The Value of the World and of Oneself.

Philosophical Optimism and Pessimism

from Aristotle to Modernity Mor Segev
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The Value of the World and of Oneself
 The Value of the World and of
Oneself
Philosophical Optimism and Pessimism from Aristotle
to Modernity
MOR SEGEV
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Segev, Mor, author.
Title: The value of the world and of oneself : philosophical optimism
and pessimism from Aristotle to Modernity/ Mor Segev.
Description: New York, NY, United States of America : Oxford University Press, [2022] |
Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022000740 (print) | LCCN 2022000741 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780197634073 (hb) | ISBN 9780197634097 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Optimism. | Pessimism. | Philosophy.
Classification: LCC B829 .S425 2022 (print) | LCC B829 (ebook) |
DDC 149/.5—dc23/eng/20220203
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022000740
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022000741
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197634073.001.0001
To the memory of Martha Leonhardt, née Löwenberg
(1902–1943).
 Contents

Acknowledgments
Abbreviations

Introduction
1. Schopenhauer’s Critique of the Optimism of the Hebrew Bible
and Spinoza
2. Self-Abnegation and Its Reversion to Optimism: Schopenhauer
3. Nihilism and Self-Deification: Camus’s Critical Analysis of
Nietzsche in The Rebel
4. Aristotle’s Critique of Ancient Pessimism
5. Optimism and Self-Devaluation #1: Aristotle
6. Optimism and Self-Devaluation #2: Maimonides on Aristotle and
the Hebrew Bible
7. An Aristotelian Response to Schopenhauer’s Challenge to
Optimism

References
Index
 Acknowledgments

This book is a product of years of thinking about and comparing the

philosophical views of Aristotle, Maimonides, Spinoza, Nietzsche,
Schopenhauer, and Camus. Between 2016 and 2021, parts of this
project were presented in Jerusalem, Oxford, Krakow, Tampa,
Newcastle, Milwaukee, and Budapest, and I am thankful to my
audiences on these occasions for many helpful comments and
suggestions. My ideas took shape over the years with the help of
feedback from and conversations with many individuals, including
Audrey Anton, Hanoch Ben-Yami, Anastasia Berg, István Bodnár,
Robert Bolton, Katarzyna Borkowska, Abraham Bos, Ursula Coope,
John Cooper, John Cottingham, Kati Farkas, Maciej Kałuża, Andrea
Kern, Philipp Koralus, Iddo Landau, Oksana Maksymchuk, Yitzhak
Melamed, Angela Mendelovici, Alexander Nehamas, Sarah Nooter,
Ács Pál, Michael Peramatzis, Max Rosochinsky, Anna Schriefl,
Christiane Tewinkel, Andrea Timár, David Weberman, Robert Wicks,
Jessica Williams, and Eric Winsberg.
I am grateful to the Hardt Foundation for the Study of Classical
Antiquity for granting me the Research Scholarship for Young
Researchers in 2018, to the Institute for Advanced Study at the
Central European University for granting me a fellowship in 2020,
which enabled me to complete most of this book and to present and
discuss it with colleagues from a variety of fields, to St. Catherine’s
College, Oxford, for hosting me as a Visiting Fellow in 2021, and to
the Faculty of Philosophy at Oxford University for allowing me to
present the project at the Workshop in Ancient Philosophy during my
stay. Thanks are also due to Lucy Randall, Hannah Doyle, Sean
Decker, and Leslie Johnson at Oxford University Press, to my
anonymous referees for their helpful comments and suggestions,
and to Nandhini Thanga Alugu and Dorothy Bauhoff for their
assistance with the production of the book.
Chapter 1 is based on my chapter “Schopenhauer on Spinoza’s
Pantheism, Optimism, and Egoism,” in Y. Y. Melamed (ed.), A
Companion to Spinoza (Hoboken, NJ, 2021), 557–67. Chapter 4 is
based in part on my “Death, Immortality and the Value of Human
Existence in Aristotle’s Eudemus Fr. 6, Ross,” Classical Philology
(forthcoming). Parts of Chapters 5 and 6 are based on my “Aristotle
on the Proper Attitude Toward Divinity,” American Catholic
Philosophical Quarterly (2020). I would like to thank the publishers
for allowing me to make use of these materials.
 Abbreviations

The following are the abbreviations used for the titles of the works
by the main authors discussed in this book.

Works by Aristotle:
Cael. De caelo
DA De anima
De phil. De philosophia
Div. De divinatione per somnum
EE Eudemian Ethics
GA Generation of Animals
GC Generation and Corruption
HA History of Animals
IA Progression of Animals
Metaph. Metaphysics
Meteor. Meteorology
MM Magna Moralia
NE Nicomachean Ethics
PA Parts of Animals
Poet. Poetics
Pol. Politics
Protr. Protrepticus
Rh. Rhetoric
Top. Topics

Works by Maimonides:
EC Eight Chapters
GP The Guide of the Perplexed
MT Mishneh Torah
HD Hilchot Deot (in MT )

Works by Spinoza:
E Ethics
TTP Tractatus Theologico-Politicus

Works by Schopenhauer:
MR Manuscript Remains
PP Parerga and Paralipomena
FHP Fragments for the History of Philosophy (in PP)
WWR The World as Will and Representation

Works by Nietzsche:
BGE Beyond Good and Evil
BT The Birth of Tragedy
BVN Briefe von Nietzsche (Nietzsche’s letters)
EH Ecce Homo
GM The Genealogy of Morals
GS The Gay Science
HH Human, all too Human
NCW Nietzsche contra Wagner
NF Nachgelassene Fragmente (Posthumous fragments)
Z Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Works by Camus:
F The Fall
MS The Myth of Sisyphus
R The Rebel
 Introduction

In evaluating the world and one’s life within it, two positions,
diametrically opposed to one another, have often been taken by
prominent figures in the history of philosophy. The view traditionally
referred to as philosophical optimism may be encapsulated by the
two following propositions:

O1: The world is optimally arranged and is accordingly valuable.

O2: As part of the world, human life is valuable enough to make
one’s own existence preferable over one’s nonexistence.

Philosophical pessimists, by contrast, maintain the following:

P1: The world is in a woeful condition and is ultimately

valueless.1
P2: Our nonexistence in the world is, or would have been,
preferable over our existence.

The commitment to either of these two corresponding pairs of

propositions—regarding the value of the world and the value of
human life—appears again and again in traditional formulations and
characterizations of philosophical optimism and pessimism. Arthur
Schopenhauer, reacting to optimism, characterizes it as a view
countenancing that “the world is what is best” (WWR II.L: 644), and
that “our existence [is] to be gratefully acknowledged as the gift of
the highest goodness guided by wisdom” and is thus “in itself
praiseworthy, commendable, and delightful” (WWR II.XLV: 570).2
Implied in this description is the idea that the world is valuable, and
is ordered rationally and optimally (O1), and that it is these features
that ground the preferability of one’s own existence as a part of that
good whole (O2). Schopenhauer goes on to characterize (without,
however, naming) pessimism as the view according to which “this
[human] existence is a kind of false step or wrong path” and “is the
work of an originally blind will, the luckiest development of which is
that it comes to itself in order to abolish itself” (WWR II.XLV: 570).
Disregarding the details of the metaphysical theory underlying this
statement (to which we shall return later), the general point of
contrast between this view and the optimism that Schopenhauer
objects to is that pessimism rejects the existence of an ultimately
valuable, rationally ordered world, and with it the prospects of
viewing human existence as valuable, worthwhile, or otherwise
choice-worthy. Indeed, Schopenhauer claims, approvingly, that in the
Gospels “world and evil are used almost as synonymous
expressions” (WWR I, §59: 326). He also explicitly speaks of the
“wretched condition of the world” (die jammervolle Beschaffenheit
der Welt), associating it with pessimism (WWR II.XLVIII: 621), and
repeatedly attributes “vanity” (Nichtigkeit) and “valuelessness”
(Werthlosigkeit) to all things (P1),3 which he thinks expresses itself
in the suffering of all that lives (I, §68: 397), and which in turn for
him implies that “complete nonexistence would be decidedly
preferable to” human life (I, §59: 324) (P2).
This understanding of philosophical optimism and pessimism is
still quite standard. The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy, for
example, describes as “the starkest expression of pessimism” the
claim made by the chorus in Sophocles’s Oedipus at Colonus that it
is best not to be born and second best to die as soon as possible (cf.
OC 1224–7) (P2), and associates optimism with, e.g., Aristotelian
philosophy and its “sense of the harmony of nature and the
attainability of ends,” implying, similarly to optimism as we have just
seen Schopenhauer presents it, that the rational ordering of the
world makes both the world itself and one’s existence within it
valuable and their existence worthwhile (O1–O2).4 However, several
other ideas are often associated, and sometimes conflated, with
these two views. Discussions of optimism and pessimism often refer,
respectively, to the ideas that progress is possible or impossible, that
this world is the best or worst one possible,5 and that there is more
good in the world than evil or vice versa.6 For the sake of
terminological clarity, let us distinguish these different ideas from
optimism and pessimism as we have defined them and as they will
be discussed in the rest of this book.7
It is natural enough to associate a view locating value in the
world with the idea that progress is possible or even forthcoming.
But an optimist may well hold the view that progress is unnecessary,
or even impossible, because the world is already perfectly good in its
current condition. By the same token, a pessimist may concede the
possibility of various kinds of progress—say, in the distribution of
resources and the enactment of human rights—while maintaining
that even at their peak, it would be better if human beings and the
world at large had not existed.8 Similarly, although one would
generally expect an optimist to adhere to the Leibnizian idea that
ours is the best of all possible worlds, committing oneself to that
idea is not enough to count as an optimist. Pessimists may
consistently adhere to that same conception of the world, while
arguing that even the best possible world is not good enough to
justify its existence.9 As James Branch Cabell puts it in The Silver
Stallion: “The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all
possible worlds; and the pessimist fears this is true.”10 Furthermore,
both a consistently optimistic view and a consistently pessimistic one
may hold that this world is both the best and worst one possible, if
they maintain in addition that this world is the only one possible.11
Finally, thinking that the world on balance contains more good than
bad is insufficient for motivating an optimistic position, since the
world in that case may still contain enough evil pertaining to the
human species, e.g., so as to make it preferable for humans not to
exist. Sophocles’s dictum—that it is best not to be born and second
best to die quickly—is clearly not meant to apply to the gods, who
are of course repeatedly appealed to throughout the play, and the
worth of whose life is left unchallenged, and this fact nevertheless
does not detract from the pessimistic tone of that dictum. And,
conversely, one may think that evil predominates in the world and
still reject the pessimistic conclusion that a human life is not worth
having.
 Though the terms “optimism” and “pessimism” are fairly recent,12
their basic tenets date back to the earliest stages of recorded
philosophical discussion, and understandably so, given the basic
questions that they address and their relevance to evaluating one’s
environment and one’s own existence. It is sometimes argued that
tracing optimistic and pessimistic views to pre-modern philosophy is
anachronistic. Joshua Foa Dienstag, for instance, claims that
“pessimism is a modern phenomenon” since, “[l]ike optimism,
pessimism relies on an underlying linear concept of time, a concept
that only became a force in Western thinking in the early modern
period,” with ancient thought being dominated by a “cyclical”
conception of time.13 We need not assess Dienstag’s view of the
gradual change in conceptions of time. It suffices for our purposes to
note that optimism and pessimism, as we have defined them, apply
on either conception. As we have noted, both optimism and
pessimism may be consistently adhered to whether or not one even
takes a stance on the possibility or likelihood of historical progress.
Given the definitions we have offered, we seem warranted to look
for optimistic and pessimistic views in any period and culture in
which one could ask—as one clearly already did ask in, say, ancient
Israel and classical Greece—whether the world is perfectly ordered
and good, and whether human life is worth living.
In this book we shall compare the views of several philosophers
who did ask themselves just these questions and have answered
them by constructing views that can appropriately be described as
either optimistic or pessimistic, in entirely different intellectual
environments and historical periods ranging from classical Greece to
twentieth-century France. It would not be feasible, and there shall
be no attempt, to provide a comprehensive survey of relevant views
during that time frame. Instead, we shall focus on representative
cases—Aristotle, Maimonides, Spinoza, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche,
and Camus—which lend themselves particularly well to mutual
comparison, especially since some of them engage with the others’
views explicitly. Maimonides consciously and openly adopts and
develops major parts of Aristotle’s views concerning the value of the
world and of human existence. Schopenhauer engages with Spinoza
and criticizes his view, which he associates with the optimism that he
finds in the Hebrew Bible. Nietzsche criticizes Schopenhauer’s
pessimism, and Camus in turn criticizes Nietzsche and his attempt at
transcending both optimism and pessimism. Of course, by creating a
dialogue between themselves and their predecessors on these
issues, the philosophers in question could have themselves been
guilty of anachronism to some degree. Even if so, it arguably would
still be worthwhile to examine their understanding and use of
previous views, e.g., in order to analyze the chain of influence
leading to modern theories on relevant issues.14 But I hope to show
that, as I have already argued so far, comparing the views of all of
these philosophers on the issues focused on in this book is both
instructive and appropriate.
Even on the assumption that ancient, medieval, and modern
optimistic and pessimistic views may be safely compared, questions
may nevertheless arise concerning the potential import of such a
comparison. To begin with, it is sometimes suggested that optimism
is a puerile position, upheld unrealistically and irrationally by those
who have not been properly exposed to the evils of the world, and
rejected and supplanted by those who have. Discussing ancient
Hebrew optimism, one scholar writes:15

Unclouded skies and perfect happiness are conditions of innocent childhood.

But as the child grows older, clouds appear in the skies and happiness
becomes less and less perfect. Thus while the ancient Hebrews during many
centuries seemed wholly satisfied with the affairs of life, never doubting for
one moment that JHVH had ordered everything for the best, the time came
when they began to ask the why and wherefore of many happenings.

Similarly, as we shall see in Chapter 1, Schopenhauer criticizes

optimism (in its monotheistic and pantheistic varieties), among other
things, for its naïveté, and for failing to account for the suffering and
misfortune prevalent in the world, having instead to blindly assert
that all phenomena are manifestations of the world’s perfection, and
hence that all human and even animal behavior, e.g., is “equally
divine and excellent” (WWR II.XLVII: 590). Perhaps, then, optimistic
views, as such, are too naïve to merit serious consideration?
However, optimism, as we have defined it, need not be naïve in this
way. For one may posit that the world is optimally arranged and is
perfectly valuable without conceding that each and every one of its
parts is equally valuable.
Indeed, as we shall see in Chapters 5 and 6, both Aristotle and
Maimonides offer a complex optimistic theory, on which the world,
though perfectly arranged and valuable (O1), contains an axiological
hierarchy pertaining to its various parts. Since humans are placed
relatively low on that hierarchy, the world’s perfection and absolute
value are not compromised by the imperfections pertaining to and
the pain undergone by them. But, given the world’s perfection, the
existence of such creatures, flawed though they are, is preferable to
their nonexistence (O2). This version of optimism presents a viable
alternative to pessimistic approaches. This is especially true because,
as we shall see in Chapters 2 and 3, both the most influential
modern pessimistic position (by Schopenhauer) and an influential
attempt to do away with both optimism and pessimism (by
Nietzsche) have been criticized for ultimately reverting to optimism,
and hence for being fundamentally inconsistent. This fact raises the
question as to whether “pure” pessimism, or a complete rejection of
optimism, is possible in principle. And, if it is not, then it seems that
conscious and explicit optimism could prove a viable alternative.
As a second consideration, one might argue that the debate
between optimism and pessimism is really a debate over the
existence of a perfect deity. As we shall see in Chapter 3, this is
precisely what Nietzsche does argue (cf. HH I.28). But, if that is the
case, then one might be inclined to bracket the debate between
optimism and pessimism as a theological controversy, and hence as
potentially irrelevant for those who wish to evaluate the world and
human life without recourse to the question of God’s existence.
Indeed, all of the views discussed in this book do engage with the
existence and nature of divinity and with religion, either supportively
or critically. Schopenhauer responds to optimism primarily in its
monotheistic and pantheistic varieties, and he links his own
pessimistic view to Christianity and Buddhism. Nietzsche, while
himself associating both optimism and pessimism with a theological
framework and criticizing both on that account, is himself later
criticized by Camus, ironically, for “deifying” the world and
envisaging a divine human being in the form of an Übermensch. In
turn, Aristotle’s view of the magnanimous person, and Maimonides’s
corresponding notion of the “righteous person” (hassid), are both
informed by the attitude such a person would have toward divinity.
And the world’s perfection, for both thinkers, is a function of its
divinity or its relation to the divine. It is therefore not surprising that
the traditional debate between optimism and pessimism also
reserves a special place (e.g., in Maimonides’s and Schopenhauer’s
works, as we shall see in Chapter 2 and Chapters 6–7) for an
engagement with the classical “problem of evil,” challenging the
existence of a benevolent and omnipotent deity in the light of the
suffering and imperfections contained in the world.
However, though the issues dealt with by philosophical optimism
and pessimism intersect with discussions in theology and the
philosophy of religion, they do not clearly depend on those domains
of inquiry. An optimally ordered world, in principle, may be so
without either having been created by a deity or being identified
with one. And the existence of a given species within such a world
could arguably also be worthwhile regardless of any relation to a
deity. Thus, a pessimistic response to optimism need not attack the
conception of divinity underlying it, and indeed would be potentially
incomplete if it addressed only that conception. Similarly, the
classical problem of evil admits of variations, and ones which need
not appeal to the existence of God. Schopenhauer, as we shall see in
Chapter 1, thinks that this problem confronts Spinozistic pantheism—
which does not countenance the existence of a benevolent and
omnipotent God—because the world as God must on pantheism
make the existence of suffering impossible. By the same token, a
non-theistic and non-pantheistic optimistic view could also be
confronted with a version of the problem of evil, appropriately
modified: How could a perfectly ordered and positively valuable
world include imperfections and untoward agony? In this case, it
seems that neither the question nor the answer needs to appeal to
God or religion.
One may also wonder whether it is neither optimism nor
pessimism, but rather some intermediate position, that is more likely
to ultimately convince. Without committing oneself to the optimal
arrangement of the cosmos, nor to its valuelessness, one may locate
some order and goodness in the world, and may attach such value
specifically to certain human endeavors or experiences, which, if
attained, may make human existence either worth having (O2) or
not (P2), without thereby leading one either to full-fledged optimism
(O1 + O2) or to outright pessimism (P1 + P2).16 We may refer to
views locating enough value to support O2 as quasi-optimistic, and
call those rejecting enough such value to support P2 quasi-
pessimistic. All of these views, as well as an intermediate position
that remains neutral concerning the worth of human life, may be
represented on a spectrum as follows:

One challenge facing positions falling in between optimism and

pessimism is to provide specific criteria for determining just how
much value found in the world justifies supporting either the
optimistic assessment of human existence as worthwhile, or the
pessimistic counterpart of that assessment. Another challenge would
be to show that value of the right kind and amount, once
determined, can be reliably expected to persist so as to support
those assessments consistently. Part of the attraction of a fully
optimistic or pessimistic theory, by contrast, is that it provides an
evaluation of the world that is clear-cut and unfluctuating.
Furthermore, optimism provides a unique reason for maintaining
that human existence is worthwhile, which seems unavailable to
other theories. For, if the world is perfectly ordered and good, then
human life, however individually potentially distressing, may be
worthwhile simply insofar as it contributes to that perfection as one
of its parts (as we shall see in Chapter 4, Aristotle reasons along
these lines in motivating his view of death as an evil). Granted, it
may be the case that both optimism and pessimism can be
conclusively shown to be false, with some intermediate theory being
shown to be more plausible. Even in such a case, however,
examining optimism and pessimism exhaustively would still prove
beneficial. These theories could function as limiting cases, and their
shortcomings may point out which type of intermediate theory is
more likely to be true—one falling in the “optimistic camp” (i.e.,
upholding that there is enough value in the world to make human
life preferable over nonexistence) or in the “pessimistic camp.”
In Chapter 1, I examine Arthur Schopenhauer’s critique of the
optimism he reads in the Hebrew Bible and in Spinoza’s philosophy.
According to Schopenhauer, the Hebrew Bible presents a consistently
optimistic worldview. Already in Genesis, Schopenhauer points out,
the acts of creation are followed by the locution: “And God saw that
[it was] good” (‫)וירא אלהים כי טוב‬. In fact, Schopenhauer
continues, so good is this creation, according to the biblical view,
that it leaves nothing to look forward to outside of this world, and
the Bible consequently recommends simply rejoicing in the joys of
the present (Ecclesiastes IX. 7–10). On that view, the world in all its
parts is impeccable by hypothesis. Any seeming imperfection within
the world, including those pertaining to human beings and their
lives, must be merely apparent.
Schopenhauer finds an equivalent view in Spinoza’s pantheism.
For Spinoza, God is a being whose “essence excludes all
imperfection and involves absolute perfection” (E1p9s), and it is the
only substance of which we can conceive (E1p14) and in which we
(like everything else) have our being (E1p15). The conclusion to
draw is that we, too, are parts of that perfect entity. And so, as
Schopenhauer sees it, Spinoza’s theory, just like the biblical
worldview, is essentially optimistic. By the basic assumption of these
two systems, there can be no fault in our existence, and hence
nothing to improve. Schopenhauer, however, finds this optimistic
outlook unconvincing, for two main reasons. First, given the
immense suffering one witnesses in the world, optimism generally
generates some version of the classical problem of evil, which it is
unable to solve. One’s individual life cannot plausibly be construed
as “perfect,” as it must be if we consider it a part of a perfectly
created cosmos. Second, optimism itself, once adopted, ironically
makes individuals worse than they otherwise would have been. For,
since optimism encourages one to look favorably upon one’s
individual life, it also promotes egoism, which inevitably leads to
cruelty.
In Chapter 2, we shall turn to Schopenhauer’s own pessimistic
theory and to Nietzsche’s critique of it. Schopenhauer presents an
alternative to Jewish and pantheistic optimism, and the
unreasonable self-commendation that he believes they promote.
Human life, as Schopenhauer thinks it is standardly lived, is
objectively futile and indeed miserable. Life, for him, involves
continuous strife (WWR I, §61: 331), which is inescapable even by
means of suicide (§54: 281). Whenever we find ourselves under the
impression that our human condition is any better than that, we are
simply mistaken. However, Schopenhauer also thinks that there is a
way out of this predicament. The solution is to be found in his notion
of the “denial of the will-to-live” (§68: 397). Knowing and
acknowledging that no form of life can be free from suffering, and
that attempting to alleviate one’s suffering from within the
framework of one’s life is necessarily done in vain, one gradually
grows frustrated with living as such, and ceases to will it. Such a
process, if carried out properly, ultimately yields “[t]rue salvation”
(§68: 397). By dimming (and, ultimately, eliminating) the subjective
investment in one’s own life, with its various aims, goals, choices,
and values, Schopenhauer thinks, one could potentially exist in an
objectively praiseworthy way.
 However, Schopenhauer’s claim that self-abnegation is preferable
over any standard instance of individual life seems to involve him in
a paradox. As Nietzsche (GM III.28) argues directly against
Schopenhauer, and as Thomas Nagel (in Mortal Questions) later
argued against similar positions, the recommendation of eliminating
one’s aims is itself explainable only as the willful pursuit of an aim.
Willing not to will, in other words, is still willing, and a desire not to
desire is still a desire. Indeed, this criticism exposes an even graver
problem for Schopenhauer. Since Schopenhauer promotes self-
abnegation as a desirable goal, his view turns out to share an
important element in common with the Jewish and pantheistic
optimistic views he sets out to reject. The very prospect of solving
totally the misery and misfortune inherent to the human condition
implies that, at least in principle, we need not find ourselves, or at
least remain, in an imperfect world or in a less than fully desirable
state.
The problem intensifies when we attend to the theoretical basis
for Schopenhauer’s recommendation. He believes that the denial of
the will-to-live would bring about the most desirable state one could
aspire to, precisely because in that state one ceases, for all intents
and purposes, to exist as an individual human being or
phenomenon. But that presupposes that there is something beyond
phenomena for humans to exist as. For Schopenhauer, that is the
“will”—the “thing-in-itself”—constituting the true reality underlying
all phenomena. If what we most truly are is a non-phenomenal
metaphysical substratum, however, then whatever phenomenal
attributes we have, including all the imperfections and suffering
Schopenhauer locates in the human condition, do not truly belong to
us. At bottom, we are immutable, eternal, and impeccable, as is the
entire world. As it turns out, the very commendation of world and
self that Schopenhauer abhors in what he calls Jewish and
pantheistic optimism can be attributed to Schopenhauer’s own view
of the world and the self (understood as what they essentially and
truly are).
Nietzsche does not simply reject Schopenhauer’s recommendation
of the denial of the will-to-live, along with the metaphysics
underlying it. He also suggests an alternative. This alternative, which
itself faces a formidable challenge, is the subject of Chapter 3. Based
on his idea of the “death of God” and his rejection of absolute
values, Nietzsche recommends creating novel values through
affirming the world and oneself. Nietzsche envisages his alternative
as overcoming the problems of both pessimism (à la Schopenhauer)
and optimism (of the kind Schopenhauer himself rejects). He
describes his Zarathustra as recognizing that the optimist is just as
bad as, if not worse than, the pessimist (EH IV.4). Nevertheless,
Nietzsche’s view arguably does ultimately revert to the same
evaluation of the world and of oneself that both he and
Schopenhauer find problematic. It has been argued, that is, that
Nietzsche, too, endows the world and its various parts, including
individual human beings, with ultimate value. In The Rebel, Albert
Camus suggests that Nietzsche’s top goal—“creation” (Schaffen) or
“yes-saying” (Ja-sagen), roughly, aligning one’s will with the world—
amounts to thinking of the world as a deity and of oneself as divine,
after and despite the “death of God.” Thus, although Nietzsche
criticizes monotheism for privileging God as singularly valuable and
believers in Him as singularly correct (GS 143), he himself privileges
the world and those individuals who value it in just this way.
Both Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, though criticizing optimistic
views for overvaluing human beings, are nevertheless led, in
different ways, to overvalue individual human beings to an arguably
unprecedented degree. There is, however, one readily available view
that seems to deliberately and consistently avoid this consequence.
This view, which dates back to Aristotle and is later developed by
Moses Maimonides, is interestingly one which both Schopenhauer
and Nietzsche would consider optimistic, and rightly so. Aristotelian
optimism will be examined in detail in Chapters 5 and 6. However, in
order to appreciate the relevance of that theory to later views, we
will first, in Chapter 4, compare the ancient pessimistic approaches
that Aristotle engages with to their modern counterparts, and
especially to Schopenhauer’s view (as we have already seen,
pessimistic sentiments and views make an appearance already in
ancient Greek philosophy and literature, and the connections of
those to modern pessimism, as we shall see, do not elude
Schopenhauer himself). In a fragment from a lost dialogue, titled the
Eudemus, Aristotle tells a story about Silenus, who, upon being
captured by King Midas, utters a statement encapsulating a
pessimistic view resembling Schopenhauer’s views on human life and
existence. I shall argue that Aristotle presents Silenus’s words in
order to reject them, along with Plato’s view in the Phaedo of death
as a blessing and a release. This criticism is applicable to
Schopenhauer’s general view, and it sets the ground for establishing
Aristotle’s own alternative to pessimism.
In Chapter 5, I turn to the details of Aristotle’s optimistic theory.
For Aristotle, the person who has reached the highest value humanly
possible, and recognizes her value adequately, qualifies as
“magnanimous” (megalopsuchos). Occupying a middle position
between the “small-souled” and the “vain,” the magnanimous person
is concerned with “honors and dishonors” exactly appropriately,
knowing when to accept and reject them and taking the right
amount of pleasure in them when they are deserved (NE IV.3).
Despite a long controversy surrounding the criteria Aristotle thinks a
magnanimous person must meet, there are good reasons to identify
that person with Aristotle’s philosopher, who is best equipped to
appreciate and assess, not only human honors and dishonors, but
also what in Aristotle’s system are the greatest honors in existence—
those attributed to the unmoved movers of the heavenly bodies and
spheres, i.e., Aristotle’s gods. Being acquainted with these ultimate
causes of reality and their magnificence, the magnanimous person
comes to devalue humanity and devotes her life and efforts to the
divine. This devotion to the divine, which seems to go against the
natural tendency of organisms to further their own lives and species,
is nevertheless quite consistent with Aristotle’s teleological view of
nature, according to which nature exhibits a clear hierarchy of
species, with each species teleologically oriented not only toward its
own interests but also toward the good of superior species.
Importantly, this view of nature is predicated on the assumption that
the world functions optimally and is perfectly good as is. Thus,
Aristotle’s view presents an alternative to pessimism. However, it
also avoids a core feature characteristic of biblical and Spinozist
optimism as characterized by Schopenhauer, of the unintentionally
optimistic features of Schopenhauer’s theory revealed by Nietzsche,
and of Nietzsche’s inadvertent optimism as analyzed by Camus. For
Aristotle’s view devalues humanity by comparison to superior
entities, and hence resists overvaluing humanity or oneself.
Moses Maimonides consciously appropriates much of Aristotelian
theory and integrates it into both his philosophical system and his
biblical interpretation. In Chapter 6, I discuss Maimonides’s
appropriation and development of Aristotle’s optimism, which helps
to put that theory in conversation with post-classical debates on the
value of the world and of human life. In the Guide of the Perplexed
III, Maimonides sets out to solve the classical problem of evil. His
solution rests, not on disregarding or explaining away suffering or
evil in the world, but rather on the devaluation of human beings.
Coming to terms with our own inferiority as humans to higher
entities such as the heavenly bodies and the separate intellects,
Maimonides thinks, allows us to adopt a sober and correct optimistic
worldview. In establishing his devaluation of human beings for this
purpose, Maimonides relies on his interpretation of Jewish sources
and, implicitly, on his understanding of Aristotle’s philosophy. Various
biblical and Talmudic texts venerate viewing oneself, and indeed the
whole of humankind, as lowly. Abraham, Moses, King David, Isaiah,
and Job have all been described as, and commended for, sharing in
this recognition and conducting their lives in accordance with it.
Humans, in general, are likened to a “vanity” in Psalms 144:4, and to
maggots and worms in Job 25:6. Maimonides harmonizes such
statements with his own conception (and ideal) of the righteous
person and prophet—a philosopher who, like Aristotle’s
magnanimous person, devalues humanity and herself and devotes
her life and efforts to the divine. Based on these views, Maimonides
is able to sustain an optimistic worldview which, far from implying
the impeccability of human beings, is in fact grounded in the
devaluation of humanity.
Finally, in Chapter 7, I assess the degree to which Aristotelian
theory is capable of answering the challenge that Schopenhauer
poses to optimism. I conclude that, contra Schopenhauer, Aristotle’s
view, especially as developed by Maimonides, is capable of dealing
with the classical problem of evil without compromising its optimistic
principles and without having to resort to personal immortality. I also
outline an Aristotelian-Maimonidean response to Schopenhauer’s
claim that optimism inevitably leads to moral depravity and cruelty.
Indeed, the Aristotelian-Maimonidean stance on these issues not
only defends optimism against Schopenhauer’s challenge, but also
suggests that it is indeed a view such as Schopenhauer’s that is
essentially self-centered and hence potentially morally hazardous. I
close by considering further objections to optimism (raised both by
Schopenhauer and by others), and the ways in which Aristotelian
optimism might respond to them. One group of such objections
focuses on the irrelevance of Aristotle’s theory to contemporary
discussion, given its teleological principles and commitment to such
things as the eternity of biological species. I argue that a modified
version of Aristotelian optimism can withstand such objections.

1 Throughout, by “x is valueless” I mean, not that x cannot be evaluated, but

rather that, upon evaluation, it turns out that x is not at all valuable (notice that,
in addition, P1’s evaluation of the condition of the world as woeful in fact
attributes disvalue to the world). The view that one might not appropriately form
value judgments concerning the world, or anything in it, will be considered in
Chapter 3.
2
All translations and page numbers of Schopenhauer’s texts are taken from E.
F. J. Payne, unless otherwise noted.
3 WWR II.XXXVII: 434; II.XLVI: 574; Brieftasche 9, pp. 17–18 (Payne, 160–1);

Reisebuch 33, pp. 30–1 (Payne, 13–14). See Chapter 2 for a more detailed
discussion of these texts. Payne translates Werthlosigkeit as “worthlessness”;
reasonably, since Schopenhauer uses the word as an evaluative term (as I use
“valuelessness” throughout). Nichtigkeit, for him, is an evaluative term as well
(making Payne’s translation of it as “vanity” appropriate), as it denotes primarily
the futility of all striving and aiming, which inevitably lead to suffering (WWR I,
§68: 385, 394–7; II.XXXVII: 435; II.XLVI: 634–5).
4
S. Blackburn, The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy, 3rd ed. (Oxford, 2008), ad
“optimism and pessimism.”
 5 N. Bunnin and J. Yu, The Blackwell Dictionary of Western Philosophy (Maiden,
2004), ad “optimism” and “pessimism.”
6
L. E. Loemker, “Pessimism and Optimism,” in D. M. Borchert (ed.),
Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2nd ed., vol. 7 (Detroit, 2006), 244–54, at 244–5.
7 P. Prescott, “What Pessimism Is,” Journal of Philosophical Research 37 (2012),

337–56, helpfully distinguishes pessimism from cynicism, fatalism, the affirmation

of decline, nihilism, and despair. Prescott’s own definition of pessimism is as “the
belief that the bad prevails over the good.” He also claims, contrary to my
understanding of pessimism in this book, that pessimism essentially involves
“personal investment” and hence also “emotional commitment.”
8
On this point see also Prescott (2012, 341–3), discussing J. F. Dienstag,
Pessimism (Princeton, NJ, 2006).
9 L. E. Loemker (2006, 244–5) and F. C. Beiser, Weltschmerz: Pessimism in

German Philosophy 1860–1900 (Oxford, 2016), 153, associate a similar move with
Eduard von Hartmann. See also S. Neiman, Evil in Modern Thought: An Alternative
History of Philosophy (Princeton, NJ, 2015), 22; M. Migotti, “Schopenhauer’s
Pessimism in Context,” in R. Wicks (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Schopenhauer
(Oxford, 2020), 284–98 at 285–6.
10
J. B. Cabell, The Silver Stallion (New York, 1926), 129. Quoted in D. Benatar,
The Human Predicament (Oxford, 2017), 5; Cf. Migotti (2020), 285–6.
11 Cf. Migotti (2020), 286.
12
Loemker (2006, 244) traces the term “optimism” to 1737 and “pessimism” to
1795.
13 Dienstag (2006), 8–9; cf. ibid., 166.
14
On the usefulness of anachronism for such purposes, see D. Graham,
“Anachronism in the History of Philosophy,” in P. H. Hare (ed.), Doing Philosophy
Historically (Buffalo, NY, 1988), 137–48, esp. 142–4.
15 A. Guttmacher, Optimism and Pessimism in the Old and New Testaments

(Baltimore, MD, 1903), 125.

16 I am thankful to Anna Schriefl for a helpful discussion concerning this point.
 1
Schopenhauer’s Critique of the Optimism of
the Hebrew Bible and Spinoza

Schopenhauer frequently assimilates Spinoza’s pantheism with

Jewish monotheism, and contrasts both with his own system. In his
view, both Spinoza and Judaism reject personal immortality and
endorse a belief in a deity with the same “moral character”
(moralischen Charakter) and “value” (Werth) (WWR II.L). This
confluence of Spinozism and Judaism, and Schopenhauer’s
opposition to both, seem surprising at first sight. First,
Schopenhauer, by his own admission (WWR II.L), shares with
Spinoza the basic view that the true nature of the world is single and
unified, and that, contra Abrahamic monotheism, the world is not
created. Second, belief in personal immortality is not standardly
characterized as incompatible with Judaism. Indeed, according to
recent influential accounts, it is precisely for rejecting this belief that
Spinoza was so severely excommunicated from the Jewish
community he had been a part of. Third, Spinoza is standardly taken
to reject the Jewish conception of God, not least for its moral and
practical implications. Hence it may seem, as indeed has been
argued, that Schopenhauer’s assimilation of Spinozism to Judaism is
simply the result of either anti-Semitism or sheer ignorance (or
both).
In fact, however, Schopenhauer’s thesis is the conclusion of a
carefully worked out argument, according to which the basic
premises of both pantheism and theism lead directly to optimism.
This argument, which is undoubtedly mounted in order to reject
both Spinoza’s philosophy and Judaism, is nevertheless a testament
to Schopenhauer’s admiration for the internal consistency of both
systems, a feature he explicitly denies to Christianity. It is specifically
the optimism to which their ground assumptions allegedly inevitably
lead that Schopenhauer rejects in both Judaism and Spinoza’s
pantheism. Schopenhauer views that optimism as doubly
problematic. First, he contends, since the world is evidently full of
suffering, optimists face the problem of evil, and cannot successfully
respond to it (at least without resorting to such ideas as personal
immortality, which are inconsistent with their theoretical
commitments). Second, it is Schopenhauer’s assessment that, by
promoting the adherence to individual life as an ideal, optimism
leads to egoism, which in turn promotes cruelty, both toward one’s
fellow humans and, even more so, toward nonhuman animals.

1.1 Monotheistic and Pantheistic Optimism

Schopenhauer regards Judaism as “the only purely monotheistic
religion” teaching “a God creator as the origin of all things” (FHP
§13: 127). He contrasts this tradition with both Buddhism, which is
entirely atheistic, and Brahmanism, as well as Phoenician, Greek,
Roman, and North American religions, which posit divinities but no
Creator God (FHP §13: 127). For Schopenhauer, the word God
necessarily indicates a “world-cause that is not only different from
the world, but is intelligent, that is to say, knows and wills, and so is
personal and consequently also individual” (FHP §13: 115). The God
of Judaism, Schopenhauer thinks, certainly meets these criteria. Not
only has He intentionally and intelligently created the world, but He
also assesses His own creation as a good one, as is exemplified by
the recurring statement in Genesis 1, following His deeds of
creation: “And God saw that [it was] good” (orig.: ‫וירא אלהים כי‬
‫)טוב‬. This “optimistic history of creation,” as Schopenhauer calls it
(WWR II.XLVIII: 620), sets the tone for the rest of Jewish religion
and culture as he sees them. Interestingly, he finds the most distinct
pronouncement of this approach in Clement of Alexandria—a Church
Father. In Stromata III.3, Schopenhauer notes, Clement opposes the
Marcionites for “having found fault with the creation” (WWR
II.XLVIII: 621). For Clement, he continues, upon accepting the fact
that God created the world “it is a priori certain that it is excellent,
no matter what it looks like” (WWR II.XLVIII: 622). This attitude,
Schopenhauer concludes, makes Clement “more of a Jew than a
Christian” (WWR II.XLVIII: 622). Judaism, for Schopenhauer, is
essentially optimistic. It is founded on the belief in a God responsible
for the creation of an absolutely flawless world.
Schopenhauer’s interpretation of Judaism on this point is
consonant with prominent voices in Jewish theology and philosophy.
In GP III.13, Maimonides comments on Genesis 1:31, where it is
stated that “God saw all that He has created, and behold, [it was]
very good (‫)והנה טוב מאד‬.” The word “very” ‫ ))מאד‬is added at
Genesis 1:31 for the first time, after repeated references earlier in
the chapter to God’s seeing His creation and simply declaring it
“good.” According to Maimonides, this addition means that Creation,
in its entirety, conforms to God’s intention permanently (327:16–
21).1 Later, he assimilates that idea to “the philosophical opinion
(‫ דעת הפילוסופים‬,‫ ”)אלראי אלפלספי‬that “in all natural things there
is nothing that may be described as futile” (III.25, 365:30–366:9),
i.e., to the Aristotelian dictum that “nature does nothing in vain”
(e.g., IA 8, 708a9–11).2 Thus, in GP III.10, Maimonides extends the
statement at Genesis 1:31 to the existence of particular natural
phenomena, including organisms made of inferior, perishable matter,
such as human beings. In the light of Genesis 1:31, Maimonides
thinks, such beings are doomed to undergo evils, including their
eventual death, but “all of that is good as well (‫כל‬, ‫כל זה גם כן טוב‬
‫)ׄד לך איׄצ א טוב‬,” because of the permanence of being through
reproduction and the cycle of life (317:10–16).3 For Maimonides,
then, the account of Creation in Genesis implies that the world as
such is perfectly good, and that the particular ordering of
phenomena as we observe it in the natural world invariably
contributes to that perfection.
One finds endorsement of the optimistic reading of Genesis 1,
very much along Schopenhauerian lines, in twentieth-century biblical
scholarship as well.4 More recently, one scholar describes the
account of Creation in Genesis 1 as revealing a “majestic, rationally
ordered, and morally good universe,” a cosmos in which “nothing . .
. is random or incomplete,” and a structure of reality that is “orderly
and philosophical.”5 It has also been argued, based on a
comprehensive examination of Scripture, that, much like
Schopenhauer concludes, the Hebrew Bible as a whole is
predominantly optimistic, by contrast to the New Testament.6 Broad
generalizations such as this are of course prone to being challenged,
as indeed they have been.7 But, whichever opinion one reaches
about the philosophical position underlying the books comprising the
Hebrew Bible, it is reasonable, assuming that such a unified position
does dominate or at least is present consistently throughout these
texts, to turn to Genesis 1 in order to identify it. For it has been
argued that the Priestly writer (‘P’)—a dominant source throughout
the Pentateuch responsible for the first Creation account in Genesis
1—“exhibited . . . consistent thematic interests,” and in particular
was “far more optimistic and expansive [than ‘J’—the Jahwist
source], embracing a narrative arc that began with God’s
establishment of the ‘very good’ created order and culminating in the
assurance of God’s enduring presence among the people through
the establishment of a legitimate cult at Mount Sinai.”8 At the very
least, then, Schopenhauer seems to be on firm ground in tracking a
consistently (if not solely) optimistic tone throughout the
Pentateuch, beginning with Genesis 1 and its account of Creation.
Let us turn to Schopenhauer’s assessment of Spinoza. In the very
last chapter of The World as Will and Representation (II.L), titled
“Epiphilosophy,” Schopenhauer presents an overview of the
significance of his philosophical project, as well as its limitations. He
states that philosophy, be it his or anyone else’s, cannot achieve “a
perfect understanding of the existence, inner nature, and origin of
the world” (WWR II.L: 642). Instead, philosophy, practiced properly,
“sticks to the actual facts of outward and inward experience as they
are accessible to everyone, and shows their true and deepest
connexion, yet without really going beyond them to any
extramundane things, and the relations of these to the world” (WWR
II.L: 640). Though we may not gain perfect knowledge of the inner
nature of the world, we nevertheless may learn quite a lot, in
Schopenhauer’s view. By analyzing phenomena available for one to
experience, and especially oneself (as the phenomenon most readily
available for one to experience and examine), one may gain a “key
to the inner nature of the world,” and come to understand the way
in which all phenomena relate to this inner nature, namely, as
manifestations or representations of it (WWR II.L: 642).
Schopenhauer takes himself to be the first to have adequately
identified this metaphysical substratum underlying all objects of
experience. He acknowledges, however, that others before him have
already attended to the more basic, and crucial, idea that “the inner
essence in all things is absolutely one and the same” (WWR II.L:
642). Schopenhauer attributes the recognition of this truth to such
thinkers as Parmenides, John Scotus Eriugena, Giordano Bruno, and
Spinoza, who “had taught it in detail” by Schopenhauer’s time, in his
estimation (WWR II.L: 642).
Schopenhauer, then, credits Spinoza with recognizing and
developing a fundamental philosophical truth. Spinoza’s system,
Schopenhauer maintains, elaborately captures the observation, at
the core of both pantheism and Schopenhauer’s own theory, that all
experienced phenomena share a single metaphysical substratum,
and that in this sense everything is one (WWR II.L: 643). Indeed,
the positive influence on Schopenhauer of Spinoza’s philosophy, as
well as of his life, has been the subject of extensive discussion.9
However, Schopenhauer also thinks that Spinoza, like previous
pantheists, makes a crucial error by identifying the true nature of the
world with the Deity, and concluding that everything is God (WWR
II.L: 643). This move, Schopenhauer thinks, leads directly to
“optimism,” i.e., to the view that the world, in all its parts and
details, is perfect (WWR II.L: 644). As we shall see in the next
sections, Schopenhauer believes that systems of thought leading to
this “optimism” are significantly challenged by certain unfavorable
theoretical and ethical consequences that follow from it. It is
important at the outset, though, to see what Schopenhauer thinks
Spinoza’s “optimism” amounts to, and in what way he takes his own
view to deviate from it.
Schopenhauer, both in WWR II.L and consistently throughout his
writings, compares Spinoza’s optimistic worldview to that of Judaism,
and that comparison sheds light on his overall interpretation of
Spinoza. Like Jewish monotheism, Schopenhauer thinks,
“[p]antheism is essentially and necessarily optimism” (FHP §12: 73).
Spinoza’s God is different from that of Judaism, to be sure. In fact,
Schopenhauer notes, it would have been prudent of Spinoza not to
even call his substance God (or, Deus) (FHP §12: 72). As indicated
earlier, Schopenhauer thinks God is by definition a personal being.
He also says expressly that personality is precisely what Spinoza
denies his God (WWR II.L: 644). In fact, Schopenhauer thinks
Spinoza shares his own basic view, in that both maintain that the
world exists, not due to a creator God, but rather “by its own inner
power and through itself” (WWR II.L: 644). Nevertheless,
Schopenhauer deviates from Spinoza on the characterization of the
“inner nature of the world” (Spinoza’s Deus), which he thinks leads
in Spinoza’s case directly to optimism reminiscent of Judaism (WWR
II.L: 644). Spinoza’s God is a being whose “essence excludes all
imperfection and involves absolute perfection” (E1p11s: eius
essentia omnem imperfectionem secludit absolutamque
perfectionem involvit). Thus, Schopenhauer’s association between
Spinoza’s Deus and the monotheistic God (in WWR II.L) is
compatible with his recognition (e.g., in FHP §12) of the substantial
dissimilarities between the two.10 The association seems to work, for
Schopenhauer, as long as both deities are assumed to be perfect by
both systems. And of course, in Spinoza’s system, God is the only
substance conceivable (E1p14), and “Whatever has being, has its
being in God” (E1p15: Quicquid est, in Deo est). The inevitable
consequence of deriving one’s explanations of the natural world from
such a starting point, for Schopenhauer, is the rejection of the
possibility of anything less than a perfect state of the world a priori.
The pantheistic world, as Schopenhauer puts it, exhausts the “entire
possibility of all being,” and it is for this reason that he thinks
pantheism, like Judaism, is “essentially optimism” (WWR II.L: 644).
The optimistic worldview underlying both Judaism and Spinozism
is a crucial common denominator between them, and constitutes a
crucial difference between them and other religions or systems of
thought, in Schopenhauer’s view. As he puts it (WWR II.XVII: 170):

I cannot, as is generally done, put the fundamental difference of all religions

in the question whether they are monotheistic, polytheistic, pantheistic, or
atheistic, but only in the question whether they are optimistic or pessimistic,
in other words, whether they present the existence of this world as justified
by itself, and consequently praise and commend it, or consider it as
something which can be conceived only as the consequence of our guilt, and
thus really ought not to be, in that they recognize that pain and death cannot
lie in the eternal, original, and immutable order of things, that which in every
respect ought to be.

On the most crucial issue, then, Judaism and Spinozism are grouped
together, and are contrasted with both Christianity and
Schopenhauer’s philosophy. Significant though the difference might
be between a personal benevolent Creator God and God understood
as an infinite and eternal substance functioning as the inner nature
of the world, Schopenhauer believes both principles consistently lead
to importantly similar results. In particular, as we shall see, he thinks
that by excluding the possibility of considering the world anything
less than perfect, both systems lead to identical views on the
problem of evil, the possibility of an afterlife, and certain ethical
issues. Indeed, Schopenhauer criticizes both systems, occasionally
simultaneously, specifically for upholding these views.

1.2. The “Problem of Evil”

Any view or system of thought upholding optimism must confront
the challenge of accounting for those features of the world that
appear to be less than optimal. Schopenhauer thus takes Spinoza’s
theory to be faced with that challenge as well. He thinks that it
ultimately fails to meet the challenge. Since here, again, he links the
failure with the connection between Spinoza’s pantheism and Jewish
monotheism, it is helpful to discuss, first, the reasons why Judaism
cannot successfully accomplish that task, in his view.
For Schopenhauer, Judaism is committed to the goodness of the
world given its creation by a personal God. Unlike Christianity, which
introduces an evil force to account for the world’s ills, and even
regards “the devil” as “ruler” over “the world,” Judaism seems to
simply accept this world as entirely good (WWR II.XLVIII: 624). It is
perhaps this feature that leads Schopenhauer to declare Judaism
“the only purely monotheistic religion” (FHP §13: 127), which he
indeed says is a distinction (Ruhm), by contrast to other features for
which it ought to be criticized (more on these later) (FHP §13: 126).
Surely, it is not its “monotheism” per se that Schopenhauer
commends Judaism for, since he thinks (as does Spinoza) that a
personal Creator God cannot exist. Rather, Schopenhauer applauds
the “purity” of Judaism’s monotheism. Judaism begins with
postulating a perfectly good, omnipotent God, and consistently
attributes to Him all of creation, without introducing additional
agents or factors.
But, given such a commitment on the part of Judaism, it must
according to Schopenhauer face up to the following fact (FHP §13:
120–1):

. . . the melancholy constitution of a world whose living beings subsist by

devouring one another, the consequent distress and death of all that lives, the
multitude and colossal magnitude of evils, the variety and inevitability of
sufferings often swelling to the dreadful, the burden of life itself hurrying
forward to the bitterness of death, all this cannot honestly be reconciled with
the idea that the world is supposed to be the work of a united infinite
goodness, wisdom, and power.

Alluding to the classical problem of evil, Schopenhauer says here

that God cannot be perfectly good and omnipotent while still
allowing for the imperfections and evils we know the world to
contain. Theism, Schopenhauer notes, often responds to this
problem by invoking “all kinds of shifts, evasions, and theodicies”
(WWR II.XLVII: 591). Such shifts might include, for instance,
introducing the devil as a counterforce to God’s goodness. Even such
moves, Schopenhauer thinks, “succumbed irretrievably to the
arguments of Hume and Voltaire”—both presenting versions of the
classical problem of evil (WWR II.XLVII: 591). But Judaism does not
even have such means at its disposal. It must content itself with
God’s own assessment concerning His creation—that it is “good”—in
the face of even our most direct experience.
A similar problem arises for pantheism, or so Schopenhauer
charges. In fact, after discussing the problem of evil and its
consequences for theism, he continues: “[b]ut pantheism is wholly
untenable in face of [the] evil side of the world” (WWR II.XLVII:
591). Of course, the problem of evil confronting pantheism results
from the inconsistency between the existence of evil in the world
and the existence of the pantheistic, not the theistic, God. The basic
problem with the pantheistic God, for Schopenhauer, is that it is
supposed to provide an explanation of all of reality, without itself
being known or explained by any means, and a fortiori not by means
of experience (WWR II.L: 643). If everything in existence has its
being in and as a direct consequence of a perfect God, then
anything, regardless of the way we experience it, must itself be
divine and faultless. As Schopenhauer puts it, on the assumptions of
pantheism “the world would be a theophany” (WWR II.XXVIII: 349).
But this optimism is untenable, Schopenhauer suggests, since it goes
against the observable fact that “pain as such is inevitable and
essential to life” (WWR I, §57: 315). We have, as Schopenhauer
often reminds us, direct knowledge and experience of the
“preponderance of want, suffering, and misery, of dissension,
wickedness, infamy, and absurdity” (WWR II.XLVII: 591). Such
“terrible and ghastly phenomena,” as Schopenhauer sarcastically
puts it in response to John Scotus Eriugena’s proto-pantheistic view,
would make “fine theophanies!” (WWR II.L: 643).
Though Schopenhauer does mention “palliatives and quack
remedies” used by pantheists to combat charges such as his (WWR
II.L: 643), it is not clear specifically what these devices are and,
since they are mentioned in the context of discussing pantheism in
general, it is not clear that Schopenhauer thinks they have been
adopted by Spinoza himself. It is possible, however, that one of
those pantheistic “quack remedies” for the problem of evil which
Schopenhauer appeals to is Spinoza’s own oft-discussed doctrine,
stated in the preface to Ethics 4, that “good and bad (bonum et
malum)” are “no positive [property] in things considered by
themselves (nihil etiam positivum in rebus, in se scilicet
consideratis),” but rather merely indicate “modes of thought or
notions (cogitandi modos seu notiones)” resulting from our
comparisons between objects. As it seems, had Spinoza embraced
that doctrine in its entirety, it would have provided him with a
possible solution to the problem of evil as it pertains to his
philosophy, since there would be nothing objectively evil to generate
such a problem to begin with. However, as has been pointed out by
Steven Nadler, Spinoza in fact does not have this solution at his
disposal. For, as it turns out, Spinoza does maintain that some
things, like gaining knowledge of God, are objectively good (E4p28),
implying that good and bad (or evil) are not entirely subjective,
human-made categories.11 Spinoza, then, could not defend his
optimism against Schopenhauer’s charge by appealing to the
subjectivity of good and evil.
It has also been argued, in the context of comparing Spinoza to
Schopenhauer, that (1) for Spinoza, thinking that evil is prevalent in
the world is an error, resulting from failure to recognize the necessity
of all events and the absolute perfection of God,12 and (2) despite
Schopenhauer’s criticisms (cf. WWR II.XLVII; WWR II.XVII), for
Spinoza one’s astonishment at the suffering in the world is resolved
with true knowledge, similarly to the way that for Schopenhauer
himself recognizing the will as the essence of all things explains
suffering.13 However, as far as Schopenhauer is concerned, (1)
explaining away the prevalence of evil in the world is necessarily
one-sided, restricting one to evaluating the world exclusively “from
the outside,” or “from the physical side” (WWR II.XLVII: 591).
Looking at things also “from within,” or from “the subjective and the
moral side,” Schopenhauer argues, one comes to realize that the
prevalence of evil and suffering is ultimately ineliminable and that,
consequently, the characterization of the world as a deity is wholly
inappropriate (WWR II.XLVII: 591). And (2), quite distinctly from the
prevalence of evils, pantheism is incapable of accounting for the fact
that we tend to be astonished by the very existence of the world and
“the evil and wickedness” within it, which would be felt, and would
demand an explanation, even if evils were “far outweighed by the
good” (WWR II.XVII: 170–2). Such astonishment, Schopenhauer
thinks, leads to the true conclusion that the world’s nonexistence “is
preferable to its existence” (WWR II.XVII: 171; cf. WWR II.XLVI:
576)—a conclusion that Spinoza’s optimism cannot accommodate.

1.3. Denial of Personal Immortality

One standard way out of the problem of evil is of course via the idea
of reward in an afterlife. While Schopenhauer criticizes Spinoza for
not supporting either this or an analogous feature, he also thinks
that he would have been inconsistent in doing so. No internally
consistent optimistic theory can allow for the possibility that any
features of either human life or the world at large leave anything to
be desired. And so, it is to Spinoza’s credit that he does not
compromise the consistency of his theory by resorting to an idea
promising improvement in a life to come.
Here, too, Schopenhauer interprets Judaism as closely akin to,
and as substantially informing, Spinoza’s theory. For Schopenhauer,
Judaism “has absolutely no doctrine of immortality” (FHP §13: 125).
He is often accused of being ignorant on the subject,14 and he has
been more generally called a “metaphysical anti-Semite” who
“abhorred Judaism, of which he knew very little.”15 More recently, it
has been shown that at least Schopenhauer’s early comments on
Judaism were either neutral or even positive.16 In any case,
Schopenhauer is aware of discussions of metempsychosis in
testimonies regarding Jews (e.g., in Tertullian and Justin) (WWR
II.XLI: 506). He also reads a part of the Talmud (Sota 12a) as
referring to the transmigration of soul between Abel, Seth, and
Moses (WWR II.XLI: 506),17 though it should be noted that the
Talmudic text only implicitly draws a connection between these three
figures, which is then developed as an account of metempsychosis
(gilgul) in Lurianic Kabbalah.18 But these ideas, in Schopenhauer’s
estimation, deviate from “the real religion of the Jews,” i.e., from the
texts of the Hebrew Bible (FHP §13: 125). These texts, he says,
directly exclude the possibility of an afterlife, in several places (FHP
§13: 125–6; cf. 2 Chronicles 34:28; Exodus 34:7; Numbers 14:8;
Tobias 3:6: Deuteronomy 5:16, 33; Ecclesiastes 3:19), and when
such ideas are presented, e.g., in Daniel 12:2, they are due to
external (Babylonian) influences, mentioned explicitly in Daniel 1:4,
6 (FHP §13: 125–6). And here again, Schopenhauer is on firm
ground. According to the Encyclopedia Judaica, the Hebrew Bible as
a whole “is comparatively inexplicit on the fate of the individual after
death,” and, although it seems to emerge from certain passages that
“there existed a belief in an afterlife of one form or another,” “the
first explicit biblical formulation of the doctrine of the resurrection of
the dead occurs in the book of Daniel [sc. 12:2].”19
For Schopenhauer, the absence of personal immortality from
Judaism in its original form should not surprise us. First, since only
eternal, and hence uncreated, things can be imperishable (FHP §13:
124), Judaism, which is committed to the creation of humans “out of
nothing” (WWR II.XLI: 506), cannot consistently promise the
lingering of human souls after death. “[N]o doctrine of immortality is
appropriate to a creation out of nothing” (WWR II.XLI: 488), and
Judaism, unlike Christianity and Islam, thus exhibits “perfect
consistency” on this issue (FHP §13: 125).20 The second reason why
Schopenhauer thinks Judaism should not advocate personal
immortality, if it is to remain consistent, is that its belief in a Creator
God implies optimism, as we have seen. If everything created by
God “turned out excellently,” Schopenhauer says, again echoing the
opening chapter of Genesis, then one should “just enjoy his life as
long as it lasts” (WWR II.L: 644). Indeed, he finds a conclusion to
just this effect in Ecclesiastes 9:7–10, in which Qoheleth
recommends joyfully eating one’s bread and drinking one’s wine,
wearing white clothing, letting one’s head lack no oil, and living
one’s life with a beloved wife throughout one’s “vain days” under the
sun, for “there is no deed, calculation, knowledge or wisdom in the
grave [orig.: ‫ ]שאול‬to which you are headed.” At the same time,
Schopenhauer also recognizes as pessimistic “the Fall” in Genesis,21
as well as Ecclesiastes 7:3, stating that “sorrow is better than
laughter.”22 Indeed, Schopenhauer says of Ecclesiastes 7:3 that it is
a text Spinoza should have attended to (FHP §12: 72–3). And it has
been argued that there is more in the Bible that is congenial to
Schopenhauer’s view, and that Ecclesiastes’s optimism, which is built
“on pessimistic foundations,” is echoed by Schopenhauer’s
philosophy, particularly in the Aphorisms on the Wisdom of Life.23
Schopenhauer thinks that the second consideration against
immortality noted previously—that optimism makes the idea of an
afterlife gratuitous—applies to Spinozism as well as to Judaism, and
his discussion of it in WWR II.L in fact occurs within the context of
discussing Spinoza’s optimism. Schopenhauer’s point is precisely that
since Spinoza’s Deus leads to optimism, exactly as the Jewish God
does, his system, just like Judaism, alleviates the need for anything
like judgment in an afterlife. Human beings, on that view, should
seek nothing exceeding the scope of their natural life, a point that,
as Schopenhauer notes, Spinoza himself puts in words clearly
reminiscent of Ecclesiastes (WWR II.L; cf. E4p67d). Indeed, it has
been suggested that Schopenhauer’s own idea of the “pure subject
of knowledge” was originally influenced by Schleiermacher’s
interpretation of Spinoza as denying personal immortality while
affirming the eternity of the soul in God.24 Schopenhauer’s
interpretation of Spinoza as denying personal immortality seems
plausible. Steven Nadler, for example, suggests that Spinoza, while
arguing that the mind “remains” after death inasmuch as it acquires
knowledge of the order of reality (specifically, intuitive knowledge, or
knowledge of the “third kind”) (E5p38), cannot countenance
anything like personal immortality, e.g., because knowledge,
especially when unlinked to continuous memory, is not sufficient to
preserve personal identity.25 Nadler further argues that Spinoza’s
arguments for the eternity of knowledge reveal his attitude toward
organized religions, with their empty promise of personal
immortality, which even such figures as Gersonides felt the need to
support even though the conclusions of their theories are closer to
Spinoza’s own.26 Schopenhauer would agree with Nadler’s
assessment, with one caveat. For him, one organized religion in
particular, namely Judaism, at least in its original form, in fact does
not promise an afterlife, and is for this reason (and others) closely
akin to Spinoza’s worldview. In fact, Nadler himself concurs with
Schopenhauer’s interpretation of the Hebrew Bible as excluding any
reference to the immortality of the soul, as do other prominent
scholars.27
It has been suggested that Schopenhauer ought not to criticize
the rejection of personal immortality, since he himself thinks
individual lives are perishable.28 It is of course true that
Schopenhauer countenances no doctrine of personal immortality.
But, first, his criticism of the denial of immortality by Judaism and
Spinoza’s philosophy is directed at the alleged inability of these
optimistic systems to avoid or dismantle the problem of evil.
Schopenhauer, precisely because he is not an optimist,
acknowledges the existence of an abundance of evils and suffering
in the world and finds no need to explain them away. Second,
Schopenhauer’s philosophy in fact does provide a substitute for
immortality, in the form of the negation of the will-to-live and the
abnegation of one’s phenomenal existence—the subject matter, to a
large extent, of the entire fourth book of WWR I (which we shall
revisit in Chapter 2).

1.4. Ethical Consequences

Apart from the theoretical problems that Schopenhauer locates in
maintaining optimism, he also takes issue with its practical
implications. As he puts it, “optimism is not only a false but also a
pernicious doctrine, for it presents life as a desirable state and man’s
happiness as its aim and object” (WWR II.XLVI: 584). Optimism sees
nothing suboptimal about the world as we know and experience it,
and hence offers nothing in terms of an alternative to it. A fortiori,
then, optimism sees no reason to supply an alternative to the life of
individual human beings, with their various goals and aims. It also
provides no motivation to look beyond individual phenomena, toward
the unified essence that they might all share. But viewing the world
exclusively through this individuation between phenomena in
general, and in particular between our own self and all other living
things, is conducive to egoism. In fact, Schopenhauer insists that
“egoism has its continuance and being [ . . . ] in the fact that the
objectification of the will has for its form the principium
individuationis” (WWR I, §61: 332). Schopenhauer’s idea seems to
be the following. Optimism accepts the individuation of phenomena
at face value, as the optimal way in which the world might be
arranged. But such individuation has as its inevitable consequence
the privileging of one’s own being over all phenomena that one sees
as distinct and remote from oneself (WWR I, §61: 332):

[W]hereas each individual is immediately given to himself as the whole will

and the entire representer, all others are given to him in the first instance only
as his representations. Hence for him his own inner being and its preservation
come before all others taken together.

The consistent optimist, Schopenhauer charges, must accept this

egoistic consequence.
Now, it is true that pantheism maintains that all phenomena are
essentially one. As we have seen, Schopenhauer commends Spinoza
for developing that very idea. But merely recognizing that shared
essence is not enough to escape egoism. For Schopenhauer, it is
necessary that one recognize that “the in-itself of [one’s] own
phenomenon is also that of others, namely that will-to-live which
constitutes the inner nature of everything, and lives in all” (WWR I,
§66: 372). This more specific recognition is crucial in developing
empathy for the suffering of other people and creatures, because it
is precisely the fact that the will-to-live constitutes the inner nature
of all living things that guarantees their continuous suffering, as
Schopenhauer painstakingly explains in WWR I, §56–59. Far from
recognizing the shared essence of all things as a source of profound
and inescapable suffering, pantheism detracts from the prospects of
empathy. On the one hand, it offers as the shared essence of all
things something entirely unknowable (in Schopenhauer’s terms, the
pantheistic God “is an x, an unknown quantity”), which therefore is
not conducive to recognizing, let alone understanding, the suffering
in another person or creature as related to one’s own (WWR II.L:
643). And, on the other hand, pantheism explains away suffering,
and assures us that the world, qua God, though unknown, is “what
is best” (WWR II.L: 643–4).
It has been argued that the fact that Schopenhauer’s “will” is
ultimately unknowable compromises his critique of the unknowability
of the pantheistic God.29 Nevertheless, Schopenhauer’s proposed
way out of egoism is rooted precisely in the idea that the inner
nature of all individuated phenomena, unlike the God of pantheism,
not only is one and the same, but is discoverable (if not capable of
being perfectly understood; see section 1.1), and is useful both for
appreciating the source of suffering in oneself and for empathizing
with other beings who suffer similarly as a result of being, along
with oneself and every other phenomenon, manifestations of a
single “will.” Insofar as this applies to nonhuman living things as
well, Schopenhauer thinks a person recognizing this truth would “not
cause suffering even to an animal” (WWR I, §65: 372). By contrast,
“from [the] standpoint of egoism [ . . . ] the sight or description of
another’s sufferings affords us satisfaction and pleasure” (WWR I,
§58: 320). Happiness, in Schopenhauer’s view, is essentially
negative, in the sense that it only amounts to the avoidance of
suffering, which alone is “positive” and “proclaims itself immediately”
(WWR I, §58: 319–20). For this reason, he thinks, we (operating as
individuated phenomena oblivious of our true nature) actually enjoy
remembering sufferings we no longer have to endure, as well as,
similarly and for the same reason, witnessing others’ suffering (WWR
I, §58: 320; cf. Lucretius, De rerum natura II.1). Though the
manifest reason for this latter enjoyment is being reminded that we
ourselves are spared the suffering we witness in others, rather than
the fact that these others are indeed suffering, Schopenhauer notes
that this type of pleasure “lies very near the source of real, positive
wickedness” (WWR I, §58: 320).
For Schopenhauer, as it turns out, maintaining that this world is
impeccable, as both Spinoza and original Judaism do, leads directly
to moral depravity, specifically to taking enjoyment in inflicting pain.
And again, Schopenhauer finds both Spinoza and Judaism consistent
with their ground principles on this point. Thus, he criticizes Spinoza
for his “contempt for animals,” which, apart from being “absurd and
abominable,” Schopenhauer also regards as “thoroughly Jewish”
(WWR II.L: 645). It has been argued that Schopenhauer’s
identification of cruelty toward animals in the Hebrew Bible is
wrongheaded, as the Bible prescribes the proper treatment of and
conditions for working animals (Deut. 5:14; 25:4), and indeed
condones compassion toward beasts instead of cruelty (Proverbs
12:10).30 To these one may add the injunction to let the poor and
the beasts eat from one’s fields during the Sabbatical year (Leviticus
25:6–7), the prohibition on slaughtering an animal and its offspring
on the same day (Leviticus 28:28),31 and the description of God as
merciful “toward all His creations (‫ ”)על כל מעשיו‬and as “fulfilling
the will of every living creature (‫( ”)ומשביע לכל חי רצון‬Psalms
145:9–16; cf. 145:9).32
However, Schopenhauer is not entirely misguided in locating an
unfair treatment of animals in the Hebrew Bible. It has been noted
that “[t]he Bible contains no comprehensive principle regarding the
rights of animals,” and that “in the Biblical account of creation man is
made sole ruler over the lower creatures, with the right to use them
for whatever purpose he desires (Gen. i. 28; Ps. Viii. 6–8).”33 Lynn
White has influentially argued, similarly, that in the Creation account
inherited from Judaism “no item in the physical creation had any
purpose save to serve man’s purposes.”34 As a recent survey of
scholarship on ancient Judaism between 2009 and 2019 shows, the
anthropocentric interpretation of the Bible has had its critics, but has
also consistently enjoyed support,35 with scholars appealing to such
features as the “androcentrism and anthropocentrism in
Deuteronomy’s categories of man, woman, child, and animal,”36 and
the exploitation of animals for meat-eating, sacrifice, and tool-
making.37 This provides at least partial support for Schopenhauer’s
estimation of the attitude toward animals in the Bible. For his part,
Schopenhauer appeals to Genesis, in which the creation of human
beings brings with it their dominion over all living things (1:26–30),
as does God’s pact with Noah (9:2–3). He compares these texts to
Spinoza’s E4app cap. 26 and E4p37s, and he criticizes TTP 16 as
being “the true compendium of the immorality of Spinoza’s
philosophy” (FHP §12: 73; WWR II.L: 645 n. 7). At E4app cap. 26,
Spinoza says that, since we can only take pleasure in and form
friendships with other human beings, the consideration for our
benefit (nostrae utilitatis ratio) dictates making use of other living
things for our sake, rather than preserving them.
Schopenhauer also mentions an anecdote, told by Colerus, about
Spinoza’s practice of torturing spiders and flies, which Schopenhauer
says “corresponds only too closely” to his (Spinoza’s) theory (FHP
§12: 73). It has been argued that Schopenhauer thinks Spinoza, in
theorizing and behaving in this way, failed to draw the correct
conclusions from his pantheistic theory, because “a pantheist should
not make such a rigid distinction between men and animals since,
after all, they, like everything else, are modes of God or Nature.”38
This interpretation rests on Schopenhauer’s comment, referring to
Spinoza’s attitude toward animals, that Spinoza “occasionally loses
sight of the conclusion where it would have led to correct views”
(FHP §12: 73). Schopenhauer does not specify which type of
“conclusion” he has in mind. Berman assumes that the reference is
to the conclusions of pantheism, which Schopenhauer allegedly
thinks should lead away from cruelty to animals, and that
Schopenhauer explains Spinoza’s oversight as being due to his
Jewish background.39 However, since, as we have seen,
Schopenhauer has independent reasons to think that pantheism
does lead to egoism, wickedness, and the infliction of suffering,
particularly on animals, we may do well to consider a different
possibility. In speaking in FHP §12 of the “conclusion” which Spinoza
does not follow, Schopenhauer may well have in mind, not the
conclusions of pantheism in general, but specifically that conclusion
which pantheism shares with Schopenhauer’s own theory, namely
that “the world exists [ . . . ] by its own inner power and through
itself” (WWR II.L: 644). This view, when correctly followed,
Schopenhauer thinks, indeed leads to the renunciation of cruelty
toward animals, as well as to the rest of the features of
Schopenhauer’s philosophical system. But when this basic view is
used to establish pantheism—when it is supposed, as it is with
Spinoza, that the inner nature of the world is God, and hence perfect
—the idealization of individuation, and with it, egoism and
anthropocentrism, follow.40 Though there is room for a comparison
between Spinoza’s resulting view and Judaism, and though
Schopenhauer draws this comparison himself, he also shows how it
is that each system independently yields the conclusions he finds
problematic. His analysis and arguments may of course be criticized,
but they should not, it seems, be reduced to antisemitic rambling.

1.5. Conclusion
Schopenhauer rejects Spinoza’s pantheism for several features which
it shares in common with Judaism, and which follow from the basic
assumptions of both systems. Both systems posit a God whose
nature necessarily entails optimism. Consequently, both systems
must explain away the presence of evil in the world. But doing so,
Schopenhauer contends, flies in the face of our most basic
experience. Again, given their adherence to optimism, neither
system, if it is to be consistent, can resolve the problem of evil by
positing personal immortality. Finally, their optimistic approach forces
both systems into anthropocentrism and egoism, with grave moral
consequences. It is sometimes assumed that Schopenhauer criticizes
Judaism for introducing God as a source of hope or stability amid
vexations and fleeting phenomena.41 Two things may be said in
response to that assessment, based on the analyses presented thus
far. First, Schopenhauer rejects both Judaism and Spinozism first and
foremost for their optimistic outlook, which he takes to be the
Another random document with
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 The unhappy Battle of Preston soon put several in motion who till
then were quiet. The Lord Pitsligo[335] who had also been engaged
in the Rebellion in the 1715, and had received both his life and
fortune from the Government, still retained his old affection for that
cause, and never qualified to the present Government. He was justly
esteemed a polite and learned gentleman, and of great integrity and
honour in private life, but entirely enthusiastic on the Jacobite
principles. As the Young Pretender had wrote letters soon after his
landing to most of those whom he thought would favour his design,
Lord Pitsligo was not neglected; and though he was now old and
might have had merit enough from the party for former services, yet
he could not withstand this address, but immediately began to stir
and rouse the friends of the Cause. In his letters on that subject he
usually called the young Pretender by the name of the Amiable
young Stranger. It was not however imagined that in such an infirm
state, as he then was, he would have thought of undergoing the
fatigues of a Winter Campaign, especially as he had a very small
estate, and no Vassalages or Following to his Family, and so could
not in that way make any considerable accession to the Party. But
now that the family of Marischall was out of the country, and the Earl
of Kintore, the next representative of that family, was in the interest
of the Government, the gentlemen of Buchan who were friends of
the cause and used formerly to follow Marischall, immediately had
their eyes fixed on Lord Pitsligo to head them. But all these that
appeared in Buchan would not probably have been of consideration
enough to have determined him, if soon after Preston, a set of
gentlemen in Boyne and Enzie[336] set agog by this victory had not
made this an express condition to their going out, that Lord Pitsligo
should go as their head. It was generally believed that this condition
was insisted on by one or two of them who had been rash enough to
be always speaking of their going out if they had an opportunity, and
now that it came to the push, repented of it and thought still of
getting off and some honour, by offering to go only if Lord Pitsligo
went at their head, which they reckoned themselves sure one of his
age never would; and if he did not they might then pretend they had
no confidence in any attempt of this kind for which Lord Pitsligo
would not venture all. But if this was their view they were
disappointed in it, for the rest of these gentlemen consenting to join
them in making the same proposal to Lord Pitsligo, he accepted of it
and so there was no retracting. The gentlemen who from this country
joined his Lordship, or who were in concert with them, were Sir
William Gordon of Park, Gordon of Carnusy, Gordon of Cupbairdy,
Mr. Hay, Younger of Ranas, Forbes of Brucehill, Gordon of
Glastirrum, Abernethy, brother to Mayen, and several other
gentlemen of lesser note. Carnusy and Cupbairdy’s journey was a
great surprise. The latter had no manner of tincture that way, but
being a rambling young lad was determined mostly by comradeship
and something too by the high regard he had for Lord Pitsligo.
Carnusy was esteemed a wise, solid man and some one not at all
wedded to Kingscraft. But as many debts of his never heard of
formerly are appearing, this somewhat unravels the mystery.
Joined by Buchan Gentlemen, and Aberdeen’s etc.
Immediately on Lord Pitsligo’s resolution being known there
appeared also to join him, Sir William Dunbar of Durn, from Boyne,
Mr. Gordon of Hallhead and Mr. Mercer, gentlemen of considerable
note that resided usually in the town of Aberdeen: Mr. Gordon of Mill
of Kinkardine, Mr. Petrie, Sheriff Depute, Mr. Sandilands and several
gentlemen of the lower class from that place; from Buchan, Mr. More
of Lonmay,[337] Factor to the Countess of Errol,[338] Cuming,
younger, of Pitully, Gordon younger, of Logie, Cuming of Kinninmuth,
Ogilvie of Achirris, (all gentlemen of considerable estates), Thomson
elder and younger of Fachfield, Turner younger of Turnerhall, Fraser
brother to Inveralachy and some others of less note; also from the
country about Aberdeen, Mr. Irvin of Drum, two sons of Menzies of
Pitfodels, [Charles] More brother to Stonnywood, etc. But none of
these gentlemen raised any number of men, but all rendevous’d at
Aberdeen on horseback, with their servants, and made a pretty
enough appearance. Mr. Sandilands only raised a Company of Foot
which joined them there, as also did two companies raised by
Stonnywood, the one commanded by himself, and the other by his
brother; the whole not amounting to 200 men. These did indeed
march south with Lord Pitsligo, but were afterwards incorporated in
the Duke of Perth’s second Battalion. Lord Pitsligo and his friends
were but short time in Aberdeen, but while they stayed, conducted
with great discretion.
Rebels favoured by Commons
Hitherto the Rebellion was favoured by almost all the common
people. The promise of freeing them from the Malt Tax had a
surprising influence upon them, this being a tax the Farmers are
especially sensible of, as they themselves pay out the money in the
first instance being all Maltsters, at least for their own use. The
Rebels therefore hitherto behaving civilly, listing only volunteers,
paying freely, taking but some few good horses and arms as they
met with them, and freeing the country people from the eternal dread
they were under of the Malt Gaugers, were looked on by them as the
deliverers of their country.
Why no Opposition made by the Friends of the Government
It may at first seem surprising that no steps were taken in two
such countys by the friends of the Government to stop this
procedure. But let it be considered that after Preston people were
really in a consternation for some time, and nobody knew (as the
intelligence from the south, meeting with so many interruptions, was
very uncertain) how soon the Government might be in a situation to
force the Rebels from Edinburgh so that they might have had leisure
enough to have sent north Detachments and destroyed all that would
attempt to disturb their friends.
Besides it was requisite to have a man of rank and quality at the
head of such a thing (as the Government thought not fit to give
anybody the authority of a Lord Lieutenant) to give a proper weight
to it. But such was the situation of the Nobility of these countys, that
no such thing could have been expected of any of them except the
Earl of Aberdeen, whose undoubted attachment to the Government
as well as his large estate and high rank might indeed have made
him very serviceable had he thought it prudent to have tried to raise
the friends of the Government.[339] The Duke of Gordon, had it not
been prevented by his indisposition, might have been of great use
not only in keeping these Counties quiet, but even in suppressing the
Rebellion altogether. The Earl of Findlater’s[340] sickly constitution
quite disabled him, and though the Earl of Kintore[341] had had a
greater relish for military matters than he has, yet the incumbrances
on his fortune would have been a drawback on him. The Lord
Forbes[342] had by no means an Estate suited to his ability though
he had inclined to appear. The Lord Salton[343] had no weight in the
county, and the Lord Braco[344] had a great estate, yet the newness
of his family would have marred any project of his forming.
Gentry
Had the gentry that did not engage been all hearty, they might
indeed have come together without any of the nobility’s appearing to
head them, but undoubtedly a third of them were dissaffected though
they were wise enough not to embark in so desperate an enterprise;
and of those that were not so, many were selfish, many were
careless who governed, and many were timid and fearful, so that the
few who were resolute had not sufficient strength nor influence to
make a stand. The most remarkable of these in Buchan and
Fortmartine[345] were Lord Strichen, Mr. Maitland of Pitrichy, Mr.
Forbes of Shevis, Mr. Garden of Troup and Mr. Buchan of
Achmacoy. On Don side, Mr. Middleton of Seaton, Mr. Patan,
Grandam, Sir Arthur Forbes, Mr. Burnet of Kemnay, Sir Archibald
Grant and Mr. Leith of Glenkindy. In Garrioch, Mr. Horn of Westhall,
Mr. Leith of Freefield, Sir Alexander Reed of Barra and Mr. Forbes of
Blackfoord. On Deeside, the family of Leys[346] with Mr. Duff of
Premnay. (N.B. a great part of Deeside is in the shire of Mearns.) As
to the towns, Banff and the Seaport towns betwixt it and Aberdeen
were mostly all dissaffected. Full two-thirds of the two towns of
Aberdeen were very well-affected to the Government. All the
Magistrates, or rather those who had been such, before Hamilton
came to town, and all the old Provosts and Bailies (which makes a
considerable number of the principal merchants), and both the
colleges behaved in an exemplary, steady manner. The Clergy of the
Church of Scotland were to a man firm in the interest of the
Government in these counties and indeed everywhere else, and
neither force nor flattery could alter them. The Rebels at the
beginning were at great pains to coax them, and to see if possible to
make the face of a party among them, and would have been
excessively fond of the least compliance, had it been only the not
praying for the King by name, however minutely he should have
been described otherways, well-knowing that if any would go into a
different way from their brethren in any thing however trifling at first,
that difference might be blown up to make a more considerable
opposition. They had particularly hopes of the young Clergy, as they
had used to keep company with them more freely in times of peace,
and not carry with so much reserve as their elder brethren, and so
they thought they should have much influence with them. But they
were excessively baulked when they saw them maintain with vigour
and zeal those principles of liberty which formerly they thought they
spoke of only for amusement, when they saw them at such
extraordinary pains to raise worthy sentiments in the people, and
sparing neither purse nor persons in the service of the Government
as far as they had opportunity; and by how much they expected
more friendship from them than from the old folks, so much the more
were they incensed against them than against the others from whom
they expected nothing.
Synod meets
The Synod met as usual in October in Old Meldrum, and though
in the 1715 they would venture to do nothing, but immediately
adjourned, yet now amidst no less danger they acted with much
more vigour. They ordered a very dutiful and warm address to his
Majesty which was afterwards very highly resented by the Jacobites,
not only as it showed the loyalty of the Clergy, but confuted the lies
published by the Rebels in their Edinburgh Courant, that the whole
gentlemen in the county except four had engaged in the Rebellion,
whereas the Clergy thought themselves obliged not only to vindicate
the county in general, but particularly to do justice to the gentlemen
of the Church of Scotland, by asserting that few or none of them had
engaged in this wicked Rebellion. And indeed some gentlemen then
in London owned themselves very happy in this Address, that came
very seasonably, and had a very good effect, not only in taking off
the bad impressions the friends of the Government had of these
counties, but also in discouraging the Jacobites by undeceiving them
of the vain expectations they had from there. The Synod also had a
public diet for Prayer to Almighty God to put a speedy stop to the
Rebellion, which had a good effect not only on such of the laiety as
were near enough to be present at it, but also tended to confirm and
spirit up several that only heard of it. They also resolved, that
whereas some ministers in their public prayers used formerly to think
his Majesty sufficiently distinguished from the Pretender by calling
him our Protestant Sovereign or some such other appellation, but as
the omitting to name him expressly even though thus characterised
was looked on as a compliance by the Rebels, who deluded many of
the people with a story of their pretended Prince being a Protestant,
that therefore all in time coming should pray for him by name, as
they would be answerable. They also appointed that Presbyteries
should meet often, and members be sent as correspondents betwixt
neighbouring Presbyteries that they might advise with one another at
this critical time and act with the greatest harmony. All this was
punctually executed.
Nonjurant Clergy
There were but two Clergy of the Church of England in all these
Counties who were qualified to the Government, both at Aberdeen,
but here was a very considerable number of that persuasion who
were Nonjurants, which is to be sure the same thing with avowed
Jacobites, and though most of them had the address to keep
themselves free from open acts of Rebellion yet they were
excessively instrumental by every sly act to poison the people and
debauch them to rebellion, and accordingly all their hearers, almost
without exception, were rank Jacobites, and the being so, was by
them esteemed so very essential to salvation, that even before the
Rebellion they have been known to refuse to admit some of their
hearers to the Communion not only if by going to a Presbyterian
Church, but even if by going to a qualified meeting of the Church of
England they had heard King George prayed for, unless they
solemnly professed their repentance for this crime. After the
Rebellion broke out, several of them turned so insolent as to pray for
the Pretender by name. All of this persuasion as they all along had a
most unaccountable enmity against the Church of Scotland, so they
failed not to show it with a deal of rancour during the Rebellion, to all
of that persuasion.
Papists
It was but natural to expect that the Papists should favour the
Rebellion to their utmost, but they are but inconsiderable in these
Counties. Their meetings were quite barefaced, the Pretender
openly prayed for, and a very great and good understanding there
was betwixt the Nonjurants and them, so that Seaton, a priest, and
Law, a Nonjurant minister,[347] were very commonly joined together
among Lord Lewis Gordon’s council, who was made Governor of
these counties by the Pretender. The Papists however generally had
the cunning to be rather more tolerable in conversation with the
friends of the Government than the Nonjurants were.
Lord Lewis Gordon joins the Rebels
Before the Rebels marched from Edinburgh to England they very
wisely thought of means of retaining these counties under their
subjection, while they should be marching south and of having
reinforcements from thence ready for them against any emergence.
For this purpose they wheedled over to their party Lord Lewis
Gordon,[348] a younger brother to his Grace the Duke of Gordon,
imagining that the very name of one so nearly connected to the Duke
would have a great influence on the tenants and dependants of that
family, and they well knew that His Grace’s indisposition at that time
would prevent any effectual measures being taken to stop this
procedure. Lord Lewis was a Lieutenant in the Fleet, and had
unhappily come down at that time to visit his Mother, the Duchess
Dowager, who stayed near Edinburgh.[349] There he met so many
old friends and acquaintances engaged in the Rebellion, who laid all
oars in the water to gain him; and this indeed was no hard matter to
a forward young lad like him, especially as he was to have a Feather
in his cap, and to be made Lord Lieutenant of Aberdeenshire and
Governor of the Towns of Aberdeen and Banff, with power of
disposing of all places in them. Along with him is set down More of
Lonmay, More of Stonnywood, Gordon of Avachy and Sheriff Petrie
to assist him in his Government and Levys. There were also a
number of Towns Burgesses named as a Council with them for the
Town of Aberdeen and to manage under him in his absence but they
all refused to accept; on which Mr. Moir of Lonmay was made
Deputy Governor of Aberdeen, much indeed against his own
inclination. He was a sensible man, but turned out very positive and
arbitrary in his Government, which he had frequent opportunities of
showing as Lord Lewis did not reside much at Aberdeen, and when
he did, was always much advised by Lonmay. Mr. Bairde of
Achmeden[350] was at the same time made Depute Governor of
Banff. This gentleman had shown his affection to the cause so far as
to wait for the Young Pretender at Edinburgh with his white cockade,
but it seems was not so far militarily disposed as to think of marching
with them into England, but having a considerable estate in
Banffshire, they thought he might be of service to them in this
sphere; but though he at first accepted of this commission, yet he
seldom if ever acted in consequence of it, and very rarely made any
public appearance.
Men Raised by Force
The Lord Lieutenant began with his recruiting about Strathboggy,
but as the waifest kind of people had mostly gone off in the first
Levys, this was not so successful as he expected. Nay, on his first
coming there, his summonses to his brother’s tenants to rise were so
slighted, and volunteers so backward, that he was obliged to write to
Blelack[351] and some of the gentlemen of Deeside who had a
number of men with them, begging of them for God’s sake to send
him a command of their men that he might not be affronted. How
soon he got these, then he went to work quartering on the tenants
about Strathboggy till they either rose or furnished men according to
the proportions he had settled. But this was tedious, as he had but a
small party to quarter with, and therefore he soon took a more
expeditious way, threatening to burn the houses and farmyards of
such as stood out. This soon had the desired effect, for the burning a
single house or farm stack in a Parish terrified the whole, so that
they would quickly send in their proportion, and by this means, with
the few that joined as volunteers, he raised near 300 men called the
Strathboggy Battalion in the country thereabouts. The same method
of military execution (a discipline till then unknown in these counties)
was used in most of the high parts of the shire for forcing out men,
especially on Deeside, where a great many were raised in this
manner. Stonnywood however found people enough about the town
of Aberdeen and places adjacent without force, to form another
corps for Lord Lewis called the Aberdeen Battallion consisting of
about 200 men, which with the Strathboggy Batallion formed what
was properly Lord Lewis’ own Regiment; Avachy being Lieutenant of
the latter; Stonnywood of the former.
Auchengaul raises a Company
About the same time Crichton of Auchengaul, a Popish
gentleman of a very small estate, but representative of the Viscount
Frendraught, raised a company and joined Lord Lewis. There were
also several little people in Banffshire and Buchan, etc., who raised a
few men each, and joined the Lord Lieutenant and all got
commissions of one kind or other, which was by no means hard to
be obtained. And thus the whole of this second Levy in the Counties
of Aberdeen and Banff, under Lord Lewis would have amounted to
near 800 men.
Comparison with 1715
As the above is a view of the whole course of the Rebels from
these Counties, it may not be amiss to compare it with what it was in
the 1715, from which it will be evident that for all the noise they
made about their strength in these parts it was nothing now in
comparison with what it was then.
In the 1715 they were supported by most of the Nobility. The
Duke of Gordon (then Marquis of Huntly), the Earls of Mar,
Marischall, Panmure, and Kintore, and the Lords Fraser and Pitsligo,
who had all great estates, connections and dependencies in these
Counties, raised their whole force and exerted themselves to the
utmost in favour of the Rebellion. Whereas now Lord Pitsligo was the
only nobleman that joined them unless Lord Lewis be reckoned. As
to the landed gentry the difference is full as considerable. Though
the most be from Banffshire and Buchan, yet even there they are not
one fourth of what they were in the 1715. Not one gentleman from
Fortmartine unless Mr. Smith of Menie be to be reckoned, who
indeed appeared with them at Edinburgh, but left them or they
entered England. Not one gentleman that resided in Garrioch,[352]
though in the 1715 most of them were concerned. Only five on
Deeside from the head to the foot. And though there were several
gentlemen of small estates on Deeside, yet all of them put together
were not equal to the Laird of Invercauld who engaged in the former
Rebellion. The Commons must always bear Proportion to the
interests of the Gentry engaged, and though indeed this rule failed in
so far at this time as that considerable numbers were raised from the
estates of the Duke of Gordon, Earl of Aboyne, and Laird of
Invercauld, where the Rebels had properly no interest, yet as almost
none of the gentlemen that went with Lord Pitsligo raised so much as
the men on their own estates, this will in good measure balance the
other. There were several merchants of note appeared from the
towns in the 1715, but now none but a few smugglers, and a very
few tradesmen.
As the Rebels had thus a considerable number of men in these
Counties, they next fell to work to raise money for their maintenance.
And first of all they resolved to levy the Cess that was due for the
current year, and all arrears, and accordingly the Lord Lieutenant
named a collector, and without further intimation ordered partys to
quarter for it. As it was soon moving from one house to another in
the towns and country about them, as the quartering money was
very exorbitant, their partys numerous and costly to maintain, and
the Cess being levied only according to the valued rent, and not
being anything considerable in comparison of the real rent and few
being willing to bear the stress any time for a small sum, it was
quickly levied in the towns of Aberdeen and from the adjacent
estates. But in the country it necessarily took up longer time so that
they never got parties sent to some estates that were most out of the
way, and some gentlemen, particularly Mr. Burnet, Kemnay, and Mr.
Horn, Westhall, bore the stress with great firmness and wearied
them out of it at this time, as indeed Mr. Horn at length did
altogether.
The French Land
 In the month of December there arrived six transports at
Peterhead, Aberdeen, Stonehaven, and Montrose with Lord John
Drummond’s Regiment on board and the Piquets from the Irish
Brigade in the French Service; all under the command of Lord John
Drummond.[353] This greatly elevated the Rebels, was magnified
hugely to their friends in other places, and looked upon by them all
as the certain prelude of a great invasion from France. The two Lord
Drummonds[354] and the Lord Lieutenant had an interview at
Aberdeen, the great result of which, seemed to be the forging a letter
from Lord Martial commanding his friends to join Lord John
Drummond (vid. printed Copy) and a Proclamation in which his
Lordship, also to show him how well he was acquainted to the
French Government, threatens to punish those who did not join him
according to their intentions. The letter from Lord Martial was soon
suspected to be forged, from its being altered while a-printing, and
from the style of it, it being very unlike Lord Martial to speak of
Commanding his Friends, but after Culloden it was put out of doubt
by one Mr. Halyburton, who had been sent from France by Lord
Martial, how soon he knew of it, to disclaim the thing entirely, to let
Lord John know how much he took it amiss, and to warn his friends
not to be seduced by it.[355] The Rebels were on the other Speyside
before this gentleman reached them, and how soon he informed
Lord John of his errand, he was either closely confined or then
discharged on the severest penalty from speaking of it, so that it was
but little known, till the Flight, when he acquainted several gentlemen
of it, who after that made it no secret. The French that landed at
Peterhead, Aberdeen, and Stonehaven, stayed not above a week or
so to refresh themselves, but marched south to the Camp at Perth.
Levy Money
The Cess went but a short way to answer their demands, next
therefore they resolved to demand what was called Levy Money, or
Militia money; accordingly Stonnywood by order of the Lord
Lieutenant wrote Circular letters to the several gentlemen or their
factors, demanding an able bodied man sufficiently accoutred in the
Highland Dress[356] for each £100 Scots of valued rent, or then £5
Sterling to raise one. The man was but a pretext, it was the money
they wanted. This indeed would have amounted to a very
considerable sum; no less than about £12,000 Sterling for the
County of Aberdeen alone, which will be 5s. Ster. in the pound off
the real rack’d rent, which exorbitant demand would at any time have
been very hard upon Lairds and Tenants but after two bad crops and
so many other losses, was indeed more than they could bear.
However these reasons availed nothing to the Lord Lieutenant, or his
Depute (who was by no means ignorant of the state of the counties)
but to work they went, how soon they had got in most of the Cess, to
quarter for it. This began at length to open the eyes of many of the
people, who had been formerly cheated by promises of freedom
from taxes, especially the Malt Tax, but now they saw how delusive
these were, and this not a little confirmed the few who had all along
wished well to the Government. Even the selfish among the gentry
who professed not to care who reigned, were not now quite so
indifferent, and even many secret Jacobites were disgusted.
Lord Loudon Invited
The friends of the Government seeing no end of this oppression,
while the Rebels were their masters, sent several messages to the
President and Lord Loudon[357] to send some men to their relief.
They were especially instant from the town of Aberdeen, this being
the seat of their Government, and consequently most exposed to
their tyranny, which was so great that the usual freedom of
conversation was entirely banished, at least none could promise how
long they could call anything their own, and even already they were
speaking of imposing a Loan, how soon the Militia money was
levied. But their keenness to obtain relief and to persuade Lord
Loudon to undertake it, probably made them represent the strength
of the Rebels as more insignificant than it really was, which no doubt
has been one reason why the party sent was not more numerous.
Burning Order
The Levy money coming in but slowly, for all the stress of
quartering, which stress alone induced some to pay it, but some few
that were such hearty friends as to need only the pretence of force,
the Lord Lieutenant grew quite impatient and issued what was called
the Fire Ordinance (vid. Gent. Mag. for January 1746, p. 29th).[358]
Party’s were sent to several Districts of the country, with orders to
quarter on the gentlemen’s houses (not on the tenants’ as usual) and
if against such a time the money was not payed, to begin with
burning the gentleman’s house and Planting, then the tenants’
houses and cornyards and so on through the district. But
notwithstanding of these dreadful threatenings, none but some very
timourous people paid, till they should at least see what would be the
consequences of the Northern aid which now began to be spoke of
and pretty confidently expected.
Old Aberdeen Distressed
As the old town of Aberdeen had in proportion to such a place
discovered a more than ordinary zeal for the Government so that the
Rebel Governors distinguished it accordingly by a demand of £215
Ster. of Levy money, a very great sum for so small a village, and by
beginning with them these new methods of raising it. They
impudently proposed it among the Whigs without ever regarding
whether or not they had any property in Lands or houses and
particularly the Masters of the Kings College had their small stipends
very severely cessed. But when they could not even thus get their
full demand answered, Lonmay ordered about £40 Ster. of it to be
taken from the Poor’s Box and from some small funds that belonged
to an hospital for poor widows and some other such charitable funds.
Large parties were quartered through the town in the gentlemen’s
houses for several days, but even this severe stress not proving
effectual, intimation was made by Tuke of Drum, that if the money
was not paid against a certain hour the Town was to be burnt. This
indeed alarmed them and the gentlemen were forced to seem in so
far to comply as to beg only delays till the money should be got, and
this they had the art to obtain from time to time for two or three days,
till at length they had pretty certain information that McLeod and
Culcairn’s men were come the length of Banff and Strathboggy, on
which most of the gentlemen of note in the place, slipped out of town
or concealed themselves, without paying a farthing, and leaving the
Rebels to do with the town what they pleased. But as they too were
sensible by this time of the enemy’s approach they would not
venture on such a severity till they should see the event.
McLeod Marches
As for McLeod’s March (vid. Gents. Mag., Jan. 1746, p. 23). It
was Gordon of Avachy and Gordon of Aberlour that opposed them at
the passage of the Spey, but they quickly retreated. They had the
Strathboggy Batallion under their command and had been quartering
for Cess and Levy money about Strathboggy and Banff. They
marched to Aberdeen the day appointed for the Public Fast by his
Majesty, December 17th, which however was very punctually
observed even where they passed and in general was so both by
Clergy and people both in town and country, though the Clergy
indeed did meet with some insults in a few places. Immediately on
McLeod’s passing the Spey, the Rebels called in all their Quartering
parties, and the Deeside men to the town of Aberdeen and sent
expresses to their friends in Angus and Mearns to send them
assistance.
The McLeods joined the two companies under Culkairn,[359] at
Inverury, upon Saturday, December 20th, the whole body being 700
men complete. 400 of those under McLeod were quartered in the
town of Inverury, the rest of that name and Culkairn’s two companies
were cantonned in farmers’ houses along the Ury to the north west
of the town, many of them more than a mile and a half’s distance
though there was no worldly necessity for this, as the town of
Inverury contained two regiments of the Duke’s army for some
weeks without a man of them going a stone cast from it. Against
night the Rebel Reinforcements were come to Aberdeen consisting
of about 150 of the French Picquets who had remained at Montrose
and more than 200 Angus and Mearns Militia, so that there would
have been in whole about 1200 men at Aberdeen. All the Saturday
the Rebels were exceeding careful to prevent any intelligence
coming to the McLeods, securing as far as possible all the Avenues
coming from the town, and sending out scouts to scour between
Kintore and Inverury to the very water-side, these seized Mr. Bartlet
an Aberdeen writer who had come along with McLeod and had
ventured to Kintore (2 miles from Inverury), where also Mr. Dingwall,
an Aberdeen merchant and some others coming with intelligence
from Aberdeen were snapt up and carried in prisoners. The McLeods
had immediate notice of this, but Culcairn (by whom McLeod was
directed as he himself did not pretend to understand military matters)
could not be prevailed on to allow any men to come over and drive
them off, no doubt fearing as they were strangers in the country lest
they should be surprised. But as by this means at length all
intelligence stopt, this proved their ruin in the end. Whereas by
keeping some advance guards, or at least sending out patroles now
and then, for a mile or two, they might indeed possibly have lost a
man or two in Rencountres with the enemy’s parties, and possibly
the reverse might have happened, but still they’d have secured the
main chance and prevented the whole being surprised. However by
this conduct though frequently things of considerable importance
were known at Kintore, it was impossible to send the intelligence the
remaining two miles. Nevertheless Sir Archibald Grant[360] who had
come over the hill from the south, without touching at Aberdeen, and
was certainly informed on his way that a reinforcement of French
would that night be in town, fell on a way late that night to let McLeod
know so much, and this intelligence probably prevented their
marching to attack the Rebels the next morning, till they should know
their situation more exactly. There was no body more alert or
serviceable in getting exact intelligence to the Rebels than
Stonnywood, as he knew the country and the people exactly, and as
his estate lay betwixt Aberdeen and Inverury, he had all his tenants
employed on the same service, so that on Saturday night they had
perfect intelligence of everything that concerned the McLeods.
Volunteers
There were some Aberdeen gentlemen who had been either
driven from town by the tyranny of the Rebels, or they had been sent
on messages to the President, that came all along from Inverness as
Volunteers in this expedition: among these were Mr. Forbes of Echt,
Mr. Logie a merchant, and Mr. Thomson, General Superviser of
Excise, which last gentleman especially was exceeding serviceable
both on this, and several other occasions to the Government. The
number of volunteers was increased at Inverury by Mr. Maitland,
Pitrichy, Mr. Forbes of Shieves, Forbes of Echt, Mr. Chalmers, the
now Principal of the King’s College, Mr. Gordon, Professor of
Humanity in the College, some merchants and tradesmen, several
students of Divinity and Philosophy and Prentices from both towns of
Aberdeen, and many more would have come if it had not been the
difficulty of getting out of town. But as McLeod had no spare arms,
and the volunteers could get nothing but pistols they proved of no
service. Mr. Horn, of Westhall, by promises of great rewards and
encouragement, had got his tenants to engage to follow him and join
the McLeods, and as he foresaw he could not get fire-arms, had
caused make a number of spears with iron heads, for them. But
when it came to the push, they all drew back, their hearts failed them
and they refused to rise. On which, on Monday he was sending an
Express to McLeod for a party to force them out, but his express met
them retreating.
A Detachment sent out
On Sunday McLeod was prevailed on to send a large detachment
of his own company over the water for three miles, which had a very
happy effect, driving off all the enemy’s Scouts and facilitating their
intelligence, so that they met with no less than three persons from
town that had come out in disguises and by byeways who brought
letters giving an exact account of the enemy’s numbers and
situation, which people otherways would all have been intercepted
by their Scouts. This so entirely convinced the Lieutenant that
commanded the detachment, of the necessity either of constant
patroles, or then of an advance Guard at Kintore, that he had
everything settled for one or other, never doubting but his
representation would prevail, but there was no convincing Culkairn,
so that next day there came not a man over the water at all.
The Enemy Alarmed
The Enemy’s Scouts on being thus driven off, having seen the
party but imperfectly, alarmed their friends in town with an account
that the whole of the McLeods were marching to attack them, on
which they drew together, but were soon undeceived. The same
night after it was dark they convened their men and marched three
miles out of town, as if to surprise the enemy, but whether it was only
a feint to see if their men would stand by them, or if it was owing to
any wrong notion that the McLeods were apprised of them, they
returned to town again without doing anything.
Rebels’ Artifice
This day too, they had tried a strategem to raise a mutiny among
the McLeods by bribing a tenant’s son of McLeod’s (who had been
staying with a Nonjurant Minister, teaching his children Latin and so
had imbibed all the Jacobite notions) to go to Inverury and see to
persuade the men that they were engaged in an unjust cause, that
their enemies were very numerous and powerful, and that Lord
Loudon had purposely sent them up to be cut off in a strange
country. As this fellow had their language, was their namesake and
countryman, they readily listened to him and it was taking among
them like lightening, till the fellow was found out and apprehended,
but the impression still stuck to them, till McLeod drew them all out,
and very particularly showed them the roguery.
The Rebels march
On Monday the 23rd, about 9 of clock in the morning, the Rebels
marched from Aberdeen, in order to surprise the McLeods in two
columns. The main body being about 900 was commanded by Lord
Lewis (though one Major Cuthbert,[361] a French Officer, did all the
business), crossed the Bridge of Don, and took a round about and
indirect road on the North side of the Don. The other column
consisting of their Strathboggy Battallion, and commanded by Major
Gordon, a French Officer, and Avachy, took the high road on the
south side of the river. As they had all along guarded the avenues
from the town very carefully, they did it now so effectually that there
was no possibility of sending any intelligence of their march, till they
were actually gone. When they were marching they all along kept
advance parties before their main bodies came in sight, so that when
they were observed, these parties prevented any persons getting
past with information. As the body that marched the high road had by
far the nearest way, they halted and concealed themselves in the
Church and church-yard of Kinellar about three miles from Inverury,
till the corps on the other side were suitably advanced, and
meantime had their advanced party concealed in some houses in a
low part of the road near Kintore.
This party seized the minister of Kintore, who had got some
confused notice of their march, and going out for more certain
intelligence, and observing nothing on the road, had come that
length where he was made prisoner, as also at the very same time
were no less than three people with intelligence of the Rebels’ march
from the town, who had got out when their Guards were taken off,
and escaped the main body by byeways, till being so near Inverury
they had (to shorten the way) come in there to the high road, never
doubting but they’d have met with some of the McLeods advanced
parties to protect them, as those had done that came out the former
day. The column that marched on the north side of Don had Scouts
concealed among Planting of the Earl of Kintore’s on a rising ground
that overlooked Inverury, and though some while before the enemy
came up they were observed going backwards and forwards from
the Park, and pointed out to McLeod and Culkairn as looking very
suspicious, yet by some fatality they neglected to send up and see
what they were doing. Immediately as they marched, the minister of
Rayne, who happened to be in town, rode out by the Deeside Road,
the only one left unguarded, to see if it was possible this way to get
before them; but this was so greatly about, and the road when he
came to cross the country so excessively bad that the firing was
begun or he reached Kintore. So that the first intelligence they got of
them was the Main Body being observed by their sentry, marching
down by the Earl of Kintore’s parks within a quarter of a mile of
Inverury.
McLeods draw out
McLeod, Culkairn, and all the officers with the few men they had
in town got together very resolutely, and all of them discovered a
great deal of courage on this occasion, nay, to think at all of standing
against such superior numbers bespoke no little bravery. And indeed
had they thought of sending down a party to line the Church yard of
Inverury, and had others rightly posted on a little hull, called the
Bass, both which were within a pistol shot of the Boat and Ford of
Ury where the Main body behoved to pass, and also on the Ford of
Don where Avachy, etc., passed, they certainly had done great
execution among them in their passages, and if they had not
stopped them altogether, would at least have retarded them till the
men that were canton’d at a distance had got up to their assistance,
for the Rebels had no cannon, but two old rusty ones they had taken
from ships, which got not up till long after the skirmish was over, and
though they had, would not probably have done great execution. But
the confusion and surprise of the McLeods at the unexpected
coming of the enemy made them neglect all these advantages, and
stand on the Rigs on the east side at the south end of the town, at
almost an equal distance from the Foords of Don and Ury, but at so
great a distance as to be able to do execution at neither; and their
standing here too was probably not a little owing to their then
discovering the other body of the enemy coming upon the other side
of Don, which made them irresolute how to dispose of themselves till
so many of the Rebels crossed the Ury as put it out of their power to
stop their passage there. It was also a vast loss to these
Highlanders, who were none of them disciplined, that they had only
firelocks and bayonets, and wanted their darling weapon, the
Broadsword, which is always their chief confidence.
Rebels pass the Foords
The van of the Rebels’ main body consisted of the French and
some picked men and was lead only by Major Cuthbert, these with
all the gentlemen, the volunteers, and some of the common men
crossed the Ury, very alertly, and as they passed, drew up behind the
Bass, and the Churchyard. But many of their common men ran off
and skulked by dike-sides till the action was over and could neither
be brought out by threats nor entreaties till then. Major Gordon and
Avachy with about 50 or 60 of their men crossed the Don very
briskly, and behaved well, but the rest of the Corps took shelter
among the Broom, till they saw the event.
The action began near an hour after sunset with a clear
moonshine, by some passing shots from some ten or twelve of the
McLeods who advanced so far, some to the one Foord and some to
the other, and fired on the enemy as they were passing and killed
two or three men in the water, and immediately retired. The Body
that crossed Ury moved up first to attack, but were received with two
or three fires from the McLeods, which they returned indeed two for
one, but both were at too great a distance to do great execution. But
as the party from Don was by this time coming to attack them in
flanks, and as the French were advancing with a close regular fire
and like to bear very hard on them, the McLeods found themselves
unable to stand this shock, and accordingly gave way; yet not so but
that a party of them loaded their pieces retiring, and finding some of
their men, especially the wounded, like to fall in the enemy’s hands,
they wheeled about before they were half way up the town, and
made another fire, but immediately ran off. On this the French
advanced through the town with an incessant street fire, and the rest
divided themselves and went firing up each side of it, being too by
this time joined by most of their skulking companions. After this, as
some of the McLeods were running off on the stubble ground on the
North end of the town, some person gave a cry that McLeod was
taken, on which they turned about again and made another fire but
immediately marched off. The Rebels meanwhile being at a
considerable distance and not observing them so exactly going off,
but seeing a ridge with a few furrows in it, amidst a great deal of
unploughed stubble ground, and taking it by the moonlight for a row
of men, they fired once or twice into it very successfully. And thus in
whole the firing continued for more than twenty minutes. The
companies of McLeods and Monroes that were cantonn’d out of the
town, had unluckily no Officers with them; these happened to be with
McLeod in Inverury, and went out to engage along with the men that
were there (which by the bye as there were thirty of them on guard,
and many straggling through the country seeking provisions did not
much exceed three hundred), these therefore having no body to
draw them together, ran up different ways on hearing the firing till
they met some of their friends flying, or were informed of the event,
and then they ran off. But had their officers been with them to bring
them together, and lead them up in a body to meet their friends at
the north end of the town and support them, they very possibly might
have turned the scale in their favours.
Loss on both sides