre
q u e d e la ra iso n e t la n a tu r e .' {G ro te fe n d p. 172.) Cf. also below, Part II, Chapter II, section 1.
311 Cf. the introduction to 4B e d e n c k e n , w e ic h e rg e sta lt ein e S o c ie tä t in D e u ts c h la n d a u ffzu ric h te n
s e i ’, in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, p. 534.
312 Cf. 4 G rundriss e in e s B e d e n c k e n s z u r A u ffr ic h tu n g von e in e r S o c ie tä t . . .’ § 21; ib id ., p. 535.
313 O p . c it., § 22, p. 536.
314 Cf. D u te n s vol. VI, part i, p. 263.
315 Cf. Lessing’s fragment 4 D e s A n d re a s W isso w a tiu s E in w ü r fe w ider d ie D r e y e in ig k e it ’ of 1773,
where an attempt is made to answer the question (much discussed by the theologians of the
German Enlightenment) whether 4Leibnitz was a good or a bad Christian’: 4Fontenelle
was the first man to tell the world that Leibnitz’s Christianity was not up to much.. . . True,
Leibnitz could have pleased his pastors by attending their sermons. But assuming he had done
all they expected of him, what then? Would people now consider him as a pious Christian?
I doubt it very much.’ {S ä m tlic h e S c h r ifte n , ed. Lachmann, Leipzig 1897, vol. XII, pp. 71-99.)
316 Cf. N o u v e a u x E ssa is Book II, Chapter XXI, 4Of Power and Freedom *, § 47: 4E t p o u r cela
il e s t bon d e s'a c c o u stu m e r à se recu eillir d e te m p s e n te m p s, e t à s 'é le v e r a u d e ssu s d u tu m u lte ,
p r é s e n t d e s im p ressio n s, e t à so r tir p o u r a in si d ire d e la p la c e o ù l'o n e st, e t à se dire, “ D ie c u r
h ic ? R e sp ic e f i n e m ? " 44 O ù en so m m e s n o u s ? V enons au f a i t ? " L e s h o m m e s a u ro ie n t bien
besoin d e q u e lq u 'u n .' {E rd m a n n p. 262, L a n g le y pp. 202-204); and Leibnitz’s first letter to
Amauld, of November 1671, especially the passage, 4E g o in te r to t d istra c tio n e s v ix a lte r i m e
a rg u m e n to v e h e m e n tiu s in cu b u isse a rb itro r, q u a n tu lo cu n q u e tr a c tu h u iu s vita e m e a e , q u a m q u o d
m e se c u ru m re d d e re t d e fu tu r a , e t h a n c u n a m m ih i m u lto m a x im a m fu is s e fa t e o r e tia m p h ilo
so p h a n d i c a u sa m .' {A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 87, p. 172.)
208 L E IB N IT Z A N D T H E SE V E N T E E N T H -C E N T U R Y R E V O L U T IO N
317 Cf. Wilhelm Dilthey, L e ib n iz p. 45: ‘ Such men are deeply aware of their c a ll in life—and in
this way they fulfil the ideal of the Reformation; their awareness, however, has at the same time
something in common with the self-reflective attitude of men belonging to modem culture.
They accomplish well their tasks and advance quickly on their way, their direction determined
b y th e th in g s th em selves —and yet they are also familiar with the ways of the world, true vir
tuosi in the art of human intercourse. And their achievements in music, literature and philo
sophy express the p e rs o n a l nature of their consciousness of the world and of life. The men
of the Reformation were representative of the common consciousness of their age; the men of
the new age, on the other hand, enter the scene as personalities, as men who have reached
their attitude to the world without abdicating from their essential status as free personalities.’
318 Cf. N o u v e a u x E s s a is , loc. cit.
319 The title itself was devised by a later editor, Heinrich Köhler (1685-1737), who translated the
French MS. into a pompous baroque German and published it under the title ‘ D e s H rn . G o tt
f r i e d W ilh e lm von L e ib n ü tz . . . L e h r S ä tz e ü b er d ie Monadologie ingleichen von G O T T u n d
se in e r E x is te n tz , seinen E ig e n sc h a ffte n u n d von d e r S e e le d e s M e n s c h e n e tc ., w ie auch D essen
le tz te V e rth e y d ig u n g sein es S y s te m a tis H a rm o n ia e p re s ta b ilita e w id er d ie E in w ü rffe d e s H rn .
B a y le , a u s d e m F r a n z ö s is c h e n ü b e rs e tzt . . .’ Frankfurt and Leipzig 1720, while Leibnitz him
self speaks only of a ‘ h a rm o n ia u n iversa lis *. In Leibnitz’s formulation we are once more
reminded of the fundamental inspiration that lies behind his last attempt at a system; Leibnitz
was not inspired by an idea of *monadic * self-containedness (which issues from Kohler’s
formulation of the title: * G. W. Leibnitz’s doctrines concerning the Monadology, as well as
on God, His Existence and His Properties, on the soul of Man etc., together with his last defence
of his System of Pre-established Harmony against M. Bayle’s objections . . .’), but by an idea
of the participation of all individual men in a universal community, in a ‘ city of God ’ such
as that which emerges at the end of the M o n a d o lo g y .
320 What Leibnitz meant by his often misinterpreted term ‘ windowless * is most clearly shown
in § 26 of the D isco u rs, where he uses it for the first time: *. . . N a tu r e lle m e n t rien n e no u s
e n tr e d a n s l'e s p r it p a r d eh o rs , e t c 'e s t u n e m a u v a ise h a b itu d e q u e n o u s a vo n s d e p e n se r c o m m e si
n o stre â m e re c e v o it qu elques e sp èces m e ssa g è re s e t c o m m e s i e lle a v o it d e s p o r te s e t d e s fe n e s tr e s .’
(G ro te fe n d p. 180.) This amounts to a rejection of the scholastic theory of ‘ sp ecies i.e. of
the theory that little pictures of specific properties are as it were peeled off from individual
substances and proceed thence as messengers into other substances. This crude ‘ material ’
theory of sensory perception Leibnitz wishes to replace by a more subtle and ‘ ideal ’ episte
mology, in which a rightful place is to be given to the autonomous activity of the human
mind.
321 Cf. also D isc o u rs § 32: ‘ E t c 'e s t p o u r cela q u 'u n e p e rs o n n e d o n t l'e s p r it e s to it f o r t re le v é e t d o n t
la s a in te té e s t révérée [i.e. St. Teresa], a v o it c o u stu m e d e d ire , q u e l'â m e d o it so u v e n t p e n se r
c o m m e s 'i l n 'y a v o it q u e D ie u e t e lle a u m o n d e .' (Cf. St. Augustine, in the S o lilo q u ia I. 2, 7 :
‘ God and the soul I wish to know. And what else? Nothing else.’)
322 In ‘ R o ra riu s ’, Bayle’s article in the E n c y c lo p é d ie in which Leibnitz’s doctrine of pre-established
harmony is discussed, an account is given of the doctrine of Pope Clement VII’s Nuntio
Fr. Hieronymus Rorarius, who in 1547 wrote a book in which he discussed the mind of animals
and concluded that they are more reasonable than men; from this argument Bayle proceeded
to a discussion of Leibnitz’s remarks on Descartes’s mechanistic view of animals.
323 For an account of Leibnitz’s concept of *the unconscious ’, cf. D. Brinkmann: P ro b le m e des
U nbew ussten. Zürich 1942.
324 Cf. letter to Arnauld, September 1687, in G ro te fe n d p. 119.
325 Cf. the fragments to the D e m o n stra tio n u m C a th o lic a ru m C o n sp ectu s, and note 169 above.
326 S y s tè m e n o u vea u d e la n a tu r e e t d e la c o m m u n ic a tio n d e s su b sta n c e s, a u ssi bien q u e d e l'u n io n
q u 'il y a e n tr e l'â m e e t le c o rp s , 1695. {E rd m a n n pp. 124-128.)
327 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y §§ 81-87 and the end; also T h e o d ic y §§ 91 and 397, and Foucher de Careü’s
L e ttr e s , p a ss im .
328 Cf. letter to Amauld, September 1687, in G ro te fe n d pp. 108 ff.
329 Cf. S y s tè m e n o u vea u . . . in E rd m a n n p. 124.
330 Cf. V orschläge f ü r ein e T e u tsch lieb en d e G e n o sse n sc h a fft in K lo p p vol. VI, pp. 214 ff.
331 Cf. V orschläge f ü r ein e T e u tsch lieb en d e G en o ssen sch a fft, Chapter II/2: ‘ For once our eyes are
as it were armed by means of telescopes and microscopes, we become capable of a remarkable
insight into the innermost core of Nature. Through telescopes we see all that is infinitely far
removed from us, and thus we get the right idea of the wonderful edifice of the world and of
God’s great works [haben d a d u rch d ie re c h te ideam von d e m w u n d erb a ren w eltg e b ä u u n d g ro ssen
w e rc k e n G o tte s b e k o m m e n ]; of all these the Ancients had but very poor notions which did
little honour to the wisdom of the Creator.
‘ And through microscopes we see those things several millions of which come to one grain of
sand, whence it undoubtedly follows that if we pursued the matter thoroughly we could pene
trate very far into the innermost structure [gew ebe] of the bodies with which we are concerned,
and indeed a few people have thrown much light on these matters already; it is, however, to
be regretted that there are not many of them.’ {K lo p p vol. VI, pp. 214-215.)
Man, in Leibnitz’s view, stands between 4the wonderful edifice of the world ’ and *the inner
most structure of bodies ’, that is between two infinities which he can contemplate without
fear and trembling; these infinities are not the ‘ abysses’ that Pascal speaks of (cf. above,
note 246), but 4p h e n o m e n a b e n e fu n d a ta '.
332 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 49 ; cf. D isc o u rs § 15: 1 T o u te a c tio n d 'u n e su b s ta n c e q u i a d e p e r fe c tio n im p o rte
q u elq u e v o lu p té , e t to u te p a s s io n q u elq u e d o u leu r, e t vice versa . . .’ ( G ro te fe n d p. 169.)
333 Cf. T h e o d ic y § 32.
334 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 60, where the monad is defined as something 4d o n t la n a tu r e é ta n t rep résen
ta tiv e * (‘ the nature of which is to represent ’). {E rd m a n n p. 709.)
335 Cf. Edmund Husserl, L o g is c h e U n tersu ch u n g en . 3rd ed., Halle an der Saale 1922, part I, § 61.
336 While the affinities of thought between Nicholas of Cusa and Leibnitz have frequently been
mentioned, no satisfactory full account of the relation has yet been written; the following work,
however, goes some way towards such an account: F. Zimmermann, 4 D e r K a r d in a l N ik o la u s
von K u e s a ls V o rg ä n g er L e ib n itz e n s *, in : S itz u n g s b e r ic h t d e r K a y se rlic h e n -K ö n ig lic h e n A c a
d e m ie d e r W isse n sc h a fte n z u W ie n , vol. VIII, 1852. Cf. also H. Heimsoeth: D ie se c h s g ro sse n
T h e m e n d e r a b en d lä n d isch en M e ta p h y s ik . Berlin 1934.
337 Cf. U n vo rg reifflich e G e d a n c k e n . . . : 4As for the use of language, it is to be especially noted
that words are the sig n s not only of thoughts, but also of things, and that we require signs
not merely in order to describe our views to other men, but also to help our own thoughts. . . .*
{G uhrauer vol. I, p. 449 ff.)
CHAPTER V
338 All extant fragments will be found in A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 459 ff., E le m e n ta Iu r is
N a tu r a lis , 1670-1671. The whole work was planned in four parts { E le m e n ta lu r is N a tu r a lis ,
upon which were to be based E le m e n ta iu r is c ivilis c o m m u n i h o d iern i, then the N u c le u s L e g u m
R o m a n o r u m , and finally the famous C o rp u s lu r is R o m a n i re c o n c in n a tu m ); Leibnitz worked
chiefly on the first two parts, while the other two werewritten mainly byHermann Lasser.
339 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 259 ff.
340 Cf. A c a d e m y Vlth series, vol. I, pp. 494 ff,D e m o n stra tio n u m c a th o lic a ru m co n sp e c tu s.
341 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 131 ff.
342 Ib id . pp. 515, W a g s c h a l g e g e n w ä rtig e r C o n iu n ctu ren .
343 Ib id . p. 136, S e c u rita s p u b lic a § 20.
344 Ib id . p. 137, § 24.
345 Ib id . p. 145, § 37.
346 Ib id . p. 165, § 86.
347 Ib id . p. 166, § 87.
348 S p e c im e n D e m o n stra tio n u m p o litic a r u m p r o eleg en d o R e g e P o lo n o ru m n o v o sc rib e n d i g e n e re
e x a c tu m . Spring 1669 {ibid. pp. 1 ff.).
349 Cf. letter to Amauld [n. d.], in G e rh a rd t vol. I, p. 73.
350 Cf. letter to Amauld, 28.11.1686: <J e tie n s d o n c q u 'u n q u a rrea u d e m a rb re n 'e s t p a s u n e se u le
su b sta n c e a c co m p lie , n o n p lu s q u e le se r o it l'e a u d 'u n e sta n g a vec to u t le s p o is so n s y co m p ris,
q u a n d m ê m e s to u te l'e a u a v e c to u s c es p o is s o n s s e tro u v e ro it g la c é e ; o u b ie n un tro p e a u d e
m o u to n s, q u a n d m ê m e s c es m o u to n s se rro ie n t te lle m e n t liés q u 'ils n e p û s s e n t m a rc h e r q u e d 'u n
p a s é g a l e t q u e l'u n n e p û t e stre to u ch é, sa n s q u e to u s les a u tr e s cria ssen t. I l y a a u ta n t d e d if
fé r e n c e e n tr e u n e su b sta n c e e t e n tr e un te l e stre q u 'il y en a e n tr e un H o m m e e t u n e c o m m u n a u té ,
c o m m e p e u p le , a rm ée, s o c ié té o u collège , q u i so n t d e s e stre s m o ra u x , où i l y a quelque chose
d 'im a g in a ire e t d e d ép en d a n t d e la fic tio n d e n o stre e s p r it.' (G erh a rd t vol. II, p. 76.)
351 Quoted from F. X. Kiefl: K a th o lisc h e W e lta n sc h a u u n g u n d m o d e rn e s D e n k e n . Regensburg
1922, Chapter II, ‘ L e ib n iz u n d d e r d e u tsc h e Id e a lis m u s '
352 Exhortations to undertake a new crusade became a familiar feature of all the poetry and prose
addressed to the King. Thus Malherbe’s ode to the King and Boileau’s triumphal song on the
war in Holland, Colbert’s memoranda on sea-power, as well as Leibnitz’s own poetic presen
tation—in 97 hexameters—of the Egyptian plan (addressed to Lothar Friedrich von Metter
nich, who was from 1670 the ‘ C o a d ju to r ' at Mainz)—all these prepare the ground for and
incite to a war with ‘ the Infidel For a full account of Leibnitz’s Egyptian project, cf. P.
Ritter, L e ib n iz e n s ä g y p tisc h e r P la n . Publication of the L e ib n iza rc h iv . Darmstadt 1930.
353 Letter to Duke John Frederick, October 1671, in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, p. 164.
354 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, p. 217 ff.
355 Cf. A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. I, p. 246.
356 Cf. K lo p p vol. II, pp. 98 ff.
357 Cf. A c a d e m y Ist series, vol. I, no. 172, p. 252 (1.2.1672): ' E x p o s itu m e s t nuper, e sse c e rtu m
q u o d d a m E x p e d itio n is g e n u s, q u o d a R e g e C h ristia n issim o m e d io c ri viriu m p a r te in fra a n n i
sp a tiu m confici p o s s it, q u o d p ra e s e n tib u s co n siliis a p p a ra tib u sq u e m ire c o n se n ta n e u m sit, u t
videri p o s s it d iu p r a e m e d ita tu m . . . .'
358 Cf. A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, p. 242.
359 Ib id . p. 246.
360 Ib id . p. 252.
361 Ib id . pp. 267-382. The Iu s ta D isse rta tio was written for the perusal of the King, while the
extract and précis of it, entitled C o n siliu m A e g y p tia c u m , was meant for Boineburg; both
writings, however, failed to reach their destinations, for in December 1672 there came the
news of Boineburg’s death. They remained unpublished until 1864, when Onno Klopp un
earthed them at Hanover.
362 Leibnitz was anxious to keep the whole Egyptian plan a close secret, and never directly men
tioned it to any of his correspondents. In his letter to the Duke in April 1675 {A c a d e m y 1st
series, vol. I, no. 331, pp. 486-497) he made a number of mysterious allusions, which the Duke
did not understand (j J e n 'a y ja m a is rien sc e û d e l'a ffa ir e d e la q u e lle i l vous p la is t d e m 'é c rire
sa n s m e la d écla rer . . .*, 9.5.1675, ibid. no. 332), but instead of accepting the Duke’s invitation
and explaining his plan in Mainz, Leibnitz continued merely to write mysterious hints.
The whole plan was taken up and realized by Napoleon in 1798 (cf. P. Ritter, op. c it., p a ss im ).
363 Cf. D u te n s vol. IV, part III, pp. 287 ff: C o d e x Iu r is G e n tiu m d ip l o m a t ic s ; also E. Ruck:
D ie L e ib n it zisc h e S ta a tsid e e . Tübingen 1909.
364 Cf. A c a d e m y 1st series, vol. Ill, pp. 292 ff., especially Leibnitz’s letter to Landgrave Ernest,
31.3.1689.
365 Ib id . p. 295.
366 Ibid. p. 313.
367 Cf. D u te n s vol. IV, part III, pp. 270 ff. : O b se rv a tio n e s de iuris p rin c ip io , written after the perusal
of Samuel Cocceij’s D isse rta tio d e p rin c ip io iuris unico e t a d a e q u a to ; cf. Ruck, op. c it., pp.
21 ff.
368 D u te n s vol. IV, part III, pp. 271 ff.: N o v a M e th o d u s . . . , C a p u t VII.
369 Ib id . p. 272.
370 Cf. M é d ita tio n su r la n o tio n c o m m u n e d e la ju s tic e , in G. Moliat, R ech tsp h ilo so p h isch es a u s
L e ib n ize n s u n g e d ru c k te n S c h rifte n . Leipzig 1885, .p. 41 ff.
371 Ibid. p. 42.
372 Ib id . p. 47.
373 Cf. A c a d e m y Ist series, vol. Ill, p. 289, letter to Landgrave Ernest, 27.4.1683.
374 Ib id . p. 301, letter to the Landgrave, July [?] 1683.
375 Ibid. p. 540, letter to Ph. W. von Hörnigk, June 1682.
NO TES. P A R T TW O 211
CHAPTER VI
376 Cf. S y s tè m e N o u v e a u § 10 (ed. Janet, vol. I, pp. 635 ff.), first published in the J o u r n a l d e s S a v a n ts ,
27.6.1695; it forms the concluding argument of Leibnitz’s lengthy correspondence with Simon
Foucher.
377 The term ‘ anonymous realm ’ [‘ a n o n y m e r M a c h tb e r e ic h *] is used by Victor von Weizsäcker
in his book A n o n y m a (Bern 1946), where he follows up the monadological way of thinking in
modern terms : ‘ We must realize that it is very difficult to express essential things in language.
For what I would like to express here are not really ideas ; to do that the language of our time
and our country is not unsuitable. But what is to be disclosed here is something essential
[ein W esen], and for this purpose language is merely one of several different methods, and not
necessarily the most adequate. . . . Hence what follows has as yet no name. Indeed, I would
know a name—Monadology—but I cannot use it, because it was devised by Leibnitz. The
title would not be mine . . . And so I choose as my title A n o n y m a (S c r ip tu r a ).' (Introduction.)
378 Cf. C o u tu ra t § 5, p. 13; M o n a d o lo g y §§ 87-89; letter to Thomasius, 29.4.1669, 14: ‘ . . . ord o
p u lc h e r h o ro lo g iu m D e i.'
379 Cf. G ru n d riss . . . in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, no. 43, §§ 20-24, pp. 535 ff.
380 Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. VII, p. 51; C o u tu ra t pp. 3-8, 94 ff. Couturat: L o g iq u e pp. 506-507.
381 Cf. Œ u v re s vol. VII, pp. 280, 288, 528, 580, 616 ff.
382 Cf. N o v a m e th o d u s discen d a e do cen d a eq u e Iu risp ru d e n tia e 1667, Part II, § 5: *N e c m ir u m e s t,
q u o d in Iu r isp r u d e n tia , id e m e t in T h eo lo g ia u su ven ire, q u ia T h eo lo g ia sp e c ie s q u a e d a m e s t Iu r is
p r u d e n tia e u n iversim s u m ta e , a g it e n im d e Iu r e e t L e g ib u s o b tin e n tib u s in R e p u b lic a a u t p o tiu s
regno D E I su p e r h o m in e s; m o ra lis d e Iu r e p r iv a to , reliqua d e iu re p u b lic o : N a m , u t n o stra m e t
de Arte Combinatoria . . . a liq u a n tisp er e x sc r ib a m u s, in fid eles q u a si re b e lle s su n t , E c c le s ia v elu t
s u b d iti b oni, p e rso n a e E c c le sia stic a e , im o e t M a g is tr a tu s P o litic u s, v e lu t M in is tr i e t M a g is tr a tu s
su b o rd in a ti; E x c o m m u n ic a tio v e lu t B a n n u s, D o c trin a d e S c r ip tu r a S a c r a e t verbo D E I v elu t
d e L e g ib u s e t e a ru m in te rp re ta tio n e , d e C a n o n e lib ro ru m S a c r o r u m v e lu t d e L e g u m A u th e n tia ,
d e E rro rib u s fu n d a m e n ta lib u s q u a si d e D e lic tis C a p ita lib u s, d e Iu d ic io e x tr e m o , e t n o v issim a
d ie , e t v a litu ra illic s a tisfa c tio n e C h risti, v e lu t d e p r o c e s su lu d ic ia r io e t te rm in o , e t so lu tio n e
p r o a lio ; d e R e m issio n e P e c c a to r u m , v e lu t d e Iu r e a g g ra tia n d i, d e d a m n a tio n e a e te r n a v e lu t d e
P e o n a ca p ita li, a u t q u a e m o r ti a eq u ip a ra tu r, p e r p e tu i carceris. B re v ite r to ta f e r e T h eo lo g ia
m a g n a m p a r te m e x Iu risp ru d e n tia p e n d e t ' (A c a d e m y VIth series, vol. I, no. 10, pp. 294-295.)
383 Cf. letter to Duke John Frederick, 21.5.1671 (in A c a d e m y Und.series, vol. I, no. 58, p. 108),
where Leibnitz concludes a description of his theological and metaphysical plans and 4in ven
tio n e s ’ as follows : 4From these and other fundaments that were added thereunto I have
p r o v e d many a curious fact about the Human Soul and all reasonable minds, of which nobody
has thought yet, even though what issues [from these discoveries] in a manner unknown before
are th e tr u th s of religion, of divine providence, of the immortality of our souls, and many
other mysteries; all of which I intend to render as clear as anything can possibly be, thus
hoping to earn the gratitude of all those reasonable people who hate the atheism that is at
present growing among us, and who are concerned with eternity (—e t resp ice fin e m ! —) . . .’
The question is discussed once more in a letter to Magnus Wedderkopf: ‘ Q u a e erg o u ltim a
ra tio v o lu n ta tis d iv in a e ? In te lle c tu s divinae. D e u s e n im v u lt q u a e o p tim a ite m harmonicaTa
in te llig it ea que v e lu t se lig it e x n u m e ro o m n iu m p o ss ib iliu m in fin ito . Q u a e ergo in te lle c tu s d iv in i ?
H a rm o n ia re ru m . Q u a e h a rm o n in a e r e r u m ? N ih il.' (A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 60, p.
117.) Cf. also below, the discussion of Leibnitz’s dyadic symbols.
384 Cf. S e c u r ita s P u b lic a § 5, in A c a d e m y IVth series, vol. I, pp. 133-134, § 5, and above, note 16
to the Introduction.
385 Cf. T h e o d ic y , Preface: 4J e l'a i d é jà d it, i l f a u t jo in d r e la lu m iè re à l'a rd e u r, il f a u t q u e les p e r
fe c tio n s d e l'e n te n d e m e n t d o n n e n t l'a c c o m p liss e m e n t à celles d e la v o lo n té .' (E rd m a n n p. 469.)
386 As to the importance of Kepler, especially of his H a rm o n ic e M u n d i, for Leibnitz, cf. T h e o d ic y
§380; D u te n s vol. V, pp. 163-167 and 170-171. Cf. also Jagodinski: L e ib n itia n a . Kazan 1913,
p. 36, section entitled E le m e n ta p h ilo so p h ia e a rcanae, d e s u m m a re ru m , e.g. : 4 H a rm o n ic u m
m a x im e q u o d g ra tiss im u m p e r fe c tis s im a e m e n tiu m .'
387 Cf. letter to Duke John Frederick: 4In T h eo lo g ia R e v e la ta I undertake to demonstrate not
v e rita te m (for this springs a rev e la tio n e ), but p o s s ib ilita te m m y s te r io r u m —co n tra in su ltu s in fi -
d e liu m e t A th e o r u m , and hence to secure it against all contradictions—namely p o ss ib ilita te m
T rin ita tis, in ca rn a tio n is, E u c h a ristia e . . .’ ( A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 84.)
388 Cf. letter to Arnauld, 23.3.1690, in Janet, Œ u vres p h ilo so p h iq u e s d e L e ib n itz , vol. I, pp. 615-
619: ‘ L a c h a rité e s t une bien ve illa n ce universelle d o n t le sa g e d isp en se V e x é c u tio n c o n fo r m é m e n t
a u x m e su re s de la raison, afin d 'o b te n ir le p lu s g r a n d bien.''
389 Cf. H. Lehmann: ‘ D e r B rie fw e c h se l zw isc h e n S p e n e r u n d L e i b n i t z ' In: J a h rb u ch f ü r branden-
b u rg isch e K irch en g esch ich te, 1916. Eleven letters by Leibnitz and four by Spener (1686-1700)
are to be found among the Leibnitz MSS. (no. 883) of the Royal Hanoverian Library.
The two men met for the first time in the spring of 1667 at Frankfurt, where Spener was ‘ senior
m in iste rii ’, and soon became close friends. Their correspondence touches on a number of
vital theological issues of the time: the Jesuit doctrine of probability advanced by the Jesuit
Father Caramuel y Lobkowitz, and Pascal’s attack on it; the Paris controversy on the pri
macy of the Roman Church and of its doctrine of transubstantiation, between the Lutheran
Osiander and the Reformed Claude on one hand and the Jansenist Arnauld on the other;
the ‘ syncretism ’ of the Kiel Professor Musäus, etc.
For the correspondence with Duke John Frederick, cf. A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, especially
nos. 42, 58, 84.
390 Cf. H. Lehmann: ‘ N e u e E in b lic k e in d ie E n tste h u n g sg e sc h ic h te d e r L e ib n itzisc h e n P h ilo so p h ie .*
In: Z e its c h r ift f ü r P h ilo so p h ie u n d p h ilo so p h isc h e K r itik , vol. CLXII, 1917, pp. 24 ff.
391 Cf. F. Tönnies, ‘ L e ib n iz u n d H o b b e s in P h ilo so p h isch e M o n a ts h e fte 1887, pp. 557 ff.
It is important to realize (which Tönnies fails to do) that Leibnitz and Spener closely adhered
to Grotius’s ideas, even though they followed a different method; hence Tönnies misunder
stands the nature of Leibnitz’s assent to Hobbes’s deduction of Natural Law. Leibnitz never
abandoned the teleological outlook, but on the contrary emphasized it most strongly when
using the ‘ demonstrative m ethod’ of Spinoza and Hobbes; it is this teleological outlook
which issued from his ethics and eventually became the central criterion of his epistemology.
392 The Latin text is quoted from L. Stein, L e ib n iz u n d S p in o z a . E in B e itr a g z u r E n tw ic k lu n g s
g e sc h ic h te d e r L e ib n izisc h e n P h ilo so p h ie. Berlin 1890, pp. 320 ff. Stein did not, however,
follow up the influence of the *viri p i i e t p r u d e n te s ’ (Grotius, Spener) upon Leibnitz’s work.
393 This MS. is not mentioned by Stein {op. cit. note 392); cf. also Lehmann, op. cit. (note 390,
above), p. 27.
394 This idea is formulated in many different ways; cf. especially the treatise entitled S u r c e q u i
p a s s e le s se n s e t la m a tiè re , 1702, written for the perusal of Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia;
in the L e tt r e which forms part of this treatise, Leibnitz writes : *A in s i ce q u e les a n cien s P la to n i
c ie n s o n t rem a rq u é e s t tr è s v ra y e t dig n e d 'e s tr e co n sid éré [:] q u e V e x iste n c e d e s choses in telli
g ib le s e t p a rtic u liè re m e n t d e ce M o y q u i p e n s e e t q u e V on a p p elle V e sp rit o u V âm e, e s t in c o m
p a r a b le m e n t p lu s asseu rée q u e V e x iste n c e d e s choses sen sib les, e t q u 'a in si i l n e se r o it p o in t im p o s
sib le en p a r la n t d e la rig u e u r m é ta p h y siq u e q u ’il n 'y a u ro it au fo n d s q u e d e s apparences. A u lieu
q u e n o stre p e u d 'a tte n tio n f a i t p re n d r e le s ch o ses sen sib les p o u r se u le s vérita b les , i l e s t b o n a ussi
d e rem a rq u er q u e s i j e tro u v e ro is quelque vé rité d e m o n str a tiv e m a th é m a tiq u e ou a u tre, en songeant,
e lle se r o it to u t a u ssi certa in e q u e s i j e veillois, ce q u i f a i t voir c o m b ien la vé rité in te llig ib le e st
in d é p e n d a n te d e la v é rité o u d e l'e x is te n c e h o rs d e no u s d e s ch o ses sen sib les e t m a te r ie lle s .. . .
‘ C e tte co n cep tio n d e V E s tr e e t d e la V é rité se tro u ve d o n c da n s ce M o y e t d a n s l'e n te n d e m e n t
p lu s to s t q u e d a n s le s se n s e x te r n e s e t d a n s la p e rc e p tio n d e s o b je ts e x té r ie u r s .. . . ' {G erhardt vol.
VI, p. 494.)
395 Cf. G e rh a rd t vol. I, e.g. pp. 47 and 68: ‘ C o g ita tio n e m con sistere in conatu, u t corpus in motu
. . .’; ‘ o m n e co rpus m e n s m o m e n ta n e a se u ca ren s re co rd a tio n e . . ‘ m e n tis n o stra e esse
punctum q u o d d a m se u centrum . .
396 Cf. G erh a rd t vol. VI, p. 494, quoted in note 394 above. Leibnitz has here in mind the school
of Cambridge Platonists, with which he was acquainted through Henry More. Cf. also
D. Mahnke, U nendliche S p h ä re u n d A llm itte lp u n k t. Halle 1937.
397 Cf. U nvorgreiffliche G e d a n c k e n , b e tr e ffe n d d ie A u sü b u n g u n d d ie V erbesserung d e r T eutschen
S p ra c h e {C o n sid éra tio n s su r la C u ltu re e t la P e rfe c tio n d e la la ngue A lle m a n d e ) Part I, § 5 [quoted
from Leibnitz’s own French-German parallel text] : ‘ C e q u 'il f a u t p rin c ip a le m e n t observer
da n s l'u sa g e d e la la ngue , c 'e s t q u e les m o ts n e so n t p a s se u le m e n t les sig n es d e s p e n sé e s, m a is
a u ssi d e s choses q u e n o u s a vo n s besoin d e ren d re p a r d e s sig n es, so it p o u r m a n ife s te r n o stre se n ti
m e n t a u x a u tres, so it p o u r venir au seco u rs d e n o s p e n sé e s ; c a r c o m m e da n s une g ra n d e ville
d e C o m m erce, e t a u je u , o n n e p a y e p a s ch aque f o i s en a rg e n t c o m p ta n t, m a is en b ille ts ou en
je tto n s , ju s q u 'a u p a y e m e n t fin a l; i l e n e s t d e m ê m e d e l'e n te n d e m e n t, à l'é g a r d d e s idées d e s choses;
N O T E S. PA R T TW O 213
su r -to u t lors q u 'il e s t o b lig é d e p e n se r b e a u c o u p ; c 'e s t à d ire q u 'il se s e r t d e s sig n e s, p o u r n 'ê tr e
p a s o b lig é d 'e x a m in e r ch aque f o i s la ch o se, q u a n d e lle se p ré s e n te .' ( D u te n s vol. VI, pars Ha,
p. 7 : B u c h e n a u -C a ssire r vol. II, p. 520.) The difference between an intuitive and a reflective
intellectual activity is to be seen most clearly in the difference between Jacob Boehme’s ‘ lingua
a d a m ic a ' and Leibnitz’s ‘ lingua u n iversa lis '. For while Boehme claims to derive a knowledge
of different things directly from the sound-quality of his ‘ natural language ’, Leibnitz in his
S c ie n tia G eneralis analyses the ‘ component parts ’ of thinking into their 4prime factors ’,
and to these prime factors he then gives the arbitrary symbols with which he conducts his
epistemological calculus.
398 Cf. P rin c ip e s d e la N a tu r e e t d e la G râce, fo n d é s en R a iso n . 1714, § 14: ‘ N o s tr e â m e e s t a rc h i
tecto n iq u e en co re d a n s le s a c tio n s vo lo n ta ires, e t d é c o u v ra n t le s scie n c e s su iv a n t lesq u elles D ie u
a ré g lé les ch o ses (pondere, mensura, numero), e lle im ite d a n s so n d é p a r te m e n t, e t d a n s so n
p e t i t M o n d e o ù i l lu i e s t p e r m is d e s 'e x e r c e r , ce q u e D ie u f a i t d a n s le g r a n d .' {E rd m a n n p. 717.)
Cf. also W. Feilchenfeld: 4L e ib n iz u n d H e n r y M o r e '. In: K a n ts tu d ie n vol. XXVIII, no. 3/4,
1923, p. 332.
399 Cf. letter to Rémond de Montmort: 4 D a n s l'id é a l o u c o n tin u le to u t e s t a n té r ie u r a u x p a r tie s ,
c o m m e l'u n ité A r ith m é tiq u e e s t a n té rie u re a u x fr a c tio n s q u i la p a r ta g e n t, e t q u 'o n y p e u t a ssig n e r
a rb itra ire m e n t, le s p a r tie s n e so n t q u e p o te n tie lle s ; m a is d a n s le r é e l le sim p le e s t a n té rie u r a u x
a sse m b la g e s, le s p a r tie s s o n t a c tu e lle s, s o n t a v a n t le to u t. C e s c o n sid é ra tio n s lè v e n t le s d iffic u lté s
su r le c o n tin u , q u i su p p o se n t q u e le c o n tin u e s t q u elq u e c h o se d e réel, e t a d e s p a r tie s a v a n t to u te
d ivisio n , e t q u e la m a tiè r e e s t u n e su b sta n c e . I l n e f a u t d o n c p o in t c o n cevo ir l'é te n d u e c o m m e un
E sp a c e r é e l c o n tin u , p a r s e m é d e p o in ts . C e so n t les fic tio n s p r o p r e s à c o n te n te r l'im a g in a tio n ,
m a is o ù la ra iso n n e tro u ve p o in t so n c o m p te .' {G erh a rd t vol. III, pp. 622-623.)
400 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y §§ 38, 40, 43, 47, 85.

401 ‘ A in s i ce q u e le s a n c ie n s P la to n ic ie n s o n t re m a rq u é e s t tr è s v ra y e t tr è s d ig n e d 'e s tr e co n sid éré,
q u e l'E x is te n c e d e s ch o ses in te llig ib le s e t p a r tic u liè r e m e n t d e ce M o y q u i p e n s e e t q u 'o n a p p elle
l'e s p r it o u l'â m e , e s t in c o m p a ra b le m e n t p lu s a sse u ré e q u e l'E x is te n c e d e s ch o ses se n sib le s; e t
q u 'a in si i l n e se r a it p o in t im p o ssib le, en p a r la n t d a n s la rig u e u r m é ta p h y siq u e , q u 'il n 'y a u ro it
au fo n d s q u e c es su b s ta n c e s in tellig ib les, e t q u e le s ch o ses se n sib le s n e se r o ie n t q u e d e s a p p a ren ces.'
{G erh a rd t vol. VI, p. 503.)
402 Cf. letter to F. W. Bierling [1709-1711 ?], in G e rh a rd t vol. VII, pp. 487 and 497.
403 Cf. R é p liq u e d e M r L e ib n itz a u x R é fle x io n s c o n te n u e s d a n s la se c o n d e E d itio n d u D ic tio n n a ire
C ritiq u e d e M . B a y le , A r tic le 4R o ra riu s ', su r le S y s tè m e d e l'H a r m o n ie p r é é ta b lie [1702]: 4M a is
ce q u e la L e tt r e d it c o n tr e la d iv isio n à l'in fin i, f a i t b ie n voir, q u e c e lu i q u i l'a é c r ite é to it en core
tro p é tra n g e r d a n s ce m o n d e su p érieu r , e t q u e le s agrémens d u m o n d e visible, d o n t i l a é c rit, n e
lu i la issera ien t p a s le te m p s q u 'il f a u t p o u r a c q u érir le d r o it d e b o u rg eo isie d a n s l'a u tr e . M r
B a y le a raison d e dire, a vec le s A n c ie n s, q u e Dieu exerce la Géométrie, e t q u e les M a th é m a tiq u e s
f o n t u n e p a r tie d u m o n d e in te lle c tu e l, e t so n t le s p lu s p r o p r e s p o u r y d o n n e r e n trée. M a is j e crois
m o i-m ê m e q u e so n in té rie u r e s t quelque, ch o se d e p lu s . J 'a i in sin u é a illeu rs, q u 'il y a un c a lc u l
p lu s im p o r ta n t q u e c e u x d e l'A r ith m é tiq u e e t d e la G é o m é trie , e t q u i d é p e n d d e /’Analyse des
idées.’ {E rd m a n n pp. 190-191, in G e rh a rd t vol. IV, pp. 554 ff.)
404 4I I se p e u t ce p e n d a n t q u e ce C h e v a lie r a it en co re e u q u e lq u e b o n e n th o u sia sm e , q u i l'a i t tra n sp o rté
d a n s ce M o n d e invisible, e t d a n s c e tte é te n d u e in fin ie, d o n t i l p a r le , e t q u e j e cro is ê tr e celle d e s
id ées o u fo r m e s , d o n t o n t p a r lé en co re q u e lq u e s S c h o la s tiq u e s e n m e tta n t e n q u estio n , utrum
detur vacuum formarum.’ {L o c . c it.)
405 Among many similar passages cf. M é d ita tio n su r la n o tio n c o m m u n e d e ju s tic e : * C 'e s t a u ssi à
p e u p r è s c o m m e s i q u e lq u 'u n vo u lo it so u te n ir q u e n o stre scien ce, p a r e x e m p le celle d e s n o m b res,
q u 'o n a p p elle A r ith m é tiq u e , n e s'a c c o rd e p a s a v e c celle d e D ie u ou d e s A n g e s o u p e u t e s tr e q u e
to u te la vé rité e s t a rb itra ire e t d e p e n d d u b o n p la isir. P a r e x e m p le 1, 4, 9, 16, 25 e tc . so n t d e s
n o m b re s quarrés, sa v o ir q u i se p ro d u ise n t en m u ltip lia n t 1, 2, 3, 4,. 5, e tc . p a r e u x m ê m e s e n d isa n t
une f o i s un e s t un, d e u x fo i s d e u x e s t q u a tre , tr o is fo i s tr o is e s t n e u f, e tc .; il s e tro u v e a u ss i que
les n o m b re s im p a irs to u t d e s u ite s o n t les d iffé re n c e s d e s n o m b re s q u a rrés p r is to u t d e su ite :
0 1 4 9 16 25 . . . etc.
1 3 5 7 9 ... e tc .
M a in te n a n t a u ro it-o n ra iso n d e so u te n ir, q u e ce n 'e s t p a s a in si c h e z D ie u e t c h e z le s a n g e s ,
e t q u 'ils v o y e n t o u tro u v e n t d a n s le s n o m b re s to u t le c o n tra ire d e ce q u e no u s y tro u vo n s ?'
{R e c h tsp h ilo so p h isch es a u s L e ib n ize n s u n g e d ru c k te n S c h r ifte n . Edited by G. Moliat, Leipzig
1885, p. 60.)
406 Cf. Jagodinsky op. cit. (note 386 above), p. 424; also letter to the Duke of Hanover, October
1671 : ‘In T h eo lo g ia N a tu ra lis I am able to demonstrate e x n a tu ra m o tu s in p h y sic is a m e d e te c ta
that there could be no m o tu s in corporibus p e r s e s u m tis , for n is i a c c e d a t m ens', that thefe
must exist a R a tio u ltim a re ru m se u H a rm o n ia U niversalis, id e s t D e u s ; that such [a being could]
not be the cause of sins, and yet that P e c c a ta p o e n is s e m e t p u n ie n tia e t co m p en sa n tia in accord
ance with an H a rm o n ia U niversalis, just as a .. . reconciliation following upon ill-temper makes
a picture or the tone of a voice lovelier; that m e n s is in corporea , that m e n te m a g e re in se ipsam ,
n u lla m a c tio n e m in se ip sa m e sse m o tu m , n u lla m e sse a c tio n e m corporis p r a e te r m o tu m , a c p ro in d e
m e n te m n o n esse corpus. M e n te m c o n sistere in p u n c to se u c e n tro , a c p ro in d e e sse indivisibilem
in co rru p tib ilem im m o rta le m . Just as all rays concur in cen tro , all im p ressio n es sen sib iliu m
concur p e r n ervos, so the mind is a small world contained in a single point, which consists of
Ideas—as the centre consists of angles—for a n g u lu s is p a r s c e n tr i , although the centre is in
divisible, and in this way the whole N a tu r a m e n tis can be explained g e o m e tr ic e .' {A c a d e m y
lind series, vol. I, no. 84.)
407 The text in G uhrauer vol. I, pp. 410-413 is corrupt; the reliable text (collated with Leibnitz’s
MS. I, vol. V/l at Hanover) has been established by D. Mahnke, and the present quotation is
taken from his essay ‘ D ie R a tio n a lisie ru n g d e r M y s t i k b e i L e ib n iz u n d K a n t ', in: B lä tte r f ü r
d e u tsc h e P h ilo so p h ie, vol. XIII, nos. 1/2, Berlin 1939, pp. 7-8.
408 Leibnitz himself speaks of his indebtedness to E. Weigel; cf. D u te n s vol. IV, pars. Ia, p. 209.
Cf. further D. Mahnke: L e ib n itz 's S y n th e s e von U n iv e rs a lm a th e m a tik u n d In d iv id u a lm e ta
p h y s ik . Halle 1925, pp. 253 ff.; also J. Baruzi: L e ib n itz e t l'o rg a n isa tio n relig ieu se d e la Terre.
Paris 1907, pp. 80-83 and 91-97.
409 Cf. D. Mahnke: D ie R a tio n a lisie ru n g d e r M y s t i k . . . pp. 23 ff.
410 Cf. G uhrauer vol. II, pp. 48 ff.: V on d e m V erhängnisse.
411 Cf. D u te n s vol. IV, p. 210: L e tt r e d e M . L e ib n iz su r la p h ilo so p h ie C h in o ise à M . d e R é m o n d :
‘ C e s fa c ilité s so n t celles q u 'u n h a b ille h o m m e a p ro p o s é e s d e p u is l'in tro d u c tio n d e c e tte A r ith m é
tiq u e d a n s ce rta in s calculs. M a i s la p rin c ip a le u tilité e st, q u 'e lle servira b ea u co u p à p e rfe c tio n n e r
la scien ce d e s n o m b re s p a r c e q u e to u t y va p a r p é rio d e s ' ; cf. also Couturat, L a L o g iq u e d e
L e ib n iz , pp. 475^-78.
412 Cf. G erh a rd t vol. III, p. 544; cf. also the unpublished letter to Morell, 14.5.1698, quoted in
Mahnke, op. c it . : ‘ D ie u e s t l'u n ité p r im itiv e e x p r im é e p a r to u te s les a u tre s [unités] su iv a n t leur
p o r té e . . . . L a c ré a tu re e s t variée selo n les d iffé r e n te s co m b in a iso n s d e l'u n ité a vec le zé ro ou
bien [du] p o s i t i f a vec le p r iv a tif.'
413 G u h ra u er vol. I, pp. 401-402.
414 Cf. D isc o u rs d e M é ta p h y siq u e § 9: \ . . // n 'e s t p a s v ra y q u e d e u x su b sta n c e s se ressem b len t
e n tiè re m e n t, e t s o y e n t d iffé r e n te s solo numero, e t q u e ce q u e S . T h o m a s a sseure su r ce p o in t des
a n g e s o u in te llig en ces (quod ibi omne individuum sit species infima) e s t v ra y d e to u te s le s su b
sta n c e s, p o u rv e u q u 'o n p re n n e la d iffé re n c e sp écifiq u e , c o m m e la p r e n n e n t les g é o m è tr e s à l'é g a rd
d e leur fig u re s. . . .
‘ D e p lu s , to u te su b sta n c e e s t c o m m e un m o n d e e n tie r e t c o m m e un m iro ir d e D ie u o u bien de
to u t l'u n iv e rs . . .
‘ O n p e u t m ê m e d ire q u e to u te su b sta n c e p o r te en q u elq u e fa ç o n le ca ra ctère d e la sa g esse infinie,
. . . c a r elle e x p r im e q u o y q u e c o n fu s é m e n t to u t ce q u i arrive da n s l'u n iv e rs, p a ss é , p r é s e n t o u avenir,
ce q u i a quelque re sse m b la n c e à une p e rc e p tio n o u connoissance infinie.' {G ro te fe n d pp. 161-162.)
In a later passage in the same work—§ 34— Leibnitz continues the argument on a different
level : ‘ . . . L 'â m e in te llig e n te co n n a issa n t ce q u 'e lle e st, e t p o u v a n t d ire ce moy, q u i d it beaucoup,
n e d e m e u re p a s m é ta p h y siq u e m e n t, . . . m a is e lle d e m e u re en core la m ê m e m o ra le m e n t e t f a i t
le m ê m e p e rso n n a g e . C a r c 'e s t le so u ven ir, o u la con n o issa n ce d e ce m o y , q u i la r e n d capable de
c h a stim e n t e t d e ré c o m p e n se .' {Ibid. p. 189.)
415 Cf. C o n sid éra tio n su r la D o c trin e d 'u n E s p r it U niversel, 1702, in E rd m a n n pp. 178-182, and
further especially H. Heimsoeth, '‘L e ib n iz ' W elta n sc h a u u n g a ls U rsprung sein er G ed a n ken w elt ',
in K a n tstu d ie n 1917, pp. 373 ff.
416 Cf. D isc o u rs § 35, in G ro te fe n d p. 190.
417 Cf. letter to Amauld, September 1687, in G ro te fe n d p. 122.
418 ‘ D e u s e s t sed es h a rm o n ia e u n iv e r s a lis ' {G erhardt vol. I, p. 73.) Cf. also M o n a d o lo g y § 43:
‘ I l e s t vrai a u ssi q u 'e n D ie u e s t n o n se u le m e n t la so u rc e d e s e x is te n c e s m a is en core celle des
essences, en ta n t q u e réelles, ou d e ce q u 'il y a d e r é e l da n s la p o ssib ilité . C 'e s t pa rceq u e l'e n te n d e
m e n t d e D ie u e s t la R é g io n d e s vérités é tern elles, o u d e s id ées d o n t e lles d é p e n d e n t.. . . ' {E rdm ann
p. 708.) (‘ It is true, further, that in God is the source not only of existences but also of essences,
in so far as they are real; [He is, in other words, the source] of all the reality there is in possi
bility. This is because the understanding of God is the region of eternal truths, or of the ideas
on which they depend. . . . ’ E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 10.)
419 For this and the following quotations cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 86: ‘ C e tte c ité d e D ie u , c e tte m o n a rc h ie
v é rita b le m e n t un iverselle e s t un m o n d e m o r a l d a n s le m o n d e n a tu r e l, e t ce q u 'il y d e p lu s éle v é
e t d e p lu s divin d a n s les o u vra g es d e D ie u , e t c 'e s t en lu y q u e c o n siste v é rita b le m e n t la g lo ire de
D ie u , p u is q u 'il n 'y en a u ro it p o in t, s i sa g ra n d e u r e t sa b o n té n 'é to ie n t p a s co n n u es e t a d m iré e s
p a r le s e sp rits: c 'e s t a u ss i p a r ra p p o rt à c e tte c ité divine, q u 'il a p r o p r e m e n t d e la b o n té , a u lie u
q u e sa sa g esse e t sa p u is sa n c e se m o n tr e n t p a r to u t.' (E rd m a n n p. 712.) (‘ This City of God,
this truly universal monarchy, is a moral world within the natural world; it is the most exalted
and the most divine of God’s works, and in it truly consists His glory, for he would have none
if His greatness and goodness were not known and admired by minds; [and further,] it is also
in relation to this divine City that He may properly be said to possess goodness, whereas His
wisdom and power are manifest everywhere.’ E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 18.)
420 M é d ita tio n su r la n o tio n c o m m u n e d e la J u stic e , in Moliat o p . cit. (see note 405 above), p. 56 ff.;
cf. also D isc o u rs d e M é ta p h y s iq u e §§ 1-3, in G r o te fe n d pp. 154-156.
421 D isc o u rs § 2, in Grotefend p. 155; cf. also M o n a d o lo g y § 46: ‘ C ep e n d e n t i l n e f a u t p o in t s 'im a
g in e r a vec q u elq u es uns, q u e les vé rité s é te rn e lle s é ta n t d é p e n d a n t d e D ieu , so n t a rb itra ire s e t
d é p e n d e n t d e sa v o lo n té , c o m m e D e s C a rte s p a r o ît l'a v o ir p r is e t p u is M o n s . P o ire t. C ela n 'e s t
vérita b le q u e d e s vé rité s c o n tin g e n te s d o n t le p rin c ip e e s t la convenance o u le c h o ix d u meilleur,
au lieu q u e les vé rité s nécessa ires d é p e n d e n t u n iq u e m e n t d e so n e n te n d e m e n t e t e n so n t l'o b je t
in te rn e .' {E rd m a n n p. 708.) (‘ We must not, however, imagine, as some do, that because the
eternal truths are dependent upon God, they are therefore arbitrary and depend on His will,
as Descartes, and later M. Poiret, seem to have thought. This is true only of contingent truths,
whose principle is fitn e s s or the choice of th e best', whereas necessary truths depend solely
upon His understanding, of which they are the internal object.’ E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 11.)
422 Cf. M é d ita tio n su r la n o tio n c o m m u n e d e la ju s tic e , in Moliat, op. c it., Chapter VIII, pp. 56-57.
423 Cf. G. C. Lichtenberg’s reflection, written in 1777: ‘ Leibnitz defended the Christian religion;
to conclude from this that he was a good Christian (as’the theologians do) betrays a very
poor knowledge of the world. The vanity of wishing to say something brighter than the pro
fessionals have said is with men like Leibnitz, who had about him little that was firm, a more
probable mainspring of such an action than religion. Let us look more frequently into our
own hearts, and we shall see how little can be claimed regarding others. Indeed, I venture to
prove that we often believe that we believe something, and yet we don’t believe it. Nothing
is more mysterious than the system of the mainsprings of our actions.’ (G. C. Lichtenberg:
A p h o rism e n . [‘ Waste-book’ entry, 17.1.1777.] Ed. by Leitzmann, Berlin 1906, vol. II, no.
F 345.) And yet it must be added that the motive-power behind Leibnitz’s Christian apologetics
was not mere vanity, but ‘ ein e e c h te S o rg e .'
424 D isc o u rs .... § 36, conclusion.
425 O p. cit. § 37.
426 Ibid.
427 For the first passage cf. T h e o d ic y , Preface: ‘ . . . E t j e f a i s se u le m e n t voir c o m m e n t J é su s -C h ris t
acheva d e fa i r e p a s s e r la R e lig io n n a tu re lle e n loi, e t d e lu i d o n n er l'a u to r ité d 'u n d o g m e p u b lic .
I l f i t lui s e u l ce q u e ta n t d e P h ilo so p h e s a v o ie n t en vain tâ c h é d e fa ir e .
‘ . . . L 'o n v o it q u e J é su s -C h ris t . . . a voulu q u e la D iv in ité f û t l'o b je t, n o n se u le m e n t d e n o tre
c ra in te e t d e n o tr e vénération, m a is en co re d e n o tr e a m o u r e t d e n o tr e ten d resse. . . .
‘ P o u r l'a im e r, i l su ffit d 'e n en visa g er les p e r fe c tio n s ; ce q u i e s t aisé, p a r c e q u e n o u s tro u v o n s en
n o u s leurs idées. L e s p e r fe c tio n s d e D ie u so n t celles d e n o s â m e s, m a is il le s p o ss è d e sa n s b o rn es:
il e s t un O céan, d o n t n o u s n 'a v o n s reçu q u e d e s g o u t t e s .. . . ' {E rd m a n n p. 469.) See also note 17
above.
The second passage is contained in a letter to Rémond de Montmort, 26.8.1714, in E rd m a n n
pp. 703-704. Cf. also T h eodicy, Preface: ‘ D ie u e s t to u t ordre, i l g a rd e to u jo u rs la ju s te s s e
des p ro p o rtio n s, i l f a i t l'H a r m o n ie un iverselle: to u te la b e a u té e s t un é p a n c h e m e n t d e ses ra y o n s *
{E rd m a n n p. 469), and M o n a d o lo g y § 47: ‘A in s i D ie u s e u f e s t l'u n ité p r im itiv e o u la su b sta n c e
sim p le originaire, d o n t to u te s les M o n a d e s créées o u d é riv a tiv e s so n t d e s p ro d u c tio n s, e t n a is se n t ,
p o u r a in si d ire , p a r d e s fu lg u r a tio n s co n tin u e lle s d e la D iv in ité d e m o m e n t à m o m e n t, bornées
p a r la ré c e p tiv ité d e la créa tu re à la qu elle il e s t e ss e n tie l d 'ê t r e lim ité e .' {E rd m a n n p. 708.)
(‘ Thus God alone is the prime Unity, or original simple substance, of which all monads,
created and derived, are produced; and [they] are bom, so to speak, by continual fulgurations
of the Godhead from moment to moment, [and are] limited by the receptivity of the created
being, to which limitation is essential.’ E v e r y m a n 's ed. p. 11.)
428 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y § 84 (E rd m a n n p. 712, E v e r y m a n 's ed. pp. 18-19), and letter to Rémond de
Montmort, 26.8.1714: ‘ L a vé rité e s t p lu s rép a n d u e q u 'o n n e le p e n s e ; m a is elle e s t très-so u ven t
fa r d é e e t trè s-so u v e n t a u ssi enveloppée, e t m ê m e a ffo ib lie , m u tilé e , co rro m p u e p a r d e s a d d itio n s
q u i la g â te n t o u la re n d e n t m o in s utile. E n fa is a n t rem a rq u er c es tra c e s d e la vé rité d a n s les
A n c ie n s , ou, p o u r p a rle r p lu s g é n é ra le m e n t, d a n s les a n térieu rs, on tire ro it l'o r d e la b oue, le d ia m a n t
d e s a m in e, e t la lu m ière d e s té n è b re s; e t ce s e r o it en e ffe t perennis quaedam Philosophia.’
{E rd m a n n p. 704.)
429 Cf. Herder’s B rie fe z u r F ö rd eru n g der H u m a n itä t (ed. Suphan, Berlin 1877 ff., vol. XVII, p.
337). Also Lessing, S ä m tlic h e W e r k e (ed. Lachmann, Stuttgart 1886 ff., vol. XV, p. 512.)
430 The problem of freedom and necessity interests Leibnitz from three points of view: (1) in
its logical aspect C the labyrinth of the human mind ’), (2) as an ethical crisis (on freedom of
choosing either good or evil), (3) as a religious antinomy (the moral law and Divine Will;
freedom and predestination). In his student-days the enquiry is opened from the theological
aspect in his essay V on d e r A llm a c h t u n d A llw isse n h e it G o tte s u n d d e r F re ih e it d e s M e n sc h e n
(1670—1671 [?] in A c a d e m y VIth series, vol. I, no. 20, pp. 537 ff.); this work contains in fact a
first outline of the central ideas of the T h e o d ic y of 1705. Between these dates were written
the two essays V om V erhängnisse (in G u h ra u er vol. II, pp. 45-55) and d e L ib e r ta te (in N o u v e lle s
L e ttr e s pp. 178 fit).
431 Cf. V o m V erhän gnisse, in: G u h ra u er vol. II, pp. 51-52, and also Leibnitz’s definition of freedom
in d e L ib e r ta te : ‘ E o m a g is e s t lib e rta s quo m a g is a g itu r e x ra tio n e , eo m a g is e s t se rv itu s quo
m a g is a g itu r e x a n im i p a ss io n ib u s .’ {E rd m a n n p. 669.)
432 Cf. C o u tu ra t , Preface p. VIII.
433 Cf. Leibnitz’s early letter to Arnauld, 1671: ‘ C o m m e j e l'a i d é m o n stré , le véritable lieu d e
n o stre e sp r it e s t un c e rta in p o in t o u c e n tre ; j 'e n d é d u is c erta in es conséquences rem arquables su r
l'im p o ssib ilité d e l'a r r ê t d e la p e n sé e , la vérita b le e t in tim e d iffé re n c e e n tr e le m o u v e m e n t e t la
p e n s é e ; la p e n s é e c o n siste d a n s l'e ffo r t [in conatu] c o m m e le co rp s d a n s le m o u v e m e n t [in motu].’
(Quoted from Œ u v re s C h o isies d e L e ib n iz , ed. Prennant, Paris n. d., Latin text in A c a d e m y
Und series, vol. I, no. 87, p. 173.)
434 Cf. letter to Simon Foucher (‘ A M o n s . l'A b b é F o u c h e r a u te u r d e la critiq u e d e la rech erch e d e
la vé rité ’), 1675, in A c a d e m y Und series, vol. I, no. 120, p. 247.
435 Cf. T h eo d icy, first paragraph of the Preface: ‘ O n a vu d e to u t terns q u e le c o m m u n d e s h o m m e s
a m is la d é v o tio n da n s le s fo r m a lité s : la solide piété, c 'e st-à -d ire la lu m ière e t la vertu, «’a jamais
é té d e p a r ta g e d u g r a n d n o m b re. N o u s so m m e s fr a p p é s p a r l'e x té r ie u r , e t l'in te rn e d e m a n d e une
d iscu ssio n d o n t p e u d e g e n s se re n d e n t capables. . . .
‘ I l s 'e n s u it m a n ife s te m e n t q u e la vérita b le p ié té , e t m ê m e la vérita b le fé lic ité , co n siste da n s l'a m o u r
d e D ie u , m a is d a n s un a m o u r écla iré, d o n t l'a rd e u r so it a cco m p a g n ée d e lu m iè re .' {E rdm ann
pp. 468 and 469.) Cf. also Leibnitz’s letter to Seckendorf!: *P u to en im , D E U M n o n ta n tu m
in h is to ria sa cra e t c ivili a u t e tia m n a tu ra lis n o b is loqui, s e d e t in tu s in m e n te n o stra , p e r a b stra c ta s
illas a m a te ria a e tern a sq u e V e rita te s.' {A c a d e m y lind series, vol. I, p. 533.)
436 Cf. Kuno Fischer, L e ib n itz : L e b e n , L e h r e u n d W e r k e . {G eschichte d e r n eueren P h ilo so p h ie ,
vol. I I I ) Heidelberg 1897 ff., p. 293.
437 On the question of Leibnitz’s peculiar position at the courts of Hanover and Berlin, cf. Kuno
Fischer’s argument: ‘ His position in Berlin was based on the trust and affection of both
Electresses, mother and daughter. Both were interested in maintaining a harmonious and
friendly atmosphere between the courts, in order to strengthen the Hanoverian influence in
Berlin, and to be well informed of and influence events there by means of a skilful and trust
worthy person. For this task Leibnitz seemed the right man. In a memorandum to both
women he offered himself for this service. . . .
‘ The sudden death of the Queen on the 5th February 1705 robbed him of his greatest support
and of the very purpose of his mission there; it was the most painful loss he ever suffered. . . .
‘ Frederick the Great tells how on Tier death-bed the Queen had said: “ Do not pity me. For
I am going now to satisfy my curiosity about those things which M. Leibnitz could never
explain to me: about Space, Infinity, Being and Nothing; and I am giving my husband, the
King, the spectacle of a funeral which will enable him to exhibit his splendour.” ’ {O p. cit.
pp. 124 ff.)
438 The following is a list of the principal titles, honours and functions which Leibnitz held at the
end of his life: Hanoverian, Brandenburg and Russian K.C. (‘ g e h e im e r J u s tiz r a t ’), Imperial
Councillor (* R e ic h s h o fr a t') of the Holy Roman Empire; historiographer to the Court of
Brunswick-Lüneburg; member of the Royal Society and of the A c a d é m ie d e s S c ie n c e s ; Baron
of the Empire (‘ R e ic h sfre ih e rr ’), etc. During his stay in Rome he was offered by Cardinal
Casanate the post of Keeper of the Vatican Library (cf. his letter to Abbé Le Thorel, 25.11.1698,
in B o d e m a n n no. 554)—an offer which no Protestant had ever received.
439 ‘ Indeed, it was a total banishment which King George imposed upon Leibnitz through his
decree to the Hanoverian Government of the 3rd November 1714. Because of that brief journey
[to Saxony in the late autumn of 1714] on which Leibnitz had gone without permission after
his return from Vienna, the King announced to him his “ displeasure and surprise ”, reproach
ing him further with having achieved nothing in spite of his [Leibnitz’s] solemn pledge of 1691.
“ Let him now abstain from all further journeys and other distractions ”, the King adds.
In brief, Leibnitz was not to move from his residence, being punished.like a lazy boy.’ (Fischer,
op. c it. p. 282.) Cf. also Paul Ritter (editor of the A c a d e m y ed.): ‘ W ie L e ib n iz g e sto rb e n u n d
beg ra b en is t \ in: P re u ssisc h e J a h rb ü c h e r , vol. CLVII, Berlin 1914.
440 Cf. D. Mahnke: D ie R a tio n a lisie ru n g . . . loc. cit. The question is from a twelfth-century
textbook, L ib e r X X I V p h ilo so p h o ru m : * D e u s e s t sp h a e ra in fin ita , cu iu s c e n tru m e s t ubique ,
c irc u m fe re n tia vero n u sq u a m .*
441 Cf. Schelling’s U n tersu ch u n g v o m W e se n d e r m e n sc h lic h e n F re ih e it of 1809 (in: F . W . S c h e llin g s
W e r k e , ed. M. Schröter, München 1927, vol. IV, p. 243). Schelling’s own appraisal of Leibnitz’s
work will be found in his treatise Z u r G e sch ich te d e r n eu eren P h ilo so p h ie {ibid. vol. V, pp. 129
ff.): *His [Leibnitz’s] philosophy was not necessarily h is o w n philosophy; it was, for the most
part, the philosophy of his age, that is the philosophy his age was capable of sustaining.. . .
There is no doubt that Leibnitz’s vision was greater than he himself admitted. He was as it
were endowed with magic sight, a sight before which every object of contemplation opened
u p . . . . His main aim seems to have been to appease the revolutionary element that had entered
philosophy through Descartes; and to assert the fr e e d o m of dialectic against Spinoza’s objective
rationalism, which was premature and tended to become too rigid; the dialectic, on the other
hand, was as yet not exhausted and had not yet borne its fruits.’
INDEX
(Figures in italics refer to Notes)
Adam, Charles, 43. Baillet, 47.

Addison, Joseph (1672-1719), essayist, 32. Bajus, Michael (de Bay) (1513-1589), catholic
Albrecht V, Duke of Bavaria (1528-1579), theologian, 68.
135 . Banez, Dominicus (1582-1604), Spanish
Alexander VIII, Pope (1610-1691), 173. theologian, 69.
Algarotti, Count Francesco (1712-1764), Barclay, Robert (1648-1690), quaker apolo
humanist, 57. gist, 70.
Alstedt, Johann Heinrich (1588-1638), theo Bargoldensis, 188.
logian and polyhistor, 127. Barkhausen (Barkhusen), Hermann (1629-
Althusius, Johannes (1557-1638), legal scho 1694), Lutheran theologian and philoso
lar, 137. pher, 173.
Amalia, see Wilhelmine Amalia, wife of Barrow, Isaac (1630-1677), divine, classical
Emperor Joseph I. and mathematical scholar, 62.
Andala, Ruardus (1665-1727), Dutch con Barth, Paul, 6.
troversialist, 47. Barthold, Friedrich Wilhelm (1799-1858),
Andrea, F., 160. German historian, 167.
Andreae, Johannes Valentinus (1586-1654), Bartholinus, 237.
poet and theologian, 62, 63. Baruzi, Jean, 6 , 125, 2 1 6 , 408.
Andreae, Tobias, 113. Basnage de Beauval, Jacques (1653-1723),
Angela da Foligno, The Blessed (1248-1309), French protestant historian, 32; 245.
125. Bayle, Pierre (1647-1706), encyclopaedist, 16,
Angelus Silesius (1624-1677), mystic and 27, 30, 32, 39,41, 69, 71, 101, 121, 148, 157,
poet, 25, 95. 159; 34, 4 5 , 6 9 , 176, 3 1 9 , 3 2 2 , 403. His
Anna Amalia, Duchess of Weimar (1739— article R o ra riu s, 3 2 2 , 403.
1807), 34. Beauval, Basnage de, see Basnage.
Anne, Queen of England (1665-1714), 33, 164. Becher, Johann Joachim (1635-1682), chemist,
Anton-Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick-Wolffen- 29, 54, 58, 61, 64, 91, 104; 115, 2 3 8 , 261.
büttel (1633-1714), 77, 110, 163; 173. Beck, S.J., General of the Society of Jesus,
Apollonius Pergaeus, mathematician, 92. 146.
Aquaviva, Claudius, S.J. (1543-1615), Gene Beeck, J. G., 142.
ral of the Society of Jesus, 69. Bekker, Balthasar (1634-1698), Dutch theo
Aristotle, Aristoteleans, 43, 46, 51, 56, 57, 59, logian of the Reformed Church, 83.
61, 85, 86, 87, 88, 104, 111, 112, 137, 144, Benda, Julien, 28.
145; 6, 84, 190, 310. Bense, Max, 6, 93.
Amauld, Antoine (1612-1694), Jansenist Bemegger, Matthias (1582-1640), Protestant
theologian and philosopher, 44, 46, 51, 55, historian and jurist, 60.
56, 58, 62, 95, 101, 103, 105, 107, 108, 117, Bernier, François (ca. 1625-1688), French
121, 150, 164; 59, 6 9 , 82, 83, 84, 104, 122, traveller, 46; 57.
128, 175, 226, 227, 276, 295, 297, 2 9 9 , 3 0 1 - Bernoulli, Johannes (1667-1748), Bâle mathe
304, 3 1 6 , 3 2 4 , 3 2 8 , 3 4 9 , 3 5 0 , 3 8 8 , 3 8 9 , 417, matician, 17.
433. Bérulle, Pierre de (1575-1629), cardinal,
Arnold, Gottfried (1666-1714), pietist, poet restorator of the Oratorians, 75.
and church historian, 73, 74, 75; 160, 324. Beyer-Froelich, M., 195.
Asseburg, Rosamunde Juliane von (1672- Bierling, 126, 402.
after 1708), German mystic, 62. Bisterfeld, Johann Heinrich (d. 1655), mathe
Aubrey, John, 222. matician and mystic, 127.
St. Augustine, 16, 39, 42, 48, 51, 62, 68; 75, Blum, Baron Julius Heinrich, Leibnitz’s
141, 142, 148, 150, 321. correspondent, 281.
Augustus II, Elector of Saxony and King of Bodemann, Eduard (editor), 170; 125.
Poland (1670-1733), 30. Bodin(us), Jean (1530-1596), political philo
sopher, 27, 143.
Bach, Johann Sebastian, 18, 54. Boeckler, Johann Heinrich (1611-1692),
Bacon, Francis, 53, 61, 92, 152; 114. German legal and classical scholar, 104.
8 2 1 9
220 IN D E X
Boehme, Jacob (1575-1624), Silesian mystic, Calvin, Jean, 16, 39, 48, 69, 70, 71; 154,
16, 73, 74, 75, 104; 121, 160, 397. 157.
Boehmer, Just Henning (1674-1749), German Campanella, Tommaso (1568-1639), Italian
legal scholar, 22. Dominican, 61; 114.
Boerhave (Boerhaave), Hermann (1668-1738), Cantor, Moritz (1829-1920), historian of
Dutch physician, 17. mathematics, 83.
Boethius, 186. Caramuel y Lobkowitz, Johannes, S.J.
Bohr, Niels (1885-), physicist, 58. (1606-1682), theologian, 389.
Boileau-Despréaux, Nicolas (1636-1711), poet Carcavy, Pierre de (d. 1684), French mathe
and critic, 24, 46; .352. matician, 105.
Boineburg, Anna Christina, Baroness, wife of Cardanus, Hieronymus (Girolamo Cardano)
the following, 97; 242. (1501-1576), Italian naturalist, mathema
Boineburg, Johann Christian, Baron (1622— tician and philosopher, 39, 46, 53.
1672), minister at Mainz, 2, 3, 45, 63, 86, Carr, H. W., 170.
87, 97, 102, 104, 107, 119, 127, 129, 131- Cartesius (René Descartes), Cartesian, Car
135-6; 187, 201, 2 4 2 , 361. tesians, 16, 21-25, 34, 37, 38-65, 66, 69, 73,
Boineburg, Philipp Wilhelm, son of the 76, 85, 87, 93, 100, 103-107, 111-117, 121,
preceding (1656-1717), diplomat, 97; 241. 124, 145, 146, 151, 165; 2 2 , 43, 4 4 , 47, 5 2 ,
Boisguilbert (Boisguillebert), Pierre Le Pesant 6 9 , 75, 8 5 - 8 8 , 92, 112, 113, 121, 135, 138,
Sieur de(d. 1714), French political writer, 27. 1 9 1 , 2 6 0 , 2 6 7 , 3 1 0 , 3 2 2 , 4 2 1 , 441.
Boole, G. (1815-1864), logician and mathe Casanate, Hieronymus (1620-1700), Cardinal,
matician, 96. Vatican librarian, 438.
Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, Bishop of Meaux Cassirer, Ernst (1874-1945), German philo
(1627-1704), 26, 29, 38, 41, 45, 46, 48, 77, sopher, 169; 6, 397.
78, 103, 108, 117; 26, 171, 173. Cavalieri, Francesco Bonaventura (1598—
Bouiller, Francisque, 75. 1647), S.J., mathematician and astronomer,
Bourguet, Louis, Leibnitz’s correspondent, 64, 83.
126. Chambon, Jean, 25.
Bourignon, Antoinette de (1616-1680), mystic, Chapelain, Jean (1595-1674), French poet,
68,75; 1 3 7 ,1 5 0 ,1 6 3 . 105.
Boyer, Abel (1664-1729), writer and gram Charles V, Emperor of Germany (1500-1558),
marian, 32. 14, 15, 20, 67; 20.
Boyle, The Hon. Robert (1627-1691), physi Charles VI, Emperor of Germany, as Pre
cist and chemist, 17, 54, 61, 62; 128, 238. tender Charles III of Spain (1685-1740),
Bradley, F. H., 6. 33, 35.
Bragelogne, François de, Sieur d’Estinville, Charles I, King of England (1600-1649), 19,
captain in the Hanoverian Gardes du 20, 34.
Corps, mystic, 1 3 7 ,1 6 3 . Charles II, King of England (1630-1685), 29.
Breckling, Friedrich (1629-1711), theologian, Charles XII, King of Sweden (1682-1718), 33.
73, 74; 160. Charles IV, Duke of Lorraine (1604-1675),
Bredenburg, Jan (c. 1700), Rotterdam anti- 129, 132.
Spinozist, 47. Charles Louis, Prince Palatine (1617-1680).
Brewster, Sir David, 38. 34, 132.
Brinkmann, Donald, 323. Cherbury, see Herbert, Edward Lord.
Brinon, Madame de, first Mother Superior of Church, Alonso, 93.
St. Cyr, retired in 1688, 77; 172. Cicero, 85.
Browne, Sir Thomas (1605-1682), physician Clarke, Samuel (1675-1729), theologian,
and author, 121. Newton’s correspondent, 32, 36, 103; 192.
Bruno, Giordano, 42; 134. Clauberg, Johannes (1622-1665), Calvinist
Brunschvicg, Léon, 5 3 , 99. philosopherai; 113.
Buchenau, A. (editor), 169; 397. Clavius, 92.
Buchheim, Karl, 6. Clement VII, Pope (Giulio de’ Medici) (1478-
Burckhardt, Jacob (1818-1897), Swiss his 1534), 322.
torian, 26, 28. Clement XI, Albani, Pope (1649-1721), 77;
Burgh, Albert de, 106, 271. 173.
Burnet, Gilbert, bishop of Salisbury (1643- — His Bull “ Vineam Domini ”, 1705.
1715), 251. Clerselier, Claude (1614-1684), Cartesian
philosopher, 106, 113.
Calderon, 17. Cocceji, Samuel, Baron of (1679-1755),
Caligula, 162. Prussian legal scholar, 137; 367.
Calixtus, Georg (1586-1656), Lutheran theo Cohen, Hermann (1842-1918), German philo
logian, 32; 183. sopher, 6.
IN D E X 221
Colbert, Jean-Baptiste (1619-1683), French Elisabeth, daughter of James I (1596-1662),
minister, 24-28, 59, 72, 105, 163 ; 225, 352. Electress of the Palatinate, Queen of
Comenius, Jan Amos (Komenskv) (1592- Bohemia, mother of the following, 34.
1671), Moravian bishop and philosopher, Elisabeth, daughter of preceding (1618-1680),
educationalist, 62-65, 75, 88, 89, 95, 96, Countess Palatine, Abbess of Herford, 55,
105; 127, 1 3 4 ,2 2 8 -2 3 1 . 70; 87, 88.
Confucius, 142. Epicurus, 39.
Conring, Hermann (1606-1681), German Erasmus Roterodamus, Desiderius, 84; 186.
jurist, 61, 89, 104, 127; 201. Erdmann, Benno (1851-1922), German philo
Conway, Anne, Viscountess Conway (d. 1679), sopher, 6.
quaker philanthropist, 63. Erdmann, Johann Eduard (1805-1892), Ger
Copernicus, 43; 4 6 , 138. man historian of philosophy, editor, 6, 169.
Corneille, 16. Erdmannsdörffer, Benno, German historian,
Coste, Pierre (1668-1747), French translator 209.
and empiricist, 101; 251. Ernestus, Duke of Saxe-Gotha (1601-1675), 90.
Couturat, Louis (1868-1914), editor, 169; 6, Ernestus, Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinfels
50, 9 2 , 9 6 , 2 8 7 , 3 8 0 , 4 1 1 , 432. (1623-1693), 46, 67-69, 78, 101, 103, 107,
Crafft, Johann Daniel (d. 1697), Leibnitz’s 108, 136-139; 5 8 , 72, 138, 142, 165 , 275,
friend, 61, 105. 162, 163. 2 7 6 , 2 9 1 , 2 9 4 , 2 9 9 , 3 6 4 , 3 7 3 , 374.
Cromwell, Oliver, 19, 20, 50, 70. Ernestus Augustus, Duke and Elector of
Cumberland, Richard (1631-1718), bishop of Hanover (1629-1698), 3, 31, 33, 75, 90,
Peterborough, natural philosopher, 22. 103, 109, 110; 163, 173.
Cuneau, tutor to Frederick William I of Eschweiler, Karl, 146.
Prussia, 98. Euclid, 25, 55, 56, 86, 89, 93, 118, 149, 158,
Cusanus, Nicolaus (1401-1464), Cardinal, 168; 9 2 , 2 1 3 , 222.
philosopher, 64, 65, 95, 124, 160; 134, Eugène, Prince of Savoy (1663-1736), 4, 31,
336. 120.
Euler, 57.
Davillé, Louis, 105; 266.
della Porta, Giacomo (1541-1608), architect, Fabri, Honoratus, S J. (1607-1688), theo
54. logian and philosopher, 104; 146, 236.
Democritus, 50, 58. Fabricius, Johann (1644-1729), professor at
Descartes, René, see Cartesius. Helmstedt, Abbot of Königslutter, 127.
Dessauer, Fr., 39. Fatio de Dublier, N. (1664-1753), Bâle
Dessoir, Max, 6. mathematician and alchemist, 36.
Diderot, Denis (1713-1784), 6. Feilchenfeld, W., 6 , 1 2 1 , 3 9 8 .
Diemerbroeck, Isbrand van (1609-1674), Feller, J. F. (editor), 169.
Dutch physician, 104. Fénélon, François de Salignae de Lamotte
Dilthey, Wilhelm (1833-1911), German philo (1651-1715), Archbishop of Cambrai,
sopher, 6, 59, 60; 11, 106, 108, 317. writer and moralist, 26, 75; 27.
Dionis, Pierre (Dionysius) (d. Paris 1718), Fermat, Pierre de (1601-1665), French
author of A n a to m ie d e l'h o m m e su iv a n t la mathematician, 17, 54.
circu la tio n d u sang, 237. Ferrand, Louis (1645-1699), Hebraist, 105.
Dippel, Johann Conrad (pseud. Christianus Feuerbach, Ludwig (1804-1872), German
Democritus) (1673-1734), pietist theo philosopher, 250.
logian, 77; 167. Feuerlein, Pastor, 196.
Doeberl, Michael, 135. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb (1762-1814), German
Dürr, Karl, 93. philosopher, 115.
Dutens, L. (editor), 169. Fierz, Markus, 3 8 , 39.
Fischer, Kuno (1824-1907), German his
torian of philosophy, 6 , 4 3 6 , 4 3 7 , 439.
Eberhard, Duke of Württemberg (1614-1674), Fogel, Martin (Vogelius) (1634-1675), physi
156. cist, pupil of Jungius, 105; 2 6 5 .
Eberhard, J. A., 2. Fonseca, Pedro da, S.J. (1528-1599), Por
Echter von Mespelbrunn, Julius, Bishop of tuguese Aristotelean, 69; 145.
Würzburg, founder of the University of Fontenelle, Bernard Le Bovier de (1657-
Würzburg (1573-1617), 135. 1757), author and academician, 142; 57,
Eckhart, J. G. (biographer), 2, 187. 315.
Eckhart, Meister Eckhart (1260-1327), Ger Förster, Johann Christian (biographer and
man mystic, 61, 119. editor), 2.
Edelmann, Johann Christian (1698-1767), Foucher de Careil (editor), 169; 105, 171,
deist, 77. 2 4 9 , 327.
8 *
222 IN D E X
Foucher, Simon de (1644—1696), philosopher, Grotius, Hugo (1583-1645), jurist, 21, 22;
62, 158; 119, 1 2 3 ,3 7 6 ,4 3 4 . 146, 290, 3 9 1 , 392.
Fournier, Raoul (1562-1627), 254. Gryphius, Andreas (1616-1664), German
Fox, George (1624—1690), quaker, 70, 73. poet, 16, 40, 64; 130.
Francis I, King of France (1494-1547), 14, 15, Guericke, Otto .von (1602-1686), burgo
21. master of Magdeburg, physicist, 44, 57,
Francke, August Herrmann (1663-1727), 64, 75, 89, 94, 105; 132.
pietist author, 16, 75, 76, 84, 89, 98; 128, Guhrauer, G. E. (1809-1843), writer, editor
162 , 166, 168. and biographer, 169; 2, 2 9 , 112, 180, 184,
Frank, Gustav, 1. 185, 2 0 9 , 2 1 2 , 2 2 5 , 2 4 3 , 3 3 7 , 4 0 7 , 4 1 0 , 413,
Fransen, P., 3 , 35. 4 3 0 , 431.
Frederick III, Elector of Brandenburg, as Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden (1594-
Frederick I, King of Prussia (1657-1713), 1632), 70.
33, 73, 110. Guyon, Jeanne-Marie Bouvières de la Motte
Frederick II the Great, King of Prussia (1648-1717), French mystic, 75, 77; 167.
(1712-1786), 6, 9, 34, 59, 98; 437.
Frederick Augustus I, Elector of Saxony, as Habbeus von Lichtenstem, Baron Christian
Augustus II, King of Poland (1670-1733), (d. 1680), of German origin, Swedish
58. Ambassador in Hanover, 96, 105; 1 5 6 ,2 6 5 .
Frederick William, the Great Elector of Bran Haendel, George Frederick (1684-1759),
denburg (1620-1688), 29-33. composer, 18, 34, 54.
Frederick William I, King of Prussia (1688— Halley, Edmund (1656-1742), astronomer, 17;
1740), 98. 38.
Friedmann, Georges, 60, 66. Hamann, Johann Georg (1730-1788), Ger
Frohmeyer, L. J., 151. man author, mystic, 157.
Froidmont, Libert (Libertus Fromundus) Hansen, Friedrich Adolf von Ehrenkron
(1587-1653), theologian, 176. (d. 1711), of German origin, Swedish
Fürstenberg, Dietrich Caspar von, 116. Coundllor, 107.
Hartmann, Eduard von (1842-1906), German
Galilei, 20, 32, 42, 43, 49, 50, 53, 54, 57, 114, philosopher, 6.
138. Hartzingk, Peter, 109.
Gallois, l’abbé Jean (1632-1707), royal Harvey, William (1578-1657), physician, 237.
librarian, polyhistor, 109, 163. Hazard, Paul, 32, 4 1 , 54.
Gamans, Johann, S J. (1606-1670), historian, Hegel, Georg Friedrich Wilhelm (1770-1831),
104. German philosopher, 1, 5, 6, 7, 10, 59, 95,
Gassendi, Pierre (1592-1656), natural philo 115, 161; 105.
sopher; Gassendists, 42, 48, 50, 53, 58, 88, Heimsoeth, Heinz, 6, 7; 6, 14, 3 3 6 , 415.
112, 145, 146; 84. van Heiss, 134.
Georg Ludwig, Duke and Elector of Hanover, Helmont, Franciscus Mercurius van, Count
from 1714, as George I, King of England (1614-1699), son of the following inventor,
(1660-1727), 4, 33, 164; /75, 439. 62,63, 77; 128.
Gerhardt, C. J. (editor), 169. Helmont, Jean-Baptiste van (1577-1644),
Geulincx, Arnold (1625-1669), occasionalist chemist and physician, 57, 62, 63, 64.
philosopher, 50-51. Henke, E. L. Th., 183.
Gifftheil, Ludwig Friedrich (d. 1661), pietist, Herbert, Edward Lord, of Cherbury (1583-
73; 160. 1648), philosopher and statesman, 47.
Goethe, 9, 10, 33, 34, 40, 51, 56, 65, 98, 100, Herder, Johann Gottfried (1744-1803), Ger
138, 166; 6, 112, 129, 306. man author and philosopher, 9, 157; 429.
Görland, Albert, 127. Hesenthaler, Magnus (1621-1681), orientalist
Gottsched, Johann Christoph (1700-1766), in Stuttgart, 105.
German poet and critic, 306. Hesse-Rheinfels, Emestus, Duke of, see
Graevius, Jan Georg (1632-1703), philologist, Ernestus.
46, 104. Hilbert, David (1862-1943), mathematician, 6.
Gravel, Jacques, abbé de (French minister in Hildebrandt, Kurt, 6.
Mainz in 1674), 132. Hippocrates, 102.
Gregor XIII, Buoncampagni, Pope (1502— Hippolytus a Lapide (Johann Hiernoymus
1585), 67, 68. Chemnitz) (1605-1678), German legal
Grimaldi, François-Marie, S.J. (1613-1663), scholar, 29; 188.
natural philosopher, 146, 168. Hobbes, 17, 22, 23, 34-37, 40, 45, 50, 63, 71,
Grote, Otto, Baron of (1636-1693), Hano 72, 86, 88, 93, 105, 124, 128, 129, 137, 138,
verian minister, 3, 108, 109. 143, 145, 148, 151; 22, 61, 74, 87, 157, 181,
Grotefend, H. L. (editor), 169; 203. 222, 310, 391.
IN D E X 223
Hoburg, Christian (1607-1675), early German Kara Mustapha, Grand Vizier (d. 1683), 28,
pietist, 74. 31.
Hoffman, E., 83. Keller, Ludwig, 109.
Hofmann, J. E., 2 4 , 8 3 , 86. Kepler, Johannes (1571-1630), astronomer,
Hohenzollem, Princess Louise of, 118. 16, 53, 114, 165; 4 6 %386.
Holten, Albert von (1637-1677), Orientalist Kiefl, F. X., 6, 351.
at Tübingen, 105. Kircher, Athanasius, S.J. (1602-1680), theo
Horace, 111. logian, 104; 146, 261.
Horbius, Johann Heinrich Horb (1645-1695), Kistner, A., 131.
German pietist, 104. Klopp, Onno (editor), 2, 169; 3, 208.
Hömigk, Philipp Wilhelm von, Austrian Kluckhohn, August, 135;
statesman, 139; 375. Knorr von Rosenroth, Baron Christian
Hudde, Jan (1628-1.704), burgomaster of (1636-1689), statesman, mystic, orientalist,
Amsterdam, mathematician and inventor, 63; 128.
93. Kochanskÿ, Adam Adamandus, S.J. (1613—
Huet, Pierre-Daniel, bishop of Avranches 1700), Bohemian mathematician, 104; 146.
(1630-1721), 38, 47, 105, 107; 6 3 , 286. Köhler, Heinrich (1685-1737), 319.
Hugony, 107. Köhler, Walter, 135, 136, 141.
Huisseau, Isaac d’ (c. 1600-1685), French Königsmarck, Count Philipp Christoph von
Reformed preacher and controversialist, 41. (1662-?), 107.
Huizinga, Jan (1872-1945), Dutch historian, Korthold, Christian (editor), 47, 169.
44, 5 7 , 101. Kramer, G., 162.
Hunnius, Aegidius (1550-1603), Lutheran Krüger, Gerhard (editor). 42.
theologian, 185. Kuhlmann, Quirinus (1651-1689), pietist,
Husserl, Edmund (1859-1928), German philo poet, 62, 73, 74; 150, 160.
sopher, 6; 6 , 335. Kunkel (Kunckel), Johannes, physicist, con
Hutter, Leonhard (1563-1616), Lutheran temporary of Leibnitz, 238.
theologian, 85, 86; 185.
Huygens, Christian van (1629-1693), physicist, Labadie, Jean de (1610-1674), pietist, 68, 73,
3, 17, 54, 59, 61, 105, 112, 163; 73, 8 0 , 94. 75; 161.
La Bodinère, Royal tutor, 98.
Ilgen, von, 202.
La Bruyère, Jean de, 27 ; 28.
Innocentius XI, Pope (1611-1689), 172, 173.
Lacroix, P. P. (editor), 147.
Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich (1743-1819), Ger Lambeck, Peter (d. 1680), librarian in Vienna,
man author, 157. 163.
Jagodinski, Kazimir (editor), 3 8 6 , 406. La Mothe Le Vayer, François de (1588-1672),
James II, King of Great Britain (1633-1701), natural philosopher, 48; 55.
29. Lamprecht, J. F. (biographer), 2.
Janet, Eduard (editor), 100, 3 7 6 , 388. Landgrave, see Ernestus of Hesse-Rheinfels
Jansen, Bernhard, author, 5. (1623-1693).
Jansenius (Cornelius Jansen) (1585-1638), Langley, A. G. (translator), 170.
Bishop of Ypres, initiator of Jansenism, Lasser, Hermann Andreas, lawyer, Leibnitz’s
68; 6 8 ,1 4 2 . collaborator on the C o rp u s lu r is , 127, 162;
Jaspers, Karl (1883-), German philosopher, 19. 235, 338.
Johann Friedrich, Duke of Hanover (1625- Latta, R. (translator), 170.
1679), 3, 23, 33, 34, 58, 67, 87, 105-109, Lautensack, Paul (the Elder) (1478-1558),
119, 129, 133, 145, 148, 162, 163; 119, 122, religious zealot, 62; 125.
139, 140, 169, 3 5 3 , 3 6 2 , 3 8 3 , 3 8 7 , 3 8 9 , 406. Lavater, Johann Caspar (1741-1801), Swiss
Joseph I, German Emperor (1678-1711), 31, physiognomist, 157.
33; 173. Leade, Mrs. Jane (1623-1704), mystic, 77.
Jungius, Joachim (1587-1657), naturalist and Le Clerc, Jean (1657-1736), French critic,
mathematician, 56, 60, 105 ; 112 , 265. 32, 46.
Jurieu, Pierre (1637-1713), Huguenot theo Leeuwenhoek, Anthonius van (1632-1732),
logian, 26. Dutch naturalist, microscopist, 55, 106,
Justel, Henri (1620-1693), librarian at St. 121.
James’s Palace, 107; 121. Lehmann, Hugo, 6, 165, 3 8 9 , 390, 393.
Justinianus, 97. Leibnitz, Anna Katherina, the philosopher’s
Juvenal, 151. sister, 182.
Lenclos, Ninon de, 57.
Kabitz, Willy, 85; 6, 178, 185. Leopold I, German Emperor (1640-1705),
Kant, 1, 4, 57, 64, 157, 159, 165, 168; 42, 102, 30-33, 59, 77, 97, 103, 127, 162; 173 , 235,
230, 407. 239.
224 IN D E X
Leopold, Joseph Karl, Duke of Lorraine Mauritius, Erich (1631-1691), legal scholar
(d. 1729), 129, 132. and friend of Leibnitz, 104.
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim (1729-1781), Maximilian I, German Emperor (1459-1519),
German author, 9, 142, 157; 315, 429. 30.
Le Thorei, abbé, Leibnitz’s correspondent, Maximilian I, Elector of Bavaria (1573-1651),
438. 31.
Libertus Fromundus (Libert Froidmont) Mazarin, Cardinal Jule de (1602-1661), 19,
(1587-1653), theologian, 176. 20.
Lichtenberg, Georg Christoph (1742-1799), Meister Eckhart, see Eckhart.
German aphorist, 423. Mélac, Comte de (d. 1709), French general,
Lineker (de Lyncker), Nicolaus Christoph 35.
(1643-1726), Imperial Councillor in Vienna, Melanchthon, Philipp (1497-1560), theologian
162. and humanist, 16, 39, 66, 85, 88.
Lisola, Franz Paul Baron von (1613-1677), Menandros, 40.
diplomat and political writer, 27, 35. Mencke, editor of A c ta E ru d ito ru m , 269.
Locke, John, 3, 22, 23, 32, 36, 41, 47, 56, 75, Mendelssohn, Moses (1729-1786), German
101, 103, 158, 159; 192, 251. Jewish philosopher, 157.
Lohenstein, Daniel Caspar von (1635-1683), Menegatto, François, S.J. (1631-1700), con
Silesian poet, 86. fessor of the Emperor, 36.
Lorraine, Dukes of, see Charles and Leopold Mercator G. (Kremar) (1512-1592), Flemish
Joseph Karl. mathematician and mapmaker, 83.
Lotze, Rudolf Herrmann (1817-1881), Ger Méré, George Brossin, chevalier de (ca. 1610—
man philosopher, 6. 1685), 148.
Louis XIII, King of France (1601-1643), 20. Merkel, F. R. 151.
Louis XIV, King of France (1638-1715), 3, 8, Mersenne, Marin (1588-1648), Minim friar,
9, 16, 21-38, 41, 51, 59, 71, 108, 124, 127, French philosopher and mathematician,
129, 132-136, 139-143, 166; 5 7 , 173, 2 2 3 , 17, 42, 44; 260.
3 5 2 , 357, 361. Merz, J. Wilhelm, friend of Leibnitz, 162.
Louis, le Grand Dauphin (1661-1710), 46, Metternich, Lothar Friedrich von, 352.
105. Milton, 17.
Louis XVIII, King of France (1755-1824), 24. Molanus (Gerhard Walter van der Meulen)
Louise Hollandine, Princess Palatine (1622- (1633-1722), German Lutheran theologian,
1709), second daughter of Frederick V and 77, 78, 108; 173, 183.
Elizabeth Stuart, abbess of Maubuisson, Molière, 40.
77. Molina, Luis, S.J. (1535-1600), Spanish
Lower, Dr. Richard (1631-1691), physiolo theologian, initiator of Molinism, 68, 69;
gist, 237. 144, 145.
Loyola, Ignacio de, St., S.J. (1491-1556), 16, Molineaux, 251.
48, 54, 66, 70. Molinos, Miguel de (1640-1696), Quietist,
Lucretius, 39. 75; 162.
Ludovici, E. G., 2, 134. Moliat, G. (editor), 3 7 0 , 405, 420, 422.
Luise, Princess of Hohenzollern, 118. Montecuccoli, Raimund Count of (1609—
Lullus, Raymundus (Ramon Lull) (Lully) 1680), Imperial General, 133.
(1234-1315), Spanish mystic, 54, 60, 61, Montesquieu, Charles-Secondat, Baron de
92, 96; 127. (1689-1755), 50.
Luther, 21, 48, 66-71, 74, 76, 78, 84, 85; 136, Montmort, Pierre-Rémond de (1678-1719),
141, 157, 159, 185, 186. mathematician, 73, 8 0 , 192. 251, 285, 290,
2 9 4 , 2 9 8 , 3 9 9 , 4 1 1 , 4 2 7 , 428.
Mahnke, Dietrich, 6; 6, 12, 13, 83, 86, 94, More, Henry (1614-1687), Cambridge Pla-
2 3 0 , 231, 287, 305, 396, 4 0 7 -4 0 9 , 412, 440. tonist, 62, 64, 147; 120, 121, 128, 396,
Malebranche, Nicolas (1638-1715), Ora- 398.
torian, philosopher, 17, 40, 46, 48-51, 56, More, L. T., 39.
103, 112; 69, 87. More, Sir Thomas (1478-1535), 61; 114.
Malherbes, François de (1555-1628), poet, Morell, Andreas (1646-1703), numismatist
352. and mystic, 125, 2 1 6 , 412.
Malpighi, Marcello (1628-1694), Italian ana Morris, M., 170.
tomist, 55. Münch, Jakob, secretary to Christine,
Mansvelt, Reynier van (1639-1671), pro Baroness of Boineburg, 97; 242.
fessor of philosophy at Utrecht, anti- Muratori, Lodovico Antonio (1672-1750),
Spinozist, 47. Italian librarian and historian, 30.
Mariotte, Edmund (ca. 1620-1684), French Musäus, professor in Kiel, 389.
physicist, 113; 289. Mustapha, see Kara Mustapha, Grand Vizier.
IN D E X 225
Napoléon, 33; 362. Philipp Wilhelm of Neuburg, Count Palatine,

Natali, G., 32. 3.
Neumann, Johann Balthasar (1687-1753), Philippina Charlotte, Duchess of Brunswick-
architect, 40. Wolffenbüttel (1716-1801), 34, 110.
Newton, 16,17, 32, 36, 38, 52, 54, 58, 59, 103; Pietsch, P. (editor), 3 7 , 203.
3 8 ,3 9 ,5 7 ,8 5 ,8 6 ,1 2 0 . Pius V, Pope, St. (1504-1572), 67, 68.
Nicaise, Claude (1623-1701), canon at Dijon, Placcius, Vincent (1642-1699), German mor
antiquarian, 107. alist and jurist, 105, 113, 169.
Nicolai, Friedrich (1733-1811), German Planck, Max (1858-1947), German physicist,
writer, 157. 89.
Nicole, Pierre (1625-1695), moralist, theo Plato, Platonism, Platonists, Cambridge Pla-
logian, 68. tonists, 25, 48, 51, 59, 61, 62, 88, 92, 112,
Ninon de Lenclos, 57. 120, 137, 144, 147, 153; 75, 8 1 , 119, 123,
Nizolius (Mario Nizollio) (1498-1566), Italian 1 9 8 , 1 9 9 , 3 9 4 , 3 9 6 , 401.
natural philosopher, 3, 90; <5, 206. Plautus, 40.
Noyelles, S.J., General of the Society of Plotinus, Neoplatonism, 62, 64, 149, 150;
Jesus, 172. 121.
Poiret, Pierre (1646-1719), protestant mystic,
Oldenburg, Henry (1615-1677), first secretary 68, 73, 74, 75; 1 2 5 ,1 2 8 , 4 2 1 .
of the Royal Society, 62, 104, 105; 3 8 ,1 2 8 . Pomponazzi, Pietro (1462-1526), Renais
Oliva, Juan Pablo, S.J. (1600-1681), General sance philosopher and physician, 39, 46.
of the Society of Jesus, 138. Pomponne, Simon Amauld, Marquis de
Olivarez, Gaspar Guzman, Conde-Duque (1618-1699), French minister, 134, 135.
(1587-1645), 19. Porphyry, 85.
Olliver, Paris mechanic, 107. Prenant, L. (editor), 2 8 3 , 433.
Osiander, 389. Proclus, 92.
Oxenstjerna, Axel Count of (1583-1654), Puffendorff, Samuel Baron of (pseud. Mo-
Swedish Chancellor, 19, 127. zambano) (1632-1694), German political
and legal author, 22, 29, 31, 105, 107;
Pachtler, Fr. G. M., S.J., 146. 1 8 8 , 197.
Paracelsus, Theophrastus (1493-1541), al Pythagoras, 88.
chemist, 63.
Parmenides, 118. Quintilian, 85.
Pascal, 13, 42, 44, 45-49, 57, 62, 68, 75, 141,
148, 151, 159; 5 3 , 6 8 , 71, 73, 9 4 , 9 9 , 118, Racine, 18, 46.
2 4 6 , 3 3 1 , 389. Ranke, Leopold von (1795-1886), German
Paul, St., 140; 141. historian, 32.
Paul V, Pope (1551-1621), 69. Raspe, E. (editor), 101, 169.
Pecquet, Jean, 237. Rassow, Peter, 20.
Pelagians, 81. Ratichius (Wolfgang Radtke or Ratke)
Pellisson-Fontanier, Paul (1624-1693), his (1571-1635), German educationalist, 89.
torian of the French Academy, 41, 77, 103, Ravier, Emil, bibliographer, 170; 7.
107, 108; 171, 173. Regius, Henricus, 4 7 ,1 1 3 .
Penn, William (1644-1718), quaker and Reimarus, Hermann Samuel (1694-1768),
founder of Pennsylvania, 70. German popular philosopher, 157.
Perizonius, Jacobus (1651-1715), Professor Reimmann, Jakob Friedrich (1668-1743),
at Leyden, 38. German historian of literature, 195.
Pertz, C. H. (editor), 2, 6, 169. Rémond de Montmort, see Montmort, Pierre
Petavius, 290. Rémond de.
Peter the Great, Czar of Russia (1672-1725), Rémond, Nicolas, French Platonist and
4, 33, 42, 70, 102, 110, 163; 1 6 8 ,1 7 3 . Leibnitz’s correspondent, 107, 120.
Petersen, Johann Wilhelm (1649-1727), Ger Retz, Jean-François-Paul de Gondi, Cardinal
man Lutheran theologian, mystic, poet, 127. de Retz (1614-1678), French historian and
Petersen, Peter, 6 ,1 3 5 . autobiographer, 20.
Petty, Sir William (1623-1687), political Reynier van Mansveldt, see Mansveldt.
economist, 24. Rhenius, Johannes (1574-1639), logician and
Peuckert, W. E., 160. author, 85; 179.
Pfleiderer, Edmund (1842-1902), German Richelieu, 19, 20, 44, 50, 59, 66, 143; 33.
philosopher, 5; 3. Richter, G. Th., 135.
Philip, King of Macedonia, 120. Ritter, Heinrich (1791-1896), German his
Philipp, Christian (d. 1682), Saxon minister torian of philosophy, 5, 8, 93.
in Hamburg, 107; 210, 213. Ritter, Paul (editor), 169; 3 5 2 , 3 6 2 , 439.
226 IN D E X
Roanez, Duc de, friend and editor of Pascal, Sophia, Samoderjec (1657-1704), regent of
62; 1 1 8 . Russia, 160.
Roberval, Gilles Personier de (1602-1675), Sophia Charlotte, first Queen of Prussia
French philosopher and mathematician, 57, (1668-1705), 4, 34, 63, 77, 109, 120, 157,
76, 163. 163, 168; 103, 3 9 4 , 437.
Rommel, Carl von (editor), 169. Sophia Dorothea, second Queen of Prussia
Rorarius, Fr. Hieronymus, Papal Nuncio, (1687-1757); 34.
121 ; 3 2 2 , 403. (Article by Bayle.) Sorbière, Samuel (1615-1670), French philo
Rosamunde, Juliane von Asseburg (1672- sopher, 55.
after 1708), German mystic, 62. Spener, Philipp Jakob (1635-1705), founder
Rouhalt, Jacques (1620-1675), physicist, 17. of pietism, 3, 16, 70, 75, 76, 98, 104, 128,
Ruck, E., 363. 145-147; 128, 1 6 5 ,2 5 9 , 3 8 9 -3 9 2 .
Russell, Bertrand, 6. Spiess, Ed., 197, 198.
Russell, C. W. (translator), 170. Spinola, Cristofero Rojas de (1626-1695),
Rutherford, Lord (1871-1937), 58. Franciscan theologian, bishop of Wiener
Neustadt, 77, 78, 162; 1 1 9 , 171 , 173.
Sallust, 90. Spinoza, 3, 6, 17, 22, 34, 40, 45^17, 55, 63,
Sauveur, Joseph (1653-1716), French physi 72, 93, 105. 106, 118, 160, 165; 6, 5 9 , 60,
cist and mathematician, 17. 65, 113, 135 , 2 5 9 , 270, 271, 391, 392,
Scaliger, Joseph-Justus (1540-1609), philo 441.
logist, 192. Spitzelius, Theophil (Gottlieb Spitzel) (1639—
Scheidt, C. L. (editor), 282. 1691), Lutheran pastor and polyhistor, 47,
Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm (1775-1854), 104.
German philosopher, 10, 168; 441. Stahl, Georg Ernst (1660-1734), German
Scherzer, Adam (1628-1683), protestant theo chemist and physician, 17, 54; 238.
logian, 88. Stein, Ludwig (d. 1930), German historian
Schick, Peter, 105. of philosophy, 6, 6 5 , 123, 2 5 9 , 2 7 1 , 392,
Schlüter, Andreas (1664-1714), German archi 393.
tect and sculptor, 40. Steno, Nicholas (Niels Stensen) (1638-1687),
Schmalenbach, Hermann, 4, 7; 4 , /5, /55, Danish anatomist, physician, geologist,
155. 106; 271.
Schmid-Kowarczik, W. (editor), 201. Strowsky, Fortunat, 57.
Scholz, Heinrich, 93. Strutz, A., 130.
Schönbom, Johann Philipp von, Archbishop Suarez, Francisco, S.J. (1548-1617), philo
and Elector of Mainz (1605-1673), 3, 29, sopher and theologian, 66-69; 135, 146.
90, 97, 119, 127-135; 214. Swammerdam, Jan (1637-1685), Dutch ento
Schönbom, Melchior Friedrich von, Count mologist and anatomist, 55, 106.
of (1644-1717), 97.
Schrader, F. (correspondent), 283. Tacitus, 90.
Schrecker, P. (editor), 170. Tamburini, S.J., General of the Society of
Schuller, Georg Hermann, editor of Spinoza, Jesus, 146.
105, 106; 270. Tawney, R. H., 2 1 , 152.
Schütz, Heinrich (Sagittarius) (1585-1672), Temple, Sir William (1628-1699), statesman
German composer, 40. and author, 46.
Seckenburg, Veit Ludwig von, 118, 435. Tenzel, 29.
Seeberg, Erich, 160. Terence 40
Selver, David, 6. Teresa da Jesù, St. (1515-1582), 125, 321.
Semipelagians, 81. Tersteegen, Gerhard (1697-1769), German
Semler, Christoph (1669-1740), German mystic and poet, 167.
educationalist, 89, 98. Tholuck, Friedrich August (1799-1877), Ger
Sennert, Daniel (1572-1637), German philo man mystic and poet 196. 200.
sopher, 50. Thomas Aquinas, St. (1225-1274), 39, 42, 48,
Sextus Empiricus, 55. 51,68,69,88, 160; 6 , 8 4 , 4 1 4 .
Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley Cooper, third Thomasius, Christian (1655-1728), German
Earl of Shaftesbury (1671-1713), English jurist, son of the following, 22, 30, 75; 31.
philosopher, 39. Thomasius, Jakob (d. 1684), teacher of
Sickel, Paul, 6. philosophy, father of above, 2, 46, 86, 88,
Siegel, C., 6. 104, 165; 6 1 , 113, 194, 264, 378.
Simon, Richard (1638-1712), French Heb Thomassin, 290.
raist, 45. Tillmann, B., 6.
Sophia,' Electress of Hanover (1630-1714), Toland, John (1670-1722), English deist, 32,
34,63,70, 112; 1 2 7 ,4 3 7 . 39, 46,-77, 83; 4 L
IN D E X 227
Tönnies, Ferdinand (1855-1936), German Wallis, John (1616-1703), mathematician,

sociologist, 391. 17; 8 3 .
Tramer, Moritz, 86. Weber, Max (1864-1920), German philoso
Troeltsch, Emst (1865-1923), German theo pher and sociologist, 152.
logian and historian, 6, 152, 153. Wedderkopf, Magnus (von) (1638-1721),
Tschimhaus(en), Ehrenfried Walter, Count German jurist and statesman, 105; 383.
of (1651-1708), German naturalist and Weigel, Erhard (1625-1699), German mathe
mathematician, 41, 47, 105, 106; 78, 268, matician and educationalist, 2, 57, 61, 64,
2 6 9 , 270. 75, 85, 88-92, 149, 165; 117, 118 , 1 9 7 , 201,
Turenne, Henri Latour d’Auvergne, Vicomte 2 1 0 , 2 1 3 , 408.
de (1611-1675), Maréchal de France, 20. Weigel, Valentin (1533-1588), German mys
Tycho de Brahe, 46. tic, 25, 62, 66, 73, 74; 1 2 5 ,1 3 4 .
Weizsäcker, Viktor von, 3 7 7 .
Ulrich, J. H. F. (editor), 169. Wilhelmine Amalia, wife of Emperor Joseph I,
163.
Valéry, Paul, 121. William III, King of Great Britain (1650-
Valla, Laurentius, 186. 1702), 32, 33, 59, 70, 77; 3 5 , 151.
Vanini, Lucilio (Julius Caesar) (1584-1619), Winckler, Pastor, 173.
Italian popular philosopher, 39, 48. Windelband, Wilhelm (1848-1915), German
Varignon, 8 9 . philosopher and historian of philosophy,
Velthuysen, Lambert van, Leibnitz’s corres 6; 9.
pondent, 115. Witt, Jan de (1625-1672), Grand Pensionary
Vieta (Viète), François (1540-1603), French of Holland, 22, 29, 93.
advocate and mathematician, 56; 8 7 , 88. Wolff, Christian (1679-1754), German philo
Vignola, Giacomo Barozzi da (1507-1573), sopher of Enlightenment, 1, 9, 76, 101,
Italian architect, 54. 157, 165; 166.
Vives, 192. Wren, Sir Christopher (1632-1723), English
Voetius (Voet), Gisbert (1588-1676), Dutch architect, 40, 105.
theologian, 44; 47. Wundt, Wilhelm (1832-1920), German philo
Voltaire, 6. sopher and anthropologist, 6; 1 0 , 79.
Wagner, Gabriel (c. 1665-c. 1715), writer and Zimmermann, F., Austrian writer, 336.
editor, Leibnitz’s correspondent, 111; 90. Zinzendorf, Nikolaus Ludwig, Count of
Wallenstein, Albrecht Wenzel Eusebius von (1700-1760), German pietist, 167.
Waldstein, Duke of Friedland (1583-1634), Zoroaster, 151.
Imperial generalissimo, 19, 20.

Rudolf Walter Meyer - Leibnitz and The Seventeenth-Century Revolution (Leibniz Und Die Europäische Ordnungskrise, Hamburg, 1948) - Bowes and Bowes (1952)

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Rudolf Walter Meyer - Leibnitz and The Seventeenth-Century Revolution (Leibniz Und Die Europäische Ordnungskrise, Hamburg, 1948) - Bowes and Bowes (1952)

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LEIBNITZ AND THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY REVOLUTION

B OWE S & B OWE S

Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgozc

A. THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY CONTROVERSY 11

L The Controversy in General 13

B. LEIBNITZ’S CHOSEN TASK 79

C. FREEDOM AND THE PREDICAMENT OF MAN 155

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 169

To give an account of the personality and thought of Leibnitz is a difficult

THE CONTROVERSY IN GENERAL

FROM THE FRO N D E TO ABSOLUTISM

THE CARTESIAN REVOLUTION

Leibnitz himself wrote to the Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinfels in 1682:

None of these free-thinkers conformed to a clearly defined doctrine. And

In 1712 the Dutchman Ruardus Andala attempted to prove that Leibnitz

In these lines is contained the whole programme of the future theodicy;

THE CRISIS IN THE CHRISTIAN TRADITION

It is just this ‘ prudence à proportion ’ (derived from the Calvinist concept of

LEIBNITZ’S CHOSEN TASK

THE CULTURAL CRISIS AND ITS SOLUTION

This complacent autobiographical reflection is re-formulated eight years later

Leibnitz’s Academy, we see, was to be founded upon reality as presented by

Having the continuation of the contemporary conversation and the estab­

THE IMAGE OF INDIVIDUAL SUBSTANCE

The traditional meaning of being—of natural as well as of human being—

Or again, in his early political pamphlet Securitas Publica :

This description of 4dynamic happiness ’ has much in common with a leading

Leibnitz’s real aim in this controversy with Arnauld is to establish a proof

SEC U RITAS PUBLICA o r THE ALLIANCE OF

And he continues by turning to the problem of the sovereign’s self-consciousness,

The last sentence shows that Leibnitz considered a uniform distribution of

There followed anxious reflections on strategic problems, and Leibnitz grew

What is needed to avert a fully deserved fate is an extraordinary effort and a

CHRISTIAN FAITH A N D FAITH IN SCIENCE

In both these passages Leibnitz attempts to mediate between the Scholastics

In this all-important plan for a ‘ calculus characteristicus ’ both 4 consideratio ’

These thoughts (derived largely from contemporary mysticism)409 can be

The republic of spirits is a moral and metaphysical commonwealth of personal

But Leibnitz’s image of a personal theos geometres contains a contradiction

The future task of philosophy is to write 4 a New Testament . . . of the

The whole as a community contains *something notional ’, it is not a mere

‘ Q ui m e non n is i e d itis n o v it— n o n n o v it * (Leibnitz in a letter to Plaecius, 21.2.1696.)

18 Cf. E rm a h n u n g an d ie T eu tsch en . . . In: K lo p p , vol. VI, p. 187.

174 Cf. E rm a h n u n g an d ie T e u tsc h e n , ih ren V e rsta n d u n d S p ra c h e b e sse r z u ü b en , s a m m t b e y g e fü g te n

175 Cf. D isc o u rs d e M é ta p h y siq u e , § 14: ‘ C a r D ie u to u r n a n t p o u r a in si d ire d e to u s c o sté s e t d e

246 Cf. Pascal: P en sées, § 182: 4 C a r enfin q u ’e st-c e q u e Vh o m m e da n s la N a tu r e ? U n n é a n t à l'é g a rd

295 Cf. letter to Amauld, 30.4.1687: ‘ P o u r tra n c h e r c o u rt j e tie n s p o u r un a x io m e c e tte p r o p o s itio n

400 Cf. M o n a d o lo g y §§ 38, 40, 43, 47, 85.

Adam, Charles, 43. Baillet, 47.

Napoléon, 33; 362. Philipp Wilhelm of Neuburg, Count Palatine,

Tönnies, Ferdinand (1855-1936), German Wallis, John (1616-1703), mathematician,

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Having the continuation of the contemporary conversation and the estab